some meandering thoughts

Lately I've felt like I just have so many things to say on this thing. Maybe after a bit it'll all die down. Maybe not. Anyway, here's some more.

I didn't realize that I hadn't concluded my post from a few days ago. Yes, I've joined the Y. Yes, it's the same Y as Erin is in, as we discovered today. Yes, I'm developing mighty muscles and will soon be able to join the beautiful people club. And, yes, I am using the butt work-out machine. Why? you ask. Simple. I am the inheritor of the infamous plumber butt disease. My hope is that if I develop butt muscles, maybe my pants will stay up better.

Any of you who know how these things work may feel free to chime in on this.

I don't like it when people pick Duke and Uconn in the championship game. It's totally boring. C'mon people! Be adventure-some!

I was crazy sick yesterday. I came home, went to sleep at 6, woke up at 9, went to sleep at 9:30, woke up at 3:30, went to sleep again, woke up at 6am. That's right. 12 hours of sleep. In a sense. It was awesome. Except for the part where I had no idea what was going on. But I was feeling pretty good at six.

Speaking of 6am and the Y, I think I might start going there at 6am to do the morning swimming thing. Probably not, at least not until I figure out where my swimming trunks are, but I will definitely consider it.

In yet other (less explicit) news, I think I may have been coming off as weird and needy lately, so I think I'm gonna back of for a while. I've been told it's important to do that. If you have any idea what this paragraph is about, I give you props.

Um. And I think that's it. Since I last talked about it, I haven't got much done on my story. Nevertheless, I have high hopes. Also, I think when I'm done, I gonna go back through and simplify as many sentences as possible. Sometimes I'm writing to a high school reading level, when I should only be writing for 6-8th graders.

March Madness

As a courtesy to your friendly neighborhood Joel, I've decided to include his comment on a main post. I'm participating, which means you should too.

Joel Says:
Hey, I started a bracket group on ESPN.com.

Here's the link: http://games.espn.go.com/tcmen/group?groupID=107033&password=bucknell

the group name is: Joel's group
the password is: bucknell

Everyone go and fill out a bracket and get your ass kicked by me. You have to sign up with ESPN first, but that's easy and quick and just like the million other things you have to register for. I'm trying to get as many people as I know to enter, so invite anyone you want as long as they're not pieces of crap.

I'll drop this on some other blogs too much to get the word out.

Back to Nathan:
Alright, so join up. It should be a good time. Of course, I picked A TOTALLY homer bracket, but I'm not an impassive sports writer, so it's ok.

Thinner!

In the post below I talk about basketball and weight loss. Read that. It's good. This post is just for my own vanity.

Here I am on Jan 3, 2006















Now let's look at me today, 2 and 1/2 months later on March 12, 2006














Note, if you will, the position of the end of my belly in relation to the end of the arm rest. That's right. I truly am a sexy beast.

Anyone who wants to touch me can form a line; I am open to all.

Five Things: Basketball and Weight Loss

Couple things.

First, sometimes I have no idea who leaves me comments on this blog, but I appreciate the feedback. Keep that up. Concerning Temple, I agree. If they don't give me WAY more scholarship action, I think I'm gonna nix'em.

Second, I would like to take this time to thank Texas for proving me and my statistical analysis correct. I should also take this time to acknowledge KU, who is remarkably good at learning from losses this year.

Third, I was rooting for Bradley all the way up until 5:30 today. Now I've stopped rooting for Bradley.

Fourth, look for the A&M over Syracuse 5 vs 12 upset on thursday. And, if that doesn't happen, Utah State over Washington. Look for zero protest-related shooting deaths at Kent State this week, as well. I can virtually guarantee zero protest-related shooting deaths.

At least, this week.

Fifth... I've got nothing for fifth. I didn't do very well on my diet this week and went up 2 lbs. I feel sad. Remember, as I said before, if you wanna get babes without trying, don't become thin, already BE thin. So now I'm gonna start working hard again.

Five Things

Hmm. It's been a long day. There are many things I could talk about, but very few things worth talking about. This puts me in an odd predicament. Do I want to discuss at length in a mediocre post, or do I want to find those tiny nuggets of thought from within the slough?

Let's try for the second.

1. If I haven't mentioned it already, I've been accepted by Temple and KU so far.
Cost:
KU: 12 - 18k per year
Temple 44k per year

Ultimate average starting income:
KU: 45-55k per year
Temple 65-85k per year

Difficult decision.

You see the issue? Maybe william and mary will come along and fix this whole problem for me. Or maybe another complication will arise that will make me REALLY happy, but will change everything... Unlikely.

2. Women are more beautiful when they are intelligent. Also, when they don't smoke.

3. I believe I'm down to my last 15 to 20 pages of story, plus or minus an epilogue that I haven't decided on. I'm pretty pumped.

4. Look for flowers in a week in a half to continue my 3 year scheme that I've devised that is guaranteed to leave me in tears, because I over-think things and am not confident do everything the way I probably should. A Tale of Two Cities will be nothing compared to this. There are those of you who might know what I'm talking about.

5. I'm tired. G'night.

YMCA

So I'm doing a fairly nice job on the dieting/ weight loss side of my life, but now I believe it is to time to take care of the other side of getting healthy: being active and developing big, manly muscles.

To that effect, I think I'm gonna join the YMCA today. It seems like a nice day for joining a gym. Hopefully I'll find some racquetball friends. My official plan is to get off work every day and head over to the Y, where I'll do a bit of exercise, then head home.

The plan feels fool-proof. Ordinarily there might be days where I could feel too lazy to go to the gym, but if I'm already in town, that shouldn't be an issue.

Anyway, wish me luck. Also, keep clicking above. You guys are doing a great job. I've NEARLY earned 1 hours worth of minimum wage! And it only took 2 months!

Bored

I am so bored! It's thursday night, technically my Friday, and I've done nothing fun and exciting all day long.

And yet, I'm feeling remarkably lazy.

Go figure.

Syracuse?

Being an ardant KU fan of the past 7 or so years, I never thought I'd say this, but way to go Syracuse. Awesome game! Also (and this really stings) props to MacNamara.

no story?

Hey everyone. It's wednesday, but that doesn't mean anything any more. Remember, if you still want to read chapters of my story, just email me and I'll get them to you. If not, I hope you had a fun ride up to this point.

Oh, and I want to thank the 3 people that clicked my ad link in the past two days. Thanks to your generous contributions, I've earned another 40 cents!

Examining a bush

The following story is told in the 3rd person limited-omniscent, because it seems most likely to be funniest that way. Also, most of it is made up, but some parts are vaguely true.... Oh, and if you don't think it's funny, you can go suck it. It turns out I'm not that good at telling jokes in the third person. Now piss off. Or, uh, maybe just read this story.


Pete didn't know exactly what caused it, but he knew that it was real. Perhaps it was the chill night air of the Plaza. Maybe it had been that 6th drink. Or, he supposed, it could have been the creepy chick with the vibrator who kept trying to dance with him.

Regardless, he had to piss like a race horse. It was perhaps 20 minutes to Joel's house, but 20 minutes can seem like an eternity when you think you might explode from every direction at once. Plus, that would show those arrogant Plaza bastards! Let's see how much pride they have in their Gap with newly tinted yellow windows.

Joel didn't think it was a good idea, Lacey wasn't saying anything, and Felix was too far behind to provide any reasoning.

"C'mon, man. This is NOT the place for that kind of thing," Joel said, only slightly slurred.

"No! No, I'm gonna do it! I'll just aim at this bush here." Pete gestured to the potted plant in the middle of the well traveled sidewalk.

"Suit yourself," Joel said, knowing that sometimes arguments stop working, "but isn't that a potted plant?"

Pete did not hear him, so he climbed into the passenger seat of his car, and Lacey climbed into the driver's seat. Ordinarily, Pete would have been very grateful for Lacey, but he had other things on his mind.

After a moment of careful adjustment, Pete relaxed, sighed contentedly, and began to whistle. At that moment, two very different creatures came around the corners of the block.

Felix was at the south corner. As far as he could tell, Pete seemed to be looking at him funny. Felix looked down at his shirt, worried that some drink had been spilled on him again, but he didn't see anything.

Around the north corner came a white SUV. Pete thought it was a taxi. Taxis have those lights on top like that, right? Pete thought to himself.

Yes, said the omniscent narrator. A taxi is one example of a car with lights on the top....

"Pete!" Joel screamed under his breath, interrupting the narrator. "Get in the freaking car!"

Felix, not noticing any of this, was still uncertain why Pete was giving him such a strange grin. "Um. Heya, Pete," he said. Sadly, his call was to go unrewarded.

Felix watched as Pete performed a strange sort of shuffly, jumpy, shoulder-shrugging maneuver behind the bush. Isn't that a potted plant? thought Felix. Then, without saying a word, Pete turned around.

At that moment, Felix noticed the SUV that looked a little like a taxi, but mostly looked like a security guard.

Oh.

Pete began to skip north, the direction away from where the SUV was heading. Felix, deciding that tonight was not the night to get involved in these things, hopped in the back seat of Joel's car.

The SUV pulled a U-ee.

6 seconds later, so did Pete, who started to walk/run faster. 5 seconds after that, the SUV pulled another one. "Like tennis," said Felix, under his breath.

This time, however, Pete decided he was caught. The SUV pulled up next to him as he slowed down. "Oh sh*t," said Joel.

Well, luckily for us all, Pete didn't get a ticket or go to prison. Turns out the SUV was more rent-a-cop than cop, and the man in the SUV just suggested that he get a taxi ASAP. Pete explained that he was just looking at a bush. The "cop" paused, then said, "Wait, isn't that a potted plant?"

Needless to say, when the conversation ended, Pete agreed to get a taxi as soon as possible, then, when Mr. SUV drove away, he hopped in the back seat of Joel's car.

As the four friends drove away, the adventure was replayed many times in word and thought, and everyone felt pretty much like a hero. About 20 minutes later, the four ended up at the drive-thru at McDonalds.

Pete hopped out of the car. "I have to piss again," he said.

"Dammit," thought Joel and Felix, simultaneously. "Where are you gonna go now?" asked Felix.

"Behind that bush," said Pete, who hurried away after indicating the well lighted shrub in the middle of the McDonald's parking lot.

Felix and Lacey shared a glance. Bush? they were thinking. Isn't that a potted plant?

Around the corner, a vehicle that could be confused with a taxi revved its engines.

The End

A return to things to come

Wow. So I've been posting an awful lot lately. I think I'm gonna make a commitment now. At least for a while I'm going to avoid worrying about how relationships work, why I don't get more lovin', and all those other things, and instead go back to what I do best:

Make up facts and demonstrate exactly why I am the coolest cat in a town of frozen tabbies.

To that effect, it is time for a new HTGBWET:

#342: Become an accomplished man of the sea, bleach your hair blondish, and establish a sort of jamaican accent. Learn to conga and tango, and maybe swing. Obtain a limitless bank account with which you are able to eat shellfish at least once a day.

Then give it up all to work with sick children in Bahraine.

When you come home, after you've taken a shower, you are guaranteed to be at least a mild babe magnet.

Also, learning a few romance languages couldn't hurt. And maybe a north african one, because that would be neat.

Um... in addition to all that, I once again ask that everyone click the google ad above. Last week was pretty good. I earned almost 21 cents! But so-far this week it's all still a goose egg.

a challenge, some links, and sports

To begin, I suggest going down one post, if you don't care about college basketball. Down one post is a nice blurb on my theories about starting relationships and social status.

Also, if you can correctly guess who the girl in those pictures I posted is, I'll give you a half-penny's worth of applause. And that's something you can take to the bank!

Now, if you do care about basketball, I've decided to back up my ascertation that Texas is better at home than on the road, because it is, by God, true, no matter if I am or am not a KU fan. The only thing that my status changes is the fact that I care about it.

So let's look at some really simple statistics, based exclusively within the Big 12 season.

1st: Texas has lost 3 times. All 3 losses were road games.

2nd: Texas's average margin of victory at home is 25 points. On the road, their margin of victory is 4.

3rd: Even if we discount the losses from the statistics, average road margin of victory is 15, still well below 25.

4th: On average they score 17 more points at home than on the road.

5th: They allow three fewer points at home than on the road.

What is the conclusion we might all draw from these statistics? Texas is BETTER AT HOME!

A reasoned response

I just posted 4 replies to my own post, then I remembered that I OWN this blog, and, as such, have every right to post the whole thing right here. So here you go.

...Um. Well, I thought I'd put out a reply to this, but it's a bit tricky.

Let me start by saying that, Erin, your first and second paragraphs don't match. In theory, your first paragraph is saying that I could get anyone, because women may be more likely to find me more attractive as they get to know me. But then your second paragraph suggests that I should behave like women are guys and assume that I have to settle, because women won't change for me.

You must imagine my perplexity.

Anyway, Joel is correct. I have never settled. If I've been interested in a girl, dated one, performed S&M with one, etc. etc., it was because she was, as we all seem to agree, beautiful in my eyes.

Allow me to post anonymously the email of another...

"I'm glad you decided to make some changes that you think may be helpful instead of getting sad and depressed (which is what I tend to do-as I'm eating my 2nd sandwich and drinking coke-NOT ALLOWED IN MY CURRENT DIET!). It probably would be good to start showing girls that you like them instead of being the big brother/buddy type guy (as long as you stay my buddy). I have had many guy friends like that (most of my best guy friends have that type of personality but it doesn't affect me cause I am on the inside-family circle) and I always tell them to start showing what they really feel and think. Doing that reflects confidence and that's what people are attracted to I guess."

Sorry, just thought I'd insert that. It's mostly unrelated to my own thoughts, but I figured everyone should be heard on the topic, if they happen to have an opinion.

Um, so where was I? First, I need it to be understood that this whole problem has been far more extensive than a 4 day issue. It's been the story of my life up to this point, it feels like. Certainly, I've had a bit of luck on isolated occasions, but overall my numbers aren't great. And, really, I think it has to do with more than my simple physical make-up. Being overweight doesn't stop everyone. Being unkempt and bearded has actually been a boon to a few.

I think our anonymous poster may be correct. Social circles are created by confidence, arrogance, belief, and a degree of disregard. A certain physical look may be the gateway to those personality characteristics, but said look isn't the whole package. Think of the beautiful people in high school for example. How many of them were ACTUALLY attractive? And how many attractive people were not considered beautiful people? There is a reason for all that.

My theory is that the Petes of the world are actually like me. They are not arrogant. They do not disregard other people. We all probably share a similar degree of confidence. The only difference is that people in bars have come to assume that individuals who LOOK like Pete and his similars are actually in the popular crowd. For a night, it is easy to keep up this facade.

And, really, shouldn't one night be enough? How do nervous men end up with "beautiful" women? They pull the bait and switch. They demonstrate a person they are not and then it's too late. A psychological commitment has been made. In the end it may work and it may not, but it has at least been given a chance.

As such, I stand by my desire to lose my weight and get a bit more muscular. If it works, neat. If not, well, I'll just have to try something else.

One other thing.

Joel, as you may have guessed, all of this could not help my current predicament. In that regard I am stuck and have no answer. As painful and idiotic as it must seem to you, though, I remain optimistic. It may take a month. It may take 3 years. It may take 40. I may have moved on time and again. I may get married. I may get divorced. But through all of that, in the back of my head, there will be a quiet, little man, waiting.

sidenote: KU sent me a letter today letting me know that I now have a scholarship that, if my calculations are correct, should pay about half my tuition, which is neat.

A quick edit

Concerning the adventuresome story about Pete. Don't think it is negative. Pete wanted me to write up a story about our night on the plaza. I'll get to it. I'm just a little lazy.

The Odd Man Out

I realized something terrible today. I've actually realized it numerous times before, but it makes me unhappy every time.

I'm the brother. That's my role. That's how pretty much all women see me.

The enclosed text is part of an email I wrote earlier, expressing my late-night sleepy feelings about an important subject: me.

So it's pretty late. When it's late, I tend to get in a reflective mood. Tonight (this morning) I would like to express my irritation that my buddy pete is a really, really nice guy with not a lot of self-esteem who also happens to be a very attractive fellow.

Now, the problem I have with this is that he's essentially got exactly the same bar resume as me. He's the "nice guy who every likes at the end of the night." And I'm very happy for him about this. It's just that I ALSO am the nice guy who everyone likes at the end of the night.

Except I am an awful lot rounder and less attractive than Pete.

Ordinarily I would resolve this issue by, of course, beating pete up, using my giant muscles and stuff, but I just wouldn't feel right about that. Pete is a good guy. He does not deserve to be beat up.

(Also, I'm actually a very nervous person who is as afraid of hitting people as of being hit!)

And I guess that's it. That's my rant. It may not be my best, because I only added one or two jokes at most, but what're you gonna do at this time of night?

The best question a person can ask one's self when faced with a situation like this is, "What are you going to do about it?"

And, I suppose for once, I have an answer for that. I'm going to have to keep doing what I've been doing. I'm tired of being the friend, the buddy, the surrogate brother, the nice guy with the keys, and all of those other things that make me uniquely myself and sad and alone at 5am. I'm going to have to stick to this diet. I going to have to lose this weight. Then I'm going to have to get mildly muscley.

And then, maybe, I'll get somewhere.

You know, a few weeks ago when I told you I was going on this diet, you asked me why, then decided it was so I could be a healthier person with less risk of heart disease and other things like that, but in all honesty that isn't the case.

I have great genes. I am the son of generations and generations of overweight people who lived til they were 80 and 90. I'm losing this weight because I don't want to be the third wheel, the driver, the cabbie, the odd man out, or any of those other words that mean the guy who sits alone at the bar.

p.s. speaking of which, my next entry will be a story about the talented Pistol Pete. I anticipate that it should be very adventure-some

Nothing Special

On the other hand, I had a pretty nice time last night.


As did, I'm guessing a few other people!

about law schools and over-reacting

This first segment is in response to questions received concerning my acceptance into KU:

I would not say that KU is my first choice, but I would definitely be happy to go there. To be honest, my first choice depends a lot on factors other than the actual merit of the school itself.

For example, my first choice would be William and Mary school of Law in virginia, but only if I get a research fellowship there. KU would be my first choice if certain key things happened that I anticipate will not happen now or ever. Temple would be my first choice if W&M didn't accept me and none of those other things happened.

See? And now what if various factors did end up happening? There are simply too many possibilities to accurately predict what's going to happen over the next month and 1/2.

So this is all a wait and see sort of thing. I guess we'll all know more by April 15ish.

In other news:

So, for fear that too many people are reading this blog, I'm going to keep the following thoughts intentionally really vague.

Women-type friends, do you often misinterpret when a guy either is or is not flirting with you? Especially if you've got a thing for said guy? I find that men in my general social class do this all the time. If I were interested in doing wonderful and naughty things with a particular woman, I would instantly start looking for any kind of sign that she might be interested.

This leads to an awful lot of misunderstandings, because, at least in my experience, I have never correctly determined a sign of flirting. Never. In my whole life. At least, that I know of.

I spend great deals of my time contemplating the slightest unusual turn of phrase or minor increase in conversation frequency. All of it gets me so psyched up that I automatically start assuming that the woman in question is in to me.

Luckily, I'm a huge coward. So I wait a few days, continue reading the signs and discover that the girl was probably just less busy/ in a good mood/ bored/ etc. And I just happened to be a handy person to talk to.

And so my slightly cynical HTGBWET tip of the day is this: She isn't flirting with you. Don't ever assume she is. You may act, but you must never assume you are reacting. And don't reach for the stars. Stars are really just points of light that happened a thousand years ago.

They are, essentially, illusions. And in the end illusions never make you feel good.

Newton!

Two more chapters up. I'm thinking that these might be the last ones I officially publish online. Until I get turned down by a few publishing houses, I'd like to have the option of actually publishing this story as a book at some point. (actually a trilogy, but who's counting?)

Anyway, feel free to give me your thoughts on that one. Also, for those really involved in the story, just let me know and I'll continuing emailing chapters to you on wednesday.

Chapter 10 - Newton

Chapter 11 - The Refugees

The whole thing

A second, minor fact

Oh yeah. I also got a phone call from the lovely folks in Lawrence letting me know that I got accepted into the KU law program today.

That's right. A personal telephone call! From a real person!

A Generically Funny Phrase

You know what's a generically funny phrase?

"Huge and gaping."

Seriously, that is funny in almost every context. Especially when talking about tearing someone a new a-hole, but also probably in other areas.

I would not recommend using it while in the process of getting babes without even trying, though, as you would probably have to start trying.

Possible Jobs

Since mentioning that I would take a job in KC for no less than $15/hr about 5 minutes ago, I have been innundated with emails asking me what kind of job I would accept that was "at least partially related" to my field of study.

Who sent these emails, you ask? Well, let me look up the names.

William Gibson
Sandy Cofax
Abe Lincoln
Julia Childs
and, I guess, GirlsGoneWild Gallery HOTHOTHOT!, though I don't know how they got my email address.

As such, I feel it is necessary to write my preferred job listings:

Research Assistant
Human Resource Assistant
Human Clown Assistant
Kemper Arena Voice Announcer for the 2006 AFL season
Looky-Lou
Vagina Monologuist
Santa's Little Helper
Racing Dog Trainer
Human Gazebo
and, of course, legal assistant

I also think it would be cool to get into voice acting, but I'm not sure how one does that or if it can be done in kansas city.

Odds and Ends

So I'm headed back to work tomorrow, so I feel the need to write something here tonight for fear that I'll be too tired later.

Um. But what should I write about?

I could talk about the sadness I feel deep within me concerning the recent extensive loss to Texas, but I probably won't. Texas played better than they've played against just about anyone last night. I'm figuring it was just a blip. Now if K-state and CU figure out how never to miss a shot as well, I'll start to be worried.

Seriously. Alridge (or whatever his name is) needs to declare for the NBA draft yesterday.

Audrie, I totally feel for you in Cali now. It's a very strange experience to be so far out of the loop. But I suppose we do what we must.

Tomorrow, on my lunch break, I think I'm gonna arrange an interview with a staffing service in KC on friday. If they can get me a job at $15/hr up there in a field vaguely related to mine, I'll almost certainly take it. Anything less and I'll probably stay down in Ta Town.

Um. I'm really very pumped about publishing the next two chapters of my story on Wednesday. We finally run into Newton. Newton is almost a mini-story itself and my homage to Stephen King novels. It might be my favorite part thus far.

I guess that does it. I just don't have much to say in this post. Too many little things. No big things. Maybe I'll have something big by next sunday. Maybe not. I guess we'll see.

Nathan's 6 Month Dystopia

So I was talking to Kristi yesterday, and then I had an unrelated chat with my mom tonight about the unacknowledged "other" smart group in our class at andale. You know the one? Dustin, Luke, John May, Amanda, and those other folks?

Anyway, all of this made me a little reflective. It's a good thing too. Otherwise that car would never have seen me.

...

Yeah, not my best joke.

Anyway, I started to think about where we all are right now, and I had a horrible moment of realization. We've all moved on. Sure. We've maintained contact. At holidays we get together. We leave messages on each others blogs. But each and every one of us has created these core groups of other individuals. We all have new, different support groups that don't relate to one another.

As a perfect example, aside from Dean and Julie's hubby, I've never met any of the significant others among the female members of the group. How bizarre is that?

I think what really drives this point home for me is the fact that I don't really have one of those social groups right now. I have internet friends. I have friends back in montana. I have old high school friends who I see about as often as I used to when I went to montana. I have old KU friends, who I almost never see.

And that's about it. You have no idea how strange this is for me. I'm the on who is supposed to be the social animal with 350 friends, all of whom I can hang out with on a whim. Now I'm an outsider. I could probably try to join up with K-dog's friends (that's you, Kristi) or KT's friends (that's you, Katie), but there would always be that weird knowledge, that thought about me in the back of peoples minds, "Oh, there's such-and-such's friend."

Of course, in 6 months, all of this will be a moot point. I'll be at whatever school I'm going to next and will quickly develop a close-knit cadre of buddies. But for 6 months I'm gonna just be this guy on the outside, who no one wants to get really buddy-buddy with, because he'll be gone in such a short time.

I tell you. It's a strange thought. Maybe my little rant last week about how I hate my co-workers was more important than I thought. People should normally be able to make one or two friends at work. I've made none. I'm not in any organizations. I have no other resources.

How odd.

Baby, I'm amazed

Oh my gosh, you guys, you have to see this. It's a video, so try only to watch it if you have a good internet connection. It's a news story about a kid from rochester, NY who did something extraordinary.

Check it out.

Seriously. I almost cried a little bit. It's amazing.

Rule #23 and why I'm feelin fine

So it is 4:30 in the afternoon and I am feeling GREAT! Tony the Tiger great. I got paid today. I took care of a bunch of errands. Later I think I'm gonna get a hair cut. I got my check card from my new bank account.

It's seriously a wonderful world.

As such, I feel it is time for another edition of HTGBWET.

Today I would like to talk to you about pop or soda or whatever you want to call it. I feel this new splenda trend may be the single greatest thing ever to happen to carbonated beverages. Last night I purchased some new pepsi ONE variants that are out of this world.

So, you might be asking, what does this have to do with the rule of the day?

Two words:

Grape Soda.

That's right, nothing in the world says pimpdaddy more than hanging out on your front porch in your faux fur overcoat, wielding your frozen cane, and drinkin' some delicious grape soda.

A beautiful woman walks by on the street? No problem. Simply say, "Hey, baby! You wanna sip of my delicious grape soda?"

INSTANT ACTION!

No woman can resist a pimpdaddy drinkin' grape soda on the front porch. We're talking instant animal magnetism.

But, you see, it doesn't end there. Suppose you are a pimpdaddy in the style of Dolemite, concerned that you don't want to gain a lot of weight while staring down some jive turkey. No problem. Because, you see, one of those pepsi one variants at walmart is GRAPE ONE!! That's right! Diet grape soda that tastes more like regular grape soda, thanks to the wonder of splenda. What fine days are these!

Now, with that said, please allow me to leave you with these memorable words:

I'm gonna let 'em know that Dolemite is back on the scene! I'm gonna let 'em know that Dolemite is my name, and f**kin' up motha f**kas is my game!

Two more chapters!

As promised, I now have the next two chapters posted. This week we meet the Prairiea and finally strike the Trail.

Chapter 8 - The Prairiea

Chapter 9 - The Trail

The whole thing

Why I don't like listening to Jim Rome on the radio

I shall now do an internet impersonation of Why Jim Rome Sucks.

We will start with a quote from Barry Bonds that Jim rome reads on the air.

"'I will tackle that bridge when I get to it.' <25> You're going to tackle that bridge? <45> So let me get this straight. YOu are going to tackle that bridge. Barry Bonds is gonna Tackle that Bridge when he gets to it."

Commercial

After the commercial Rome reads a quick email from a fan. "Dear Romey, that was an epic rant you did on Barry Bonds."

He reads another one after a 25 second pause.
"Hey Jim, Don't count your chicks before they're all in one basket, signed, Barry Bonds." This, if you don't understand, is someone who ALSO knows how to mix metaphors in a humorous manner, and who makes the "signed, famous stupid person" joke for the 8 billionth time, because that joke never gets old .

<3>

"Now let's talk about Nascar."

Jim Rome is only hilarious if A) you love minor errors on the part of atheletes, B) you don't know what people are talking about when they mention "comedic timing," and C) you enjoy exactly the same joke repeated over and over, day after day, and again and again in 2 minute spans.

On the other hand, I am curious to hear Bill Self on a radio show, so I might listen tomorrow.

Story Delay

Hey folks, I know I was supposed to post 2 more chapters, but, as I you can see, I have not yet. This will be rectified by Thursday evening. I was busy today. The pages are already written, if that makes you feel better, but I haven't had the time to edit.

KC?

So, in the interest of getting a job that might actually look good on future applications, I am continuing my application frenzy. Also, it would be nice to be paid at a level slight above poverty.

My most recent application sending spree has been for the KC area. It isn't that I particularly want to move up there. It's that there just seem to be more opportunities for a person with my particular skill set.

Now we'll just have to see if that's true.

Kay rocks! And thoughts of the future

First off, I would like to say that Kay is totally awesome. "Why?" you ask. "Is it because she has rock hard abs, or because you both share a major?"

And the answer, of course, is yes, but that isn't the reason I say so this time.

Today I feel that Kay rocks because she is the only person to leave any comments about my story so far. This could mean that she's the only one reading it, which would make me sad. Especially considering the fact that we have a number of prolific readers on this board.

So meh to all you non-readers. Though, if you thought about reading my story earlier, but haven't gotten around to it, I would suggest starting with the most recent two chapters. You won't know why things are happening, but you may enjoy the action and suspense.

Also, Kay, feel free to take a bow in the comments section. If you are sufficiently mean-spirited and haughty, I might post your words on the main board, making you instantly famous for at least 4 people.

Also, everyone should check out the Flogging Molly's 2000 Album Swagger. It's good stuff. I recommend it. It's irish rock, so it may take a song or two to get used to, but it gets good once you do. I especially recommend the worst day since yesterday and far away boys.

Um. Anything else worth mentioning?

Here's a thought I had today. I sometimes wonder who I'm going to end up marrying. Is it someone I already know? Is it someone I've not yet met? Could it be a passing aquaintance? The weird thing is, I rarely worry that I will never marry.

I say that is weird, because factors don't seem to have fallen in my favor over recent years. I've only had one girlfriend ever and have never done a single face to face romantic thing. I don't know how to pick up on women at social events. I don't know how to pick up on women at work. I don't know what the difference IS between a conversation in which a guy and a girl are clicking like future lovers and a conversation where a guy and a girl are clicking like future good friends. And I don't have any kind of courage.

Nevertheless, I remain certain that I will one day marry. Sure, I spend an awful lot of days worrying about that middle stuff, but no days worrying about the ultimate conclusion.

Maybe I should consider starting to worry at some point.

Maybe not. I just don't know.

Edit: One other thing. Here is an article I really like. I think it fairly accurately describes the background of the more heated political arguments to be found on Kristi's blog. It is an article that suggests that part of the reason we disagree in modern America is because different groups start off, not just with different beliefs, but with different facts.

Interesting stuff. Makes a lot of sense. And believe me, I NEVER say that.

Money and Dewey

Wow, I'm actually writing a bit today. First, everyone, go down to the post right below this to find out why I think you are all so awesome. Second, thanks to all of your generous clicks last week, I earned another $.51, making my grand total about 80 cents. Only 62 and 1/2 more weeks, and I'll be able to pay for that party for all of you! Please, feel free to click ad nauseam.

As to the reason for this unorthodox second post... It's WEDNESDAY! That means it's time for me to release two more chapters of my on going story. As a little recap, Dewey and the cousins have just met their creepy guide Thad and his crow Heppy. Be prepared for a little excitement in these next two chapters, as the gang goes from fear of death to fear of death. And be aware that you are about to meet my favorite character (save Dewey himself, of course). Now, without further ado...

Chapter 6 - Troubled Horizon

Chapter 7 - A Kansas Farmer

Whole Story

you guys are awesome

So, at the risk of sounding like one of those people who always talks about cats, I think I'm gonna talk about my sister's cat. At the moment it is sitting on my lap top, watching my mouse move back and forth on the blank white screen. Cats are incredibly stupid. Especially my sister's.

Anyway, in real news I'm going to have real money for the first time in a while on Friday. That's right, my first pay check AND my tax refund are slated to come on the same day. I would say that this excites me in unnatural ways, but I tend not to get erections over monetary exchanges.

Go figure.

Other news: I just figured out today that I could still apply to Georgetown Law if I wanted. Luckily, I don't want to, so things seem to be working out.

If you haven't already guessed, today's post is likely going to be a series of unconnected statements.

OH! Got it. Here's something worth talking about. So I don't think I like my co-workers. Mind you, I don't particularly dislike them, but I definitely also don't like them. They are uninteresting people who don't understand my jokes and don't follow the logic for why said jokes might be funny.

Allow me to diagram a standard bit of Nathan Humor. My best verbal humor is rooted in the notion that it is funny to be overly excited about boring things. For example, the phrase "It is what it is" in spanish is "eso si que es." Thus, if someone asks "how's it going" you can say "it is what it is" but in spanish and be deep.

But the humor comes in when I excitedly go into what makes this phrase especially awesome. See, there's a GREAT mnemonic to remember "eso si que es." SOCKS! Get it? Read it slower...

SOCKS

Slower....

SOOOCCCKKKKS

SPELL it.

S.... O.... C.... K... S...

IT'S THE SAME! OH MY GOD! IT'S INCREDIBLE!

(for those who still don't follow, allow the following visual aid)

SO = Eso
C =Si
K = Que
S = Es!

See? Standard Nathan humor. It isn't meant for a laugh exactly. It's meant to make everyone feel comfortable and happy. The problem is that I don't accomplish this goal with my co-workers. They just look at me, roll their eyes, and go back to talking to one another. And it isn't even that they are serious people who want to focus on their work. I listen to their constant conversation. They share a wide number of laughs over the day. But never because of me.

And so I don't like them, but they aren't mean, so I don't dislike them either. They're just... not you folks. I may have been spoiled by having smart, witty, worldy friends to begin with and for such a long time. None of you is dull or slow or protected within your own world of inanities.

I guess I'm saying thanks to all of you for being such bright, wonderful people.

One other thing, my co-workers hate steve martin, the wild and crazy guy. This may be a step too far. I can forgive one or the other, but absolutely not both. See the movie Roxanne. Steve Martin is a national treasure.

serious workers?

The boss was not in to work today. In theory this should mean that everyone spends the day goofing off, but now that I work with a bunch of adults that doesn't happen.

Strange world.

Happy Valentine's Day

Much as I said I would, I've decided to repost what I think of this whole notion of love and all that on Valentine's day (i.e. today). As many of you know, I've spent the past 25 years without any particular person that I was supposed to give anything to on this day. I used to get more sad about that. These past few years, the sadness has been far less significant. I think I've just come to accept that, at least for now, to be alone on Valentine's Day is my lot in life.

Will it change? Maybe. Maybe not. I certainly don't know. I sure hope so, though. To that effect, I thought I'd let you all know that I've officially lost 20 lbs so far on my diet. On Sunday I might post a new picture. I'd be a little surprised if you saw much difference. I think the weight loss is more all around and less targeted toward my belly.

Um. Yeah. So I guess, without any further ado, I re-present The Fictions in our Heads.

I think it's possible that the last 20 minutes of the christmas special of The Office, made by those crazy brits across the sea, are the best 20 minutes of television ever written.

Of course, in order for them to really do their job, you have to slog through the rest of it, but that isn't too bad.

But, back to the main point, I don't know if I have ever felt more joyful and hopeful than I did when I saw Dawn walk back in. If you've seen it, I think you'll know exactly what I mean. It's amazing. It's that affirmation of life that so many priests try to explain every sunday, but never quite manage. It is the pure, unadulterated joy of knowing that, once you get past all of the horribleness and anger and frustration and pain and fear of loneliness, out there is a moment of wonder and relief that makes everything else worth it.

Of course, this is television. That kind of thing doesn't happen in real life. I doubt I will ever experience it. To quote Shakespeare "Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Real lives aren't poetic or just or meaningful. For all of the imagined drama real lives simply are what they are. But that doesn't mean I can't dream about a life that mght be one of beauty and love and spirit and meaning.

You know, I don't remember where I heard this, but I once caught the argument for Santa Clause. Specifically, the question was why do we lie to our children about things like Santa Clause and elves and fairies and magic. The answer was perfect. We lie about those things to teach children about the bigger lie of truth, liberty, justice, and morality. In reality, all of those things are just fictions in our head. They are stories we place upon events so that the world makes sense. But can you imagine a world without them?

I don't ever want to.

And so, if we're going to believe in truth, liberty, justice, morality, and all those other things, why shouldn't we believe in love and a happy ending as well?

Oh, one other thing. I once got a girl a box of chocolates on valentine's day, because she didn't have a boyfriend at the time, and I thought she deserved one. Even if it isn't me, I think she still does. As far as I can tell, she spent almost her entire life worrying for and helping others. Anyone whose been through her life deserves someone who will spend a little time looking after her. And boy, can she dance.

Evil Nate: Part II

Here is a little Evidence, concerning my opinion of Evil Nate. As you see, if Simon grew about 9 inches, broke his nose, got incredibly muscular, and became evil, he would turn into this Nebraska Cornhusker.

Luckily for Nate, none of that seems likely to happen, unless he takes a special potion that also turns him green when he gets angry.

Edit (9:06PM): Also, for anyone who listens to the spodcast at KUsports.com, I was mentioned as njthomas this week for coming up with "spodbacker," which makes more sense if you listen to the program. Sadly, they guessed I might be New Jersey Billy Thomas because I didn't list my name, but what can you do. Maybe I'll let them know that it's Nathan John Thomas. Maybe not.

Either way, if you like KU sports and have time to listen to a 45 minute program every few days, check it out. KU Spodcasters.

Three things (or Evil Nate Simon)

OK, three things.

First, I work for Koch Industries, scanning boxes of info and summarizing the contents. Ultimately, I'm the guy who gives the info to the guy who decides whether old documents may be destroyed or must be saved for legal purposes.

Second, the huge bastard who plays ball for Nebraska U. and fouled out tonight looks like the evil version of Nate Simon. Every time I saw him, I thought, "Nate Simon! But evil!"

Third, I'm posting the next few chapters of my story, because it is wednesday, and that's what I do on Wednesday.

Chapter 4 - 3 A. M.

Chapter 5 - The Crow in the Plains

A word of warning. I've been a bit busy and haven't had the chance to re-edit these two chapters, so they might be a bit more scratchy than the first few.

And, once again, for the link to the full story.

Fanaticism: I hate crazy people.

Alright, it has been a secondary mission of mine over the years to try to push people away from fulfilling the negative stereotypes to which they were born. For example, I wish fat white guys wouldn't be hicks and/or evil CEOs.

As such, this whole going freaking nuts thing concerning a couple political cartoons made by the danes really depresses me. I mean, come on. So some cartoonists drew a politically oriented image of Mohammed. Only a crazy person would riot, burn down buildings, make fire bombs, and generally go insane with rage.

The proper thing to do, if you are really that offended, is to strike back in a like way. One islamic newspaper had a drawing of ann frank sleeping with hitler. This is close, but I think it still doesn't do the job.

For one thing, the Danes tend not to be Jewish. Drawing an ann frank/hitler cartoon is like punching your sister because your brother made you angry.

If I were these wild eyed islamic folks, I might draw a picture of Jesus being anally raped by the danish president, or something. Except it's possible that depictions of Jesus are also not supposed to be made in the islamic religion, as he was also supposed to be a prophet.

I read one statement from some Iranian fellow that said they needed to fight back against these negative portrayals of islam in the worldwide press, which is why the protests were happening. The thing is, I'm reasonably certain that most of the world was starting to feel a lot less negative about the muslim religion up until the crazy fanatics started burning things down again.

OVER SOME PICTURES!

Maybe it's just my humanist nature that doesn't understand. I could easily see something similar happening in the states if a major newspaper published a picture of Bush raping Jesus. How many crazies would come out of the woodwork to try to burn down that newspaper? I guess I just don't understand fanaticism.

Jesus taught us all to turn the other cheek. For goodness sakes, he died because he was working so hard at turning the other cheek. It's strange to me that we live in a world where so many in the Judeo-Christian-Islamic religion consider it perfectly acceptable to go against everything our religious forebearers taught us out of a sense of fanatic pride. "Don't turn the other cheek, burn down a building." "Disregard Jesus and exclaim with total certainty exactly where homosexuals are going when they die." "Pride is far more important than humility."

The sad man within me who wishes so many humans weren't fulfilling their negative stereotypes is crying a little bit. The big fat fun guy on the outside is mostly just embarrassed.

Job? and Black Slacks

So I just went to a job interview for a position that has almost nothing to do with my education or background, but that pays well enough. I guess it's something.


In other news, I'm reasonably certain that I look dead sexy in my dress shirt and black slacks. If any of you ladies see me and just can't keep your hands off, don't worry. It's ok to touch. Just don't ruin the threads.

HTGBWET Tip #345214: Black slacks from JC Penney's are way more awesome than Khaki from JC Penney's. Or walmart.

p.s. I'm trying to go a bit more commercial. If you click the links above, I earn money. So far, I've earned over 30 cents! In 2 months! So I figure, once that number hits $50, I'ma throw you guys a party.

This should give you incentive! Please, click whenever anything catches your eye.

Edit: UPDATE: Ok. Turns I I definitely do have a new job now. I just got the call. I'll be starting tomorrow, bright and early, at 8am. Crazy.

College Hoops Infamy

So I was reading about Temple's lowest scoring game since the 70's on espn, and the writer decided to research that 70's game. Which brings us to this article. Read it for a laugh, a shock, and, maybe, a laugh again.

It was a full, college regulation game. But there was no shot clock. Final score? 11 to 6.

That's right. You heard me. 11 points to 6 points. To put that in perspective, KU beat OU 59 to 58. Hell, my niece's 6th grade team today beat St. marks 18 to 15.

11 to 6.

Amazing.

KU v OU

Now THAT was some game!

2002

Alright, I'm writing a new post explicitly to get beauty and the geek off the top of my board. I mean, honestly, talk about embarrassing. Even if it is a great show.


Instead I would like to talk about the south american wombat.

Wait. No, that's no good either.

Ok. I would like to talk about pictures. I'm a little bit of a sentimentalist. I don't know if anyone knew that. I like to fish through old things and remember the many wonderful adventures I've had in my life. I like to see images of my time in germany. I like reading through my old yearbooks every once in a while and thinking about all the things I did and all the things I wish I'd done.

Most recently (re: tonight) I've gotten out old college pictures. I have a set of my pledge sons and I taking Grover the cooler around campus. I've got some graduation pictures. I've even got a really awesome picture of Rob, Kyle, and me dressed up as gangesters for halloween.

But the one I like the most was taken on Dec. 21, 2002, according to the bottom right corner of the picture. Joel had come to visit. That was when he first met my friend Vanja. It's a picture I like, not because it tells a story, but because it paints a feeling. It reminds me of the times when I feel safe and happy and absolutely surrounded by friends. Which is crazy, because besides me there is only one friend in the picture.

I think, save a few really dark times, the year 2002 may have been my favorite college year. Better than 2003, when I graduated and spent my first real time in a state that was not my own. Better than 2000, when I started to get my life together and had a girlfriend for the first time and road horses. Better, even, than 2004, when I got drunk for the first time and book-ended the year in New York at the beginning and Kansas City at the end.

2002 was my year. That was the year I went to germany. The year I first attempted alcohol.
The year I finally got all A's in a semester. The year I really started to give a crap. The year I settled on psychology. The year I took the GRE. The year I finally found a second best friend.

And, of course, that was the year I met the Bosnian Babe, the other person in my picture.

So I'm wondering. Do any of you folks have a year like that? A sort of turning year, when everything clarifies, and you realize who you are, what you might want to be, and that maybe there is a reason for all of this? I'm willing to accept school years, but I think, somehow, the summer is a surprisingly important piece to a true turning year.

Also, Audrie, Jenny sent me pics of your baby. VERY CUTE. You want I should post one or two, or are you going to be sending us all a link at some point?

Beauty and the Geek

There totally is social strata. And to that point, the tv series Beauty and the Geek offends me. (and I would like to point out that I dont watch it, and everything I know about it comes from seeing previews during other shows I watch and from watching The Soup) It annoys me that people think that these guys should change so they can hook up with these moronic girls! It's the girls who should change, and by change I mean become smarter. They are idiots, and the boys/geeks should be looking for someone in their "strata" because despite the fact that these girls are pretty, they are morons. And really, once you're done with the shagging, you want someone you can talk to. Or at least, I do. - Sara

Holy cow! I'm writing a lot today. Ok, before I talk about Beauty and the Geek, I want to mention that I also posted on the topic of Releasing the Fish for all you HTGBWET afficionados out there. It's a fun read. In fact, you should check it out before reading this post.

Are you reading it?

I'm waiting.

Ok. Good to see you got back so quickly. I also posted more chapters to my story, but you don't need to read those.

Now I could spend the next hour talking about not judging a book by its cover, but instead let me just talk about the show Beauty and the Geek.

I, for one, am a big fan. At first I wasn't sure if I was going to like it, figuring it for a ridiculous version of the Average Joe, but then I watched the first episode last year and was startled to discover exactly what the point of the show was.

It has nothing to do with making matchs, love, dating, or any of those other stupid reality shows out there. It's all about socially apt but intellectually challenged women teaching socially inept men a little about human interaction, and brilliant but socially inept men teaching women a little about the intellectual world.

At the end no one gets together. No one falls in love. No one is supposed to. The only real goal of the show is to become a more well rounded individual. Sara was correct with her comment, that the girls should become smarter, but she was wrong to think that the guys on the show should not try to change as well.

I mean, honestly, shouldn't growth in areas that truly challenge us be the goal of every individual? Last season I really identified with a lot of those so-called geeks, because not too long ago I knew exactly where they were coming from. Hell, there is a bit of me that still knows. By the end of last season I was cheering for those geeks who had conquered some fears and learned some of the minutia of social interaction, and I was frustated by the geeks who rejected it all and decided to continue living in their shells.

To an extent I felt the same way about the women, but I've never been a dim person, so I don't really identify with them. It was certainly nice to see a few of them demonstrate a level of intelligence I never would have predicted at the shows onset, though.

If one followed the previews and previous experience alone, this is a show that could be easily shrugged aside as more "reality" tripe from the idiot networks. But I assure you, it is not. It is a show with heart, warmth, and understanding. It is a show about growth and learning. And, at the end, it is a show that you think may actually be a bit more real than you had ever expected.

The Story - 2 more chapters

And for those of you following such things, here are the next two chapters of my story.

The Cousins

The Boatman

For anyone not interested, my new post below this one on "releasing the fish" more closely follows the HTGBWET creed, which I haven't written down yet.

Releasing the Fish

Today, in my continuing series for guys who just don't get it: releasing the fish back into the stream.

It has come to my attention that many men don't know proper bar ettiquette. Suppose you've finally gotten over yourself and gotten up the nerve to talk to that girl you've been eyeing from across the bar. Things seem to be going well. You've hit it off. Everyone seems to be having a good time.

Now, being new on the scene, I'm sure you're thinking to yourself, "Hot damn! Things are finally looking up! I could probably hang out with this girl all night long!"

WRONG!!!!

Sadly, this is simply not true in bar politics. I know it is a stereotype, but for some reason it seems to be true. Guys have an ability to instantlly form a crush. The ladies do not. For some reason women need a breather in order to allow themselves to decide exactly what they thought of you. Perhaps they need to talk to their friends about you or consult the spirits. I have no idea. I only know that you MUST NOT leach on to them the rest of the night.

You must be breezy. You must be friendly. Don't be aloof. Be busy.

At a natural pause in the conversation say something like, "Oh, hey, I need to go check on my friends, but maybe I'll see you in a bit?"

The woman will always respond with an affirmative. It is the nature of the bar room.

And then you walk away. It may be the hardest thing you have to do all night. It is terrifying, but it is really better for all parties. Then you wait. If you see her across the room, pretend you don't. If you never see her again, consider it fate. No matter what, you must wait.

A wise man once told me that if the girl comes back, she was always yours. If she does not, she never was.

In a sense, it is a softer and easier way for both parties. It essentially gives women a choice. If they like the guy, they can go and start talking to him again. They can even mask it by "bringing a friend over to meet his friend."

UBER TRICKY!

However, if she decides she just isn't interested, she doesn't have to be freaked out about rejecting him. She simply doesn't have to go back. No one need feel the pain and embarrassment that comes from an upfront rejection.

Many people write to me and ask, "But Nathan, what if all my friends end up going to another bar? What if we never see each other again, but not by choice?"

To these people I say, "Freaking deal with it. The quest for a relationship need not be a quest for winning lotto numbers. There is a part of me that believes that every person has his or her perfect match, but there is another part of me that moderates the statement by saying a perfect match must be molded by time and hard work. Don't waste your time dreaming of the perfect someone or the one that got away. If you do, the only thing you should truly being mourning is the loss of your self. Dip your line back into that vivid blue water and wait. Another will come along."

Then I bitch-slap them.

35% vs 60%

I feel that it is necessary to address the issue of women falling for the more male assholes in the world.

In a sense, I absolutely believe this is true, but not for the reason that anyone probably thinks.

Let's start with a few statistics. Or, at the very least, at least one statistic. By the time their college tenure has ended approximately 60% of women have had sex. Meanwhile only about 35% of men have done likewise.

Why do you suppose this is? Is it because men are more pure, chaste, and holy than women? HELL NO! Sadly, because of the nature of the study, we cannot determine an actual reason for this disparity, but I have what I think is a pretty good guess.

I'd like to call it the manwhore theory, but that wouldn't exactly be correct. As far as I am concerned, in this case there are only two kinds of men. Direct men and sheepish men. Alpha and beta males. The ballsy and the ballsfree. If we return to my previous post on the matter, we shall see that there is, in fact, a method by which people hook up. Regrettably, the ballsfree men don't know that. They've been suckered by movies and fiction. They've been led to believe, totally falsely, that, in order to get together with a particular girl, they need to present within themselves all that that woman desires.

Conversely, if they discover that another male has gotten with a girl, they then attempt to figure out exactly what qualities that male had that allowed him to get together with her.

The answer to that line of inquiry is almost always the same. He's an asshole. This, ladies, is the absolute truth. Except with Dean, who is, as you shall see in the link, the man and who has massive pectorals and other parts. For the most part, though, these guys who are so good at getting with the ladies are assholes.

See, they were able to figure out that magical formula way before most guys, because they didn't give two shits about being rejected. Also, assholes tended to drink a lot more in high school, giving them an experience in picking up women edge. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, assholes are aggressive. I don't mean violent. I mean aggressive. They will pursue and not sit back and try to learn by watching.

Lord, how i hate them. Except a few who are pretty fun guys.

And so, males and females alike, do not dispair. We live in the age of the fruitbat. Times are changing. People are learning. Ladies, don't feel frustrated because you always fall for the cockheads of the world. It isn't that you draw them. It's that the good ones haven't figured out the rules to approaching you yet. And men, I know it's more fun and easier to be pissed off, but get your shit together! Women aren't falling for assholes because they LIKE assholes. They're falling for assholes because assholes are the only available options.

Tomorrow (or maybe later tonight): The art of releasing the fish back into the stream. Know it. Learn it. Love it.

Disclaimer: I remain in that unfortunate category of men called the ballsfree. As such, all advice is based upon zero experience. As I don't have much in the way of expendable cash at the moment, my odds of moving into the other category are low. Nevertheless, I'm almost certain that I am correct. If any beautiful, wealthy young women out there are reading this right now, feel free to post a comment about your obvious desire to move me a few categories up in the world. Trust me. There is no shame in that.

Further Disclaimer: One should not assume that all my tales of sexcapades with kay (see here, here, here, and here) are entirely fictional based upon the previous disclaimer, even if they are.

laxities

A valid point has been made that I feel I must address. For today's HTGBWET I'm going to go with an old classic. Become extraodinarily wealthy, own a castle, have a bust made of you that accents your better features, at first appear to be cruel and unpleasant, but then reveal that you are, in fact, a wonderful person who would do anything for a friend or the woman you love.

If you do all this, many people might label you a wealthy, if eccentric, wuss, but it is a guaranteed way, apparantly, to make babies with Kiera Knightley.

Or you could just be a bounty hunter. That's fun too.

My name is Wilt Dean Allen Naismith

Recently, on a KU message board, I came across the following post, explaining why a poster thought that Aaron Miles was the 3rd worst point guard in KU history.

i personally have played against miles, hienrich, my boy is adonis jordon we hung out in la, and in vegas,,and played,,I also played with vaughn...and calvin rayford....when I first came to ku cedric hunter was the guard....Yes I am 38 now old and miles was very young compared to me...but he didnt do anything offensively....Miles suckered a lot of ku fans into thinking he was good, but they never looked at his performance objectively they only look at it with dumb and ignorant biases favoring Ku....this team would have beaten last years team...miles was the 3rd worst that i have seen..Miels was not better than vaughn, henirich, jordan, walters...hunter...rayford..hmmmmmm miles 3rd worst guard in ku history

I felt obliged to agree with this fellow (by the name of wpinkard) and so wrote the following reply...

I played against Wilt Chamberlain, coached against Phog Allen, and invented basketball before James Naismith.

In my vaunted opinion Wpinkard is absolutely correct. I personally taught Aaron Miles how to shoot the basketball (or "leather peach" as I like to call it) while spending a few years basking in the Oregonian rain (This was after I moved north, because I got tired of teaching John Wooden the fundamentals of basketball), and I can say, without a doubt, that he COULD NOT SCORE at the age of 2. I would pass him the ball, and instead of catching it and shooting (using the backboard, as I originally suggested), he would just fall over and start bleeding and crying.

Stupid baby!

In disgust I told him that his behavior was unacceptable, and that from now on, whenever he got the ball, he should just pass it to someone who was willing to shoot.

Of course, in basketball the only thing that matters is how many points you score (see Kobe Bryant), which means that stupid baby Aaron was absolutely terrible.

A few years later I found that that stupid baby had taken my words to heart, so, feeling sorry for him, I advised Roy Williams to use a pitty scholarship on him. He usually does what I say, since he does what Dean Smith says, and Dean Smith and I used to take Sunday brunch together while making fun of Adolph Rupp and the entire city of Halstead, making us practically brothers.

Naturally, while at KU, Miles kept doing exactly what I told him to do (they always do), and he never excelled at anything except giving the ball to other people so they could score (worthless).

And so here we are today with wpinkard as effortlessly brilliant as he can be and with a great group of young players, all probably molded after my self-image. Except Micah Downs who I told to go back to Washington because Adam Morrison asked me to, and I dig the Morrison mustache.

If you are a KU fan (or a reasonably well read college basketball fan), you should get the majority of my jokes. If not, don't worry. I'm sure I'll write something else later.

Pride... and Prejudice?

Well, so today I celebrated mom's birthday with her and went off the diet for the day. It's the first time I've been off the diet since I started in early, early January, and it's odd. While I definitely went off, I wasn't nearly able to consume what I used to. I think my stomach got too small.

It was weird.

Also, we watched Pride and Prejudice tonight, and I rather liked it. It isn't a movie that leaves you feeling wonderful and hopeful about life, but it does take you on a nice little journey that ends in a surprisingly satisfying way. I've heard the 1995 miniseries is pretty good as well. I may have to check it out now. Or at least read the book.

Hm. So what other thoughts do I have to parley? I've been feeling a little down in general lately. That's possibly why this blog seems a bit edgier of late. I think a number of factors are to blame for that. My continuing lack of income is making social interaction more and more difficult. Boredom, which had already creeped in long ago, has heightened to dangerous levels. I seem always to be fatigued.

I don't know. I could go on, but I don't like focusing on the bad anymore. I did far too much of that as a frosh in college. It never really gets you anywhere. Plus, you start getting trapped in this cycle of thought that spirals downward into this horrifying inability to see others as anything but a reflection of yourself.

I honestly feel that depression, at some level, has a basis in self-reflection. That's why it's best to avoid it.

So instead let's talk about Schools! At this point, my decisions are set nearly in stone. I may add or subtract one or two, but very few changes are expected. My schools of choice are....

(drumroll, please)

Temple, William and Mary, the George Washington U., Iowa, George Mason, Yeshiva U., KU, and Washburn.

These eight schools are the lucky eight. Among them rests the decision of where I go and what I may become. By Monday night I hope to have finished all of my personal statements, submitted all of my various forms, and begun my casual wait by the phone and mailbox. I have no intention of latching myself to either (at least until Feb 2).

With little else to do, I imagine I'll probably start furiously calling the staffing service I signed up with every 15 minutes, impatiently asking why I don't have a job yet AND YES I DO TOO MIND IF THEY PUT ME ON HOLD! I am told this method is certain to get me a job. Or is it certain to get my fired? I forget now.

Anyway, I have high hopes there.


Beyond that the world will continue to turn as it has for the past 3 months. I beg that you all wish me luck.

Also, if you are actually bored enough to read my story, I ask that you please put some kind of comment, like "well, this is a load of crap so far" and "I found a rock yesterday. It was 10 times more captivating than that rubish you call a story" and, finally, "So who is this chick? I don't know anybody by the description of 'a small, dark-haired woman with a strong nose, soft eyes, and clay-mation grin.' Are you making her up?"

Oh, and, of course, my favorite... "gay gaygaygaygaygaygaygaygyagay" (from anonymous).

G'night, y'all. Y'hear?

Some Ground Guidelines

I gotta say, folks. I'm a teeny bit pissed. I'm all for freedom of speech and fully welcome you to say whatever the hell you feel like. But I really wish you'd keep it in the realm of full sentences and comments with at least a modicum of thought behind them.

Of course, you don't have to. It's entirely reasonable to remain anonymous, write inane word repititions, and drop the level of public discourse to 2nd grade. I just wish you wouldn't.

My story.

So a while ago I began writing a new young adult's story. I've been thinking that I need a way to push myself into working on the story I've been writing. As such I've decided to try the Dickensian route of offering installments of it. This means, for all you lucky folks out there who probably don't give a crap about this story, that you have the personal opportunity to read what is probably a bunch of rubish.

Excited yet? I am. I honestly have enjoyed writing this thing so far. Plus, it's a children's story, so it is by nature supposed to be pretty easy to read.

Anyway, here are a few links.

First, the main story page itself.

Second, a link to some credits and possibly made up legal info.

Next, a link to the Prelude.

Finally, a link to the first chapter. I warn you, if you go to the main page, all three of these things will be in backwards order, as is the nature of blog internet posting.

The Running Wolves and the Fightin' Betzens

I think two more sports teams should be added. The Fightin' Betzens and the Running Wolves. They could meet in a yearly match-up of lethargy and lugubriousness. All the fans would come, be bored, eat hotdogs for a few hours, then go home wondering what just happened.

It'd be awesome.

Grammar League

Most recent pet peeve: grammar mistakes on message boards. I am speaking of two mistakes specifically.

First, "should of." This one is more common, though irritates me less. Example: "we should of got the win!"

Screw you, you sumbitch!!! "We should've gotten the win." Also acceptable, "We should have gotten the win."

Second, "are." This is less common, but so painful to read that I grind my teeth every time I see it. Example: "Have you seen are offense? Are offense is lousy. We need to be more forceful with are offense."

AHHCHCHD HA;GHASG ASDHFL;A SDH;FLdfAK HGPO AIBANOP DFAOINR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Is anyone else feeling me on this one? Does anyone else want to start screaming "OUR... OUR OFFENSE!"?

In fact I propose beginning an official group known as the Grammar League. This will be a group dedicated to correcting specific errors. Typing accidents, like using the word "the" instead of "to" will be allowed to slide. Common spelling errors that do not change word meaning will be forgiven, like "lrod" instead of "lord."

What will not be forgiven is the mangling of a word to the point that it is another word, as with "are" and "of." Other examples of this may be "guest" instead of "guessed" or "parody" instead of "parity."

If anyone would like to join my secret force of grammar police, just leave a comment to that effect.

Also, if you are in my Grammar League, it will be up to you whether you want to correct "there, they're, and their," "whether and weather," "it's and its" "affect and effect" "farther and further" and "accept and except." These kinds of mistakes are so frequent that I believe everyone knows the actual rules, but are simply too busy to care. Thus correction is a personal choice.

Lastly, a vote will be taken each year about lie, lay, lain, and laid. I am of the personal opinion that it is impossible to know exactly which is the correct form to use in each instance, but I think people should have a say.

Long live the GL!!

The fictions in our head

I think it's possible that the last 20 minutes of the christmas special of The Office, made by those crazy brits across the sea, are the best 20 minutes of television ever written.

Of course, in order for them to really do their job, you have to slog through the rest of it, but that isn't too bad.

But, back to the main point, I don't know if I have ever felt more joyful and hopeful than I did when I saw Dawn walk back in. If you've seen it, I think you'll know exactly what I mean. It's amazing. It's that affirmation of life that so many priests try to explain every sunday, but never quite manage. It is the pure, unadulterated joy of knowing that, once you get past all of the horribleness and anger and frustration and pain and fear of loneliness, out there is a moment of wonder and relief that makes everything else worth it.

Of course, this is television. That kind of thing doesn't happen in real life. I doubt I will ever experience it. To quote Shakespeare "Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." But that doesn't mean I can't dream about it.

You know, I don't remember where I heard this, but I once caught the argument for Santa Clause. Specifically, the question was why do we lie to our children about things like Santa Clause and elves and fairies and magic. The answer was perfect. We lie about those things to teach children about the bigger lie of truth, liberty, justice, and morality. In reality, all of those things are just fictions in our head. They are stories we place upon events so that the world makes sense. But can you imagine a world without them?

I don't ever want to.

And so, if we're going to believe in truth, liberty, justice, morality, and all those other things, why shouldn't we believe in love and a happy ending as well?

I'll probably re-post this on Valentine's Day, but I wanted to talk about it now, while it was still fresh in my head.

Oh, one other thing. I once got a girl a box of chocolates on valentine's day, because she didn't have a boyfriend at the time, and I thought she deserved one. Even if it isn't me, I think she still does. Boy, can she dance.

A true weblog of the days events

Warning, somewhat gross male humor/ adult content ahead...

Oh yeah! Also, I wanted to talk about the trials and tribulations of tonight. The following is a minute by minute, hour by hour description of my day starting the moment the UPS guy got there.

So I got my new hard drive at about 4PM.

4:00 PM:

Hell yeah! Booyah, baby! Who wants some of this? It's large, it's in charge, and it's rock hard! And I am certainly not referring to the hard drive!

4:25 PM:

Holy crap. I sure got that screwed into my computer fast and efficiently, using my powerful left forearm muscle. Good thing I've had so much practice. - smiles at nearby Kleenex of love

4:30:

I have to format the new drive? OK.

4:55

Wow! That took a while! But now the heavenly installation begins!

5:05

Bad file? WTF!

5:06

It has to format again! Damned!

5:31

ok.... maybe this time it'll work.

5:41

Cool. This time there was no problem with that file.

5:45

BAD FILE! What the shit! - knocks over a full cup of diet soda and burns the kleenex of love in a made rage of frustrated hatred - What the hell is wrong with this CD?

6:45

Formatting my new, huge-ass hard drive sucks my Hairy ball sack. What the shit do I do now?

7:30

Wait a minute! What if I just make a copy of the faulty disk onto a new, pretty disk! Maybe my idiot box will think there is a huge difference!

7:45

Ok, I have a new disk.

8:00

It worked! It worked! - grabs 25 new Kleenexes of love in anticipation - What? I have to install and update Windows XP now?

9:00

Service Pack II?! Suck my balls, SPII!

10:30

Updating windows sucks. I'm tired now and haven't had a chance to do anything I want to do. What time is it? Holy shit! I haven't eaten in 10 hours!

10:31

Actually, that's kinda neat. I'm not that hungry.

10:32

Wait. Maybe I am hungry.

10:33

Screw that. I'm on a diet. This is awesome. Now what should I do? - rubs chin in contemplation, while eyeing certain nearby items

...


2:30 AM

Well, that was fun. Maybe I'll check my email and post in my blog now.

3:27

So here we are. You know what? I think it's been a good day.

Trogdor! The Burninator!

Happy belated Trogdor Day, everyone!

I have wonderful and exciting news. After much heartache and misery, I have fixed my computer!!!! Now I just have to figure out how to get all the pictures I've taken over the past 6 months back. I guess, to start, any chance you've got those pictures I sent you, Katie? After that, I think I'm going to see if it is at all possible to actually repair hard drives.

That'll be interesting.

Alright, so many things have happened over the last little while. Nothing interesting though. I still don't have a job. I'm still uncertain exactly where my law school future will take me. My transcript from Montana St still hasn't reached the LSAC and neither have any of my letters of recommendation. Luckily, I have quite a bit of time before I need to start worrying about that.

I'm in the mood to tell an amusing anecdote, but one isn't leaping to mind. Instead I will suggest a plan...

Sometime, become friends with a person who has a motorcycle helmet. Persuade this person to let you borrow it. Then carry it with you in your passenger seat. Next, be first to the red light at a multi-lane intersection. Then put on the motorcycle helmet and roll down your tinted window and stare at the person in the car over. When they look at you, nod and rev your engine.

Then, right before the light turns green, hold up a big sign that says "Grannies are my business!" and drive away slowly.

Oh, and if you are trying to get a babe, hold up this alternate sign "I'm an alien. Wanna' swing on my appendage?"

It's guaranteed to work everytime.

Ok, last thing, sorry I didn't write about the need for porno backing up, but all are certainly welcome to join me in any future porn festivities. I'm planning on calling the staffing agency tomorrow. Maybe I'll have more news tomorrow night.

Temporary Down Time

Hi folks, my loyal readers may have noted a lack of writing on my part. This is mostly due to a lack of computer, also on my part. That's right, the wonderful laptop that I have cherished through thick and thin for the past 2 1/2 years now has a faulty hard drive. This means I'm going to have to wait until the new one shows up and I get everything back on track before I will really be regular on this site.

I imagine the wait shall be about 4 days. So check back on Thursday for a rousing speech on nudity and why pornography should always be backed up on multiple hard drives.

In the mean time, I would advise call Kay up for random phone sex chats. Those are guaranteed to keep anyone entertained.

Karaoke

I just realized I haven't written a HTGBWET in a while. So, in honor of a friend of mine who I'm currently chatting with online, here is my rule of the day....

If you happen to be at a bar with karaoke and you realize you like a girl and actually may have for a while, total unbeknownst to yourself, attempt to woo her by getting up in front of everyone with the mic and becoming an accomplished singer for about 3 minutes and fifty seconds.

When you come down, after being showered with praise, act like it was no big whoop.

Hi. Don't mind me. I'm just trying to give myself an internet face.

A job?

Alright, everyone. Wish me luck. In the morning I'm going to try to get a job. And if you don't wish me luck, I promise that I will hunt you all down using various implements of you-know-what-that's-probably-illegal-in-12-states-but-not-any- more-because-it-was-struck-down-by- the-supreme-court-a-while-back-due-to- privacy-laws.

Um. Yeah. So like I said, wish me luck. My plan is to go to a staffing agency. It won't be work I'm suited for. It won't be work I'm interested in. But by god it'll be work.

Sky, Blue and Black by Jackson Browne is a great song. It took me a while to make this decision, but now I stand by it.

So I watch this movie...

So I tried to go to sleep a while ago, but then realized I hadn't written a post for this stupid blog. Then I decided I could wait until tomorrow. Then, after a while, I realized that I was incorrect.

So here we are.

Tonight I'd like to talk about the movie Just Friends, which is one of those films that is not good itself, but makes you realize a few things. And, therefore, has a few redeeming qualities. Also, the slapstick humor is pretty good.

Needless to say, being a guy almost imfamously stuck in the friend zone, I identified with this movie. How many times have I been compared to a brother or a great friend and nothing more? I have no idea. I'd say about 3 times. Wait. 4. Maybe 5.

I'll go back to I have no idea.

So I watch this movie. I see the main character guy singing "I Swear" in his bedroom mirror, and I am shocked to remember something painfully similar from about 2 and 1/2 years ago. I hear about flowers on valentine's day. I witness close confessions and expressions of eternal friendship, and I am horrified to understand and connect with every single one.

I don't have a brother, though, so I don't identify with that part of the movie.

Anyway, I watch this movie. And I realize how stupid - and funny - it all is. Why have I spent so much of my time caught up one someone who simply isn't caught up on me? I mean, my God, MOVE ON buddy. Be friends if you want to be friends, but don't freaking torture yourself about something so ridiculous as a girl who obviously doesn't get it or isn't interested.

So I watch this movie. And, at the end, I feel a little more free. I feel like whatever rock I've been trapped under might have evaporated a little bit. Suddenly things look different. Not a lot different. Just a teeny bit.

Also, it's nice to think that maybe I can be thin by the time I turn 28-ish. Stranger things have happened, and I still have 3 years.

p.s. this may be a poorly written post, but it's past 4am, I'm tired, and I think I said what I needed to say.

risque?

As often seems the case in my strange little world of blog make-believe, I feel like writing something, but I have nothing to write about. I want to be edgy, but not too edgy.

For example, there's no way I'd write about the morals of accidentally popping your load while a stripper gives you a lap dance. No way in hell would I talk about that. Far too risque.

So what should I talk about? I could talk about my freaking cold. I'm now in day 3 or 4 of this bastard, and I've grown to hate it. At first I thought it wouldn't be anything bad. A little sore throat never hurt anybody. But it has grown into this evil monster, attacking my sinuses from every direction, leaving me feeling weak and empty.

I am going to use a humidifier in my room tonight in hopes that I'll wake up with slightly less chapped lips due to cold infection. I'll let you know how that goes. Otherwise, I'm using no medicine. My theory is that it is unnecessary. Cold medicines don't cure colds, they just reduce the symptoms. Since I'm not exactly doing anything all day, that seems pointless.

In other news, I'm getting that terrible feeling of aloneness when no one has called me over a certain period of time and I become afraid that all of my friends no longer care about me, and all of those many girls - you know, the ones who I wanna accidentally be locked in the back of a volkswagen with - may be ignoring me.

Except Kay, of course. If Kay ever started to ignore me, I'd probably get rough. Leather whips and chains would be all over the place. In later days, the word "rambunctious" would be used to to describe the event.

If you can't tell, I really need to get a job pretty soon, so I can get over my ridiculous boredom.

Alright, I think I've written enough for now. For today's HTGBWET, I'll say simply this: Get locked in the back of a volkswagen! For all intents and purposes, you're already doing a lot of very intimate things at that point.

PR TV

So tonight I watched the Texas-USC game at PR's house, and I have to admit. He really does have a gigantic screen. If you have a basement with no windows that you want to turn into a home theater, I recommend using a projector. It is very cool.

Also, I don't know about anyone else, but I was rooting for Texas tonight for two reasons. I dislike the amount of disrespect for the Big 12 coming from every other region, and I don't like the way USC kept being called gods among men.

That said, g'night all. My door will be open from 3 to 5 tomorrow for walk-in sessions of spankings and oral sex. Seating is limited.

No worries!

It has come to my attention that I update this blog too often. For those of you concerned about this (Kay), I say, don't worry. Feel free to leave comments wherever you like. As long as I don't have to go into the archives to find you, I'm sure I'll read it, for the same reason I can make so many blog entries.

Namely, I'm bored with nothing to do.

Beyond that, I can make no promises. I write entries when I'm so completely bored that I need to reach out to others. As this happens at least once a day, you're likely to see quite a bit of me.

Um, not much else to say today. I have a cold, a sore throat, stuffy ears, and general congestion. And I started my diet. When I stay at home, it's actually pretty easy to maintain. It's when I've gone to a restaurant that I have problems.

Jan 3, 2006

 
 

Diet? ME?!

My mom has convinced me to start a weight watchers diet. She's been doing the atkin's thing for about 4 months and has lost quite a bit of weight. I have steadfastly pointed out that I would never have the ability to stay on that kind of diet. I simply can't stomach a lack of bread.

So, in an attempt to at least be a diet support for her, I've agreed to the weight watchers diet. This way we can push each other on and work toward a better, awesomer you. I mean, me and her.

I have to admit to some mild curiousity about this plan. Since any friends that I have around rarely go out, it is highly feasible that I could actually stay on this one for quite some time.

As such, I think I'm going to document for all of my faithful readers my progress. Most people usually use a standing picture, so that after 3 months they can suck in their guts and smile. I plan to use a sitting picture that does not include much of my face. This way you can't tell if I'm smiling.

If this works, bully for me. If not, I don't exactly have the highest expectations anyway, but the camera work should be interesting.

And for all you ardent HTGBWET fans out there, Rule #452: don't get thinner. Be thinner already.

P.S. 'cause here at Weight watchers, the future is... you.... probably.