Hello Folks,
It's been a while.
I'm writing an essay right now, and as such have no time for a witty, profound, insightful, or otherwise useful blog post. Hell, I don't even have time for an amusing one.
That said, I really hate motorcyclists. Each time one uses the absurd "lane splitting" law in California to buzz past my car, I feel like opening my door and watching him create a bloody cartwheel upon the asphalt. Each time one figures it's wise to hang in my blind spot, I quite feel like changing lanes suddenly and providing the bastard with a sudden opportunity to do a mid-air trick.
I hate motorcyclists.
I also hate bicyclists, but that's a rant for another time.
Stay classy, world.
Best,
Elliott
Monday, May 17, 2010
Saturday, January 2, 2010
A Quick Clarkson Quote
Just a quick snippet today.
"In our headlong rush to see what can be done, we seem to have lost sight of whether we actually need these things or not. Digital cameras, for instance, are extremely handy but one day, when your laptop crashes — and it will — every single picture you ever took will be lost. That didn’t happen when you had to go to Boots. Unless you had a very bad house fire."
-Jeremy Clarkson
Heed his words everyone. Just because it's tech, doesn't mean it's better, more useful, or more necessary.
Take care of yourselves everyone, and think a bit in this big, scary new decade.
Best,
E.Y.H.
"In our headlong rush to see what can be done, we seem to have lost sight of whether we actually need these things or not. Digital cameras, for instance, are extremely handy but one day, when your laptop crashes — and it will — every single picture you ever took will be lost. That didn’t happen when you had to go to Boots. Unless you had a very bad house fire."
-Jeremy Clarkson
Heed his words everyone. Just because it's tech, doesn't mean it's better, more useful, or more necessary.
Take care of yourselves everyone, and think a bit in this big, scary new decade.
Best,
E.Y.H.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Things That Anger Me
Song of the Day: We Gonna Rock It (S.U.N.) feat. Zeebra and NOB - DJ Benkei
So again, a picture-less blog post, facilitated by my lazy nature, and a lack of desire to hunt things down.
Anyway, been a while folks. I went on an update-less streak there for a while, and now I'm back. Make of that what you will.
Today is list time. I'm just going to make a list of things that irritate me strongly ranked in terms of how pissed off they make me (top to bottom), make of them what you will.
Behold, my irrational rage:
1. People that smack their lips while they chew.
2. Arrogance, ESPECIALLY liberal arrogance.
3. Hipsters.
4. Cars parked over the damn parking lines (I take special pains to swing my driver's side door ESPECIALLY hard into these assholes).
5. Twilight.
6. Jerking.
7. Bandwagoners.
8. Honda Civics. The bad FAR outnumber the good.
9. Souljah Boy. Yes, he gets a special, SPECIFIC mention.
10. Overly skinny jeans (does this tie in to number 6?).
11. The iPhone.
12. Anyone that wears a beret in America, unless they're military.
13. Sagging jeans.
14. Ripped jeans.
15. Overpriced jeans.
16. People that aren't in the military wearing dogtags.
17. Natty Ice.
18. Guidos.
19. Religious nutjobs.
20. Extreme immaturity (a little bit is encouraged; an excess is stupid).
21. Parents that overly spoil their children.
22. Skunks.
23. Hardboiled eggs.
24. Mercedes Benz build quality.
25. MSNBC.
That's it for today all; I promise I'll try to update more often!
Best,
E.Y.H.
So again, a picture-less blog post, facilitated by my lazy nature, and a lack of desire to hunt things down.
Anyway, been a while folks. I went on an update-less streak there for a while, and now I'm back. Make of that what you will.
Today is list time. I'm just going to make a list of things that irritate me strongly ranked in terms of how pissed off they make me (top to bottom), make of them what you will.
Behold, my irrational rage:
1. People that smack their lips while they chew.
2. Arrogance, ESPECIALLY liberal arrogance.
3. Hipsters.
4. Cars parked over the damn parking lines (I take special pains to swing my driver's side door ESPECIALLY hard into these assholes).
5. Twilight.
6. Jerking.
7. Bandwagoners.
8. Honda Civics. The bad FAR outnumber the good.
9. Souljah Boy. Yes, he gets a special, SPECIFIC mention.
10. Overly skinny jeans (does this tie in to number 6?).
11. The iPhone.
12. Anyone that wears a beret in America, unless they're military.
13. Sagging jeans.
14. Ripped jeans.
15. Overpriced jeans.
16. People that aren't in the military wearing dogtags.
17. Natty Ice.
18. Guidos.
19. Religious nutjobs.
20. Extreme immaturity (a little bit is encouraged; an excess is stupid).
21. Parents that overly spoil their children.
22. Skunks.
23. Hardboiled eggs.
24. Mercedes Benz build quality.
25. MSNBC.
That's it for today all; I promise I'll try to update more often!
Best,
E.Y.H.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Car Talk: 2009 Nissan GT-R
Today dear readers, I'd like to take a quick break from my usual shenanigans and describe to you my car experience last night. There will be no pictures, because no amount of silly pictures can convey the moment to you properly. Well, here goes the earthshaking moment:
I had a ride-along in the Nissan GT-R.
No, I didn't get any time behind the wheel at all. No, it didn't go all out for top speed. Yes, it was weighed down by three passengers in addition to the driver. By God though, it was fast.
I'm not talking car-fast. I'm not even talking bullet-train fast. This was holy-shitballs-no-words-can-describe-this fast. 0-60, so far as I can figure it with four people in the car, was gone in four seconds or less. The brakes went from 60-0 in an equally amazing time; forgive me for not timing it, my head was busy trying to figure out how NOT to go through the front window. It was pulling 0.5 g's (according to the handy g-meter in the dash display) through a few twisties, and I didn't feel a thing. Pull 0.5 in my S14, and you're kicking the tail out already; the GT-R felt 100% planted and secure.
Upon leaving the car, myself and my fellow passengers had quite literally run out of words. We only agreed upon stepping out that our own personal cars would never be quite as satisfying again. There aren't words to describe the speed, the finesse, the engineering put into this car. It's simply one of those things you must experience yourself to understand; I can't describe it to you properly.
After all this praise then, you'd figure I'd go out and give it ten stars out of five, right? Wrong.
On one hand, yes, it's staggeringly fast. On the other though, I have to be honest, it's tied for the most sheer balls-to-the-wall entertainment I've had in a car with...
... a MR2 Spyder.
Oh, you laugh now. A few hundred horsepower gap, nearly $80,000 worth of price difference, these two cars aren't even in the same LEAGUE. Hell, the GT-R's even more practical (if you can call a supercar practical) in many ways; the owner informed me he'd carried a small Christmas tree about in the trunk a few days prior, and I'll be damned if there's any way to squeeze such a thing into an MR-S. Nevertheless though, for driving pleasure, I'd have to say I'd take the Mister Two. Why?
Simple. I'd be too terrified to drive the GT-R daily. Yes, 0-60 in Negative 3 milliseconds is all well and good, but despite the 26 mpg, I can't possibly believe that sort of power earns good mileage. In today's economy then, that's a bit impractical. The cash flowing out of my pocket would be rather terrifying into and unto itself. Then, there's the sheer terror of that much power. Despite the ten thousand electronic systems designed to make sure you don't die in a spinning Koenigsegg-inspired ball of fire and expensive sheet metal, I have every confidence that somehow I'd find a way to do so in a car of that magnitude. You can put every safety system you want on an ICBM, and it's still a nuclear bomb at the end of the day; push the wrong button, and Hiroshima's toast.
Then again, the same can be said about Godzilla, and who wouldn't sell their left nut to ride Godzilla?
However, drive Mister Two (or a Miata, for that matter), and you won't have that scary power. You won't figure you're about to head off the road backwards at 180 mph, because the car simply can't do that. Neither will you win stoplight battles with the good old GT-R, but that's okay; when it's just you and road, you won't care. The GT-R is perfection in automotive form, yes, but for someone as simple and under-skilled as myself, it's merely a ticket to a fiery pinwheeling ball of death with a Nissan badge. The Spyder, on the other hand, is a simple, joyful expression of the old school sports-car mentality of simple is better. Just you, a mid-engined RWD convertible, a single clutch transmission, and the road. For someone as dull as me then, that's all I need.
It is then, with a bit of sadness, I can "only" award the GT-R six out of five 92507 Car-Stars, because sometimes perfection just isn't enough.
92507 Car Rating: 6 out of 5
Because it simply couldn't earn that 10 out of 5.
I had a ride-along in the Nissan GT-R.
No, I didn't get any time behind the wheel at all. No, it didn't go all out for top speed. Yes, it was weighed down by three passengers in addition to the driver. By God though, it was fast.
I'm not talking car-fast. I'm not even talking bullet-train fast. This was holy-shitballs-no-words-can-describe-this fast. 0-60, so far as I can figure it with four people in the car, was gone in four seconds or less. The brakes went from 60-0 in an equally amazing time; forgive me for not timing it, my head was busy trying to figure out how NOT to go through the front window. It was pulling 0.5 g's (according to the handy g-meter in the dash display) through a few twisties, and I didn't feel a thing. Pull 0.5 in my S14, and you're kicking the tail out already; the GT-R felt 100% planted and secure.
Upon leaving the car, myself and my fellow passengers had quite literally run out of words. We only agreed upon stepping out that our own personal cars would never be quite as satisfying again. There aren't words to describe the speed, the finesse, the engineering put into this car. It's simply one of those things you must experience yourself to understand; I can't describe it to you properly.
After all this praise then, you'd figure I'd go out and give it ten stars out of five, right? Wrong.
On one hand, yes, it's staggeringly fast. On the other though, I have to be honest, it's tied for the most sheer balls-to-the-wall entertainment I've had in a car with...
... a MR2 Spyder.
Oh, you laugh now. A few hundred horsepower gap, nearly $80,000 worth of price difference, these two cars aren't even in the same LEAGUE. Hell, the GT-R's even more practical (if you can call a supercar practical) in many ways; the owner informed me he'd carried a small Christmas tree about in the trunk a few days prior, and I'll be damned if there's any way to squeeze such a thing into an MR-S. Nevertheless though, for driving pleasure, I'd have to say I'd take the Mister Two. Why?
Simple. I'd be too terrified to drive the GT-R daily. Yes, 0-60 in Negative 3 milliseconds is all well and good, but despite the 26 mpg, I can't possibly believe that sort of power earns good mileage. In today's economy then, that's a bit impractical. The cash flowing out of my pocket would be rather terrifying into and unto itself. Then, there's the sheer terror of that much power. Despite the ten thousand electronic systems designed to make sure you don't die in a spinning Koenigsegg-inspired ball of fire and expensive sheet metal, I have every confidence that somehow I'd find a way to do so in a car of that magnitude. You can put every safety system you want on an ICBM, and it's still a nuclear bomb at the end of the day; push the wrong button, and Hiroshima's toast.
Then again, the same can be said about Godzilla, and who wouldn't sell their left nut to ride Godzilla?
However, drive Mister Two (or a Miata, for that matter), and you won't have that scary power. You won't figure you're about to head off the road backwards at 180 mph, because the car simply can't do that. Neither will you win stoplight battles with the good old GT-R, but that's okay; when it's just you and road, you won't care. The GT-R is perfection in automotive form, yes, but for someone as simple and under-skilled as myself, it's merely a ticket to a fiery pinwheeling ball of death with a Nissan badge. The Spyder, on the other hand, is a simple, joyful expression of the old school sports-car mentality of simple is better. Just you, a mid-engined RWD convertible, a single clutch transmission, and the road. For someone as dull as me then, that's all I need.
It is then, with a bit of sadness, I can "only" award the GT-R six out of five 92507 Car-Stars, because sometimes perfection just isn't enough.
92507 Car Rating: 6 out of 5
Because it simply couldn't earn that 10 out of 5.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Things I Hate: Followers
Song of the Day: Mac Mac - The Bloody Beetroots
Welcome to the first of a number of hate-filled, grumpy, grouchy, angry, and generally unpleasant rants I have titled "Things I Hate." Today's topic: followers.
Now, to some degree, everyone's a follower. That's cool. Hell, I'm a follower in many aspects. The problem is though, when you start following for the sake of your outward appearances to others, as opposed to for your own personal grins and giggles.
AH HA, YOU THOUGHT THERE WOULD BE AN IMAGE HERE DEPICTING GRINS AND GIGGLES, BUT THERE WASN'T. SO MUCH FOR PREDICTABILITY SUCKERS~
Moving on...
There's a lot of examples of this in college; hell, I think some of them are pretty cool myself. Thing is though, cool as I might think they are, they're NOT FOR ME. That concept of something not being "for you," so to speak, is pretty foreign to a lot of college kids these days. Because I'm a bit lazy tonight, have finals to study for, and have to get back to the 92507 from home ASAP, here's a short list of things that run-of-the-mill followers embrace that may not necessarily be "for them," and why they MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU:
-Fixed Gear Bikes: Are you a bike messenger? No? Does your institution of learning have lots and lots of hills? Yes? Do you really need to drop over $500 on your goddamn bicycle? No? Fixed gear bikes MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Nut Hugging Jeans: Do you have a penis? Yes? Nut huggers MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Unnecessarily Long Hair: Are you a man? Yes? Do you want to get a job that pays above the poverty line? Yes? Is this the 1960's/70's? No? Disgusting hippie hair/scenester hair MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Graffiti/Tagging in General: Did you grow up in an inner city neighborhood? No? Are you a member of a legitimate street gang from such a neighborhood? No? Are you an art major? No? Were you raised in suburbia? Yes? Tagging MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Acoustic Guitars: Are you a musician by trade? No? Did you do this just to get girls? Yes? Did you do this to fit in with your ugly hipster friends? Yes? Were you inspired by any of the thousands of half-assed acts on YouTube? Yes? Acoustic guitars MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Ugly Neon Sunglasses/Shutter Shades: Do you have self respect? Yes? Do you value people taking you seriously? Yes? Stupid sunglasses MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Mirror pics: Are you an obnoxious self-absorbed immature puerile douchebag? Yes? Congrats, mirror pics ARE FOR YOU!
-Being European: Are you European? No? Being European SURE AS HELL ISN'T FOR YOU, YOU PRICK. GET OVER YOURSELF.
-Smoking (cigs, weed, hookah, whatever): Do you value your lungs? Yes? Smoking MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Dressing like a member of NWA: Are you from a gang-ridden neighborhood? No? Dressing like a thug MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
Whew, okay that's about it, sorry about the short post length/lack of pics everyone. I'll try to put up pics later (no promises), so enjoy my miserly ranting folks, and have a happy holiday season!
Best,
E.Y.H.
Welcome to the first of a number of hate-filled, grumpy, grouchy, angry, and generally unpleasant rants I have titled "Things I Hate." Today's topic: followers.
Now, to some degree, everyone's a follower. That's cool. Hell, I'm a follower in many aspects. The problem is though, when you start following for the sake of your outward appearances to others, as opposed to for your own personal grins and giggles.
AH HA, YOU THOUGHT THERE WOULD BE AN IMAGE HERE DEPICTING GRINS AND GIGGLES, BUT THERE WASN'T. SO MUCH FOR PREDICTABILITY SUCKERS~
Moving on...
There's a lot of examples of this in college; hell, I think some of them are pretty cool myself. Thing is though, cool as I might think they are, they're NOT FOR ME. That concept of something not being "for you," so to speak, is pretty foreign to a lot of college kids these days. Because I'm a bit lazy tonight, have finals to study for, and have to get back to the 92507 from home ASAP, here's a short list of things that run-of-the-mill followers embrace that may not necessarily be "for them," and why they MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU:
-Fixed Gear Bikes: Are you a bike messenger? No? Does your institution of learning have lots and lots of hills? Yes? Do you really need to drop over $500 on your goddamn bicycle? No? Fixed gear bikes MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Nut Hugging Jeans: Do you have a penis? Yes? Nut huggers MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Unnecessarily Long Hair: Are you a man? Yes? Do you want to get a job that pays above the poverty line? Yes? Is this the 1960's/70's? No? Disgusting hippie hair/scenester hair MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Graffiti/Tagging in General: Did you grow up in an inner city neighborhood? No? Are you a member of a legitimate street gang from such a neighborhood? No? Are you an art major? No? Were you raised in suburbia? Yes? Tagging MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Acoustic Guitars: Are you a musician by trade? No? Did you do this just to get girls? Yes? Did you do this to fit in with your ugly hipster friends? Yes? Were you inspired by any of the thousands of half-assed acts on YouTube? Yes? Acoustic guitars MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Ugly Neon Sunglasses/Shutter Shades: Do you have self respect? Yes? Do you value people taking you seriously? Yes? Stupid sunglasses MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Mirror pics: Are you an obnoxious self-absorbed immature puerile douchebag? Yes? Congrats, mirror pics ARE FOR YOU!
-Being European: Are you European? No? Being European SURE AS HELL ISN'T FOR YOU, YOU PRICK. GET OVER YOURSELF.
-Smoking (cigs, weed, hookah, whatever): Do you value your lungs? Yes? Smoking MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
-Dressing like a member of NWA: Are you from a gang-ridden neighborhood? No? Dressing like a thug MIGHT NOT BE FOR YOU.
Whew, okay that's about it, sorry about the short post length/lack of pics everyone. I'll try to put up pics later (no promises), so enjoy my miserly ranting folks, and have a happy holiday season!
Best,
E.Y.H.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Omegle Trolling
In lieu of a real post filled with thought provoking banter, I'll take this break from midterms to show you some of my recent Omegle trolling. In case you didn't know, Omegle is an anonymous chat service with strangers, which allows for quite a lot of anonymous trolling in the interests of grins and giggles.
Grins and giggles.
Without further ado, I present to you my latest Omegle trolls (warning: not even slightly politically correct):
TROLL ATTEMPT #1:
Grins and giggles.Without further ado, I present to you my latest Omegle trolls (warning: not even slightly politically correct):
TROLL ATTEMPT #1:
Connecting to server...
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You: hello there!
Stranger: Hello.
You: hows life?
Stranger: Grand. And yours?
You: awesome
You: probably grander than yours.
You: but i'm not entirely sure.
Stranger: I wouldn't bet on it.
You: why's that?
You: i put a kitten in a box today, and threw it in a river.
You: the box was plastic
You: and had no air holes.
You: that's pretty grand, i think.
Stranger: More nifty than grand.
You: so what qualifies as grand?
You: would it need to be a full-grown cat next time?
Stranger: I'm not entirely sure. I make it up as I go. No, that's in the 'splendid' area.
Your conversational partner has disconnected.
Commentary: I really don't know what to make of this dude's last response. At least he knows that cat murder is indeed splendid.
Troll Attempt #2:
Your conversational partner has disconnected.
Commentary: Didn't go as I planned, but that's ok.
Troll Attempt #3:
Commentary: Somewhere, someone believes he has just heard the last words of a political dissident in China.
Troll Attempt #4:
You have disconnected.
Commentary: He probably didn't see that shift in linguistic ability coming, nor did he see the shift in ideological perspective. Entertaining, that.
Okay with that, I really should get back to studying. Go do some trolling of your own, folks; I bid you all good night!
Best,
E.Y.H.
Your conversational partner has disconnected.
Commentary: I really don't know what to make of this dude's last response. At least he knows that cat murder is indeed splendid.
Troll Attempt #2:
Stranger: 15 female aus
You: You must help me.
You: Good.
Stranger: why whats wrong
You: You are from Australia.
You: I am from New Caledonia.
You: Have you a plane?
You: The soldiers are coming.
Stranger: Yes i have my own jet plane, im famous in australia, why?
You: And we must flee.
You: We must flee now.
You: There is no time.
You: You must call my number immediately.
You: 09-8209-0342
You: It will connect you to the village phone.
You: Let it ring twice, then please call it again.
You: On the second try a man will pick up.
Stranger: it wont connect
You: His name is Jacques.
You: You must try harder.
Stranger: i dont know the numbers for americas code
You: If you do not my village will perish.
You: I am not from America.
You: I am from New Caledonia.
Stranger: well wherever you live
You: We are an island.
You: I do not know so much English.
You: Only what the priest has taught me.
You: You must hurry.
Commentary: Didn't go as I planned, but that's ok.
Troll Attempt #3:
You: Hello I am Zhong He.
You: Are you man or woman?
Stranger: hi
Stranger: man
You: I am man as well.
You: It is good.
Stranger: cool
You: There are many woman on this site.
You: They all do not talk to Zhong He.
Stranger: im not sure
You: I am from China.
You: Where are you from.
Stranger: thats cool
Stranger: the usa
You: Do the women talk to you.
Stranger: no not really
You: I do not think they like China people.
You: It is a problem.
You: I share your pain.
Stranger: yea well thanks
You: I wish you well friend.
You: This is last talk for me.
Stranger: you too
You: Before police come.
Stranger: alright
Stranger: oh boy well
Stranger: have fun in prison
You: For accessing internet site that government does not allow
You: I have been told I will go to jail.
You: But I have locked my door.
Stranger: well good
You: They are hitting it right now.
You: Do you think I will live.
Stranger: ill talk you throught this
Stranger: yes
Stranger: you will live
You: In China sometimes you do not live when the goverment hits you door.
You: Sometimes you will never see family again.
Stranger: wow im sorry man
You: They have entered.
Stranger: say goodbye quick
You have disconnected.
Commentary: Somewhere, someone believes he has just heard the last words of a political dissident in China.
Troll Attempt #4:
You: 21/m/alabama
Stranger: i cannot believe my eyes, how worlds filled with filth and lies, and its plain to see, evil inside of me, is on the riseeeee
You: how bout yall.
You: ah.
You: yall one of them deviant faggots aint you.
Stranger: a deviant
Stranger: big word from a hick from the south
You: yall think we marry our cousins or something?
Stranger: got the grammar just right too
Stranger: u definitely talk like a dumbass
Stranger: impressive
Stranger: ur meeting every strereotype so far
You: I would appreciate it, sir, if you did not look down upon the stereotypes attributed to the common working classes.
You: The work of the proletariat holds that which you hold dear
You: upright.
Stranger: common working classes eh?
You: We, the working man, maintain the standards of life that your bourgeoise selves hold to be a God-given right.
Stranger: dem sounds like commie words to me
Stranger: u aint a red is ya?
You: Sir, I would appreciate it if you did not confuse the words of a socialist with those of a communist.
Stranger: haha hot damn, a socialist in the south, now ive heard everything
You: We hold short shrift with the cruel and inhumane tactics that the Communists find acceptable.
You: Perhaps you do not travel enough sir.
You: One's geographical location need not determine his ideals.
You: Have you considered, kind sir, that it is perhaps YOU that are the bigot?
Stranger: quite happily
You: Looking down upon those from disadvantaged areas from your ivory throne?
Stranger: more or less
Stranger: view gets kinda bad from the top
You: Sir I bid you adieu, your very presence upon the network of information that is the internet offends me to no end.
Commentary: He probably didn't see that shift in linguistic ability coming, nor did he see the shift in ideological perspective. Entertaining, that.
Okay with that, I really should get back to studying. Go do some trolling of your own, folks; I bid you all good night!
Best,
E.Y.H.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Stream of Consciousness
SONG OF THE DAY: Say Woah- A-Trak
Good evening folks,
Due to the fact that I have nothing to rant on- besides hipsters, but that rant is for another day- I'm going to experiment with the formatting today, and try a stream of consciousness blog. Everything I think about for the next few minutes while procrastinating on my sociology (still a bunk class) paper will be recorded. Naturally, images will be added after the process has completed, so as to give you grins and giggles.
Grins and giggles.
Ready...
GO.
This Starbucks Doubleshot isn't really a very powerful energy drink. I mean, sure, I can feel the caffeine hitting me a bit, because everything's in that weird super-contrasted level of existence that only happens when you have a proper amount of stimulants in your blood stream. Sadly though, it's fading; time for another swig of this lovely legal drug. It's like meth, except legal, and not deadly.
I Googled "meth addict," and this was the least offensive image I got. Enjoy!
Ugh that sounded gross; when I took a sip it made this weird FRRRRRT sound. I hope no one thinks I farted, the basement at Rivera Library is damn quiet. Looking around, looking around, nope, no one's looking.
There's an awful weird old dude kinda floating around wearing a baseball hat though, he's creeping me out a bit. I vaguely suspect he's library staff because he's looking at everyone, but... maybe he is, maybe he isn't. I may never know. Speaking of things I might never know about, I kept thinking someone was taking pictures in here, but it's really a lightbulb that's out near the Microform section. That lightbulb should NOT be flickery man, not when we pay tens of thousands of dollars in tuition so Mark Yudof can bathe in our money!
Shut the fuck up, Yudof.
Ahhhhh, Doubleshot really IS the panacea of the gods. It isn't helping my neckache though... I just cracked it like mad. Speaking of which, the eternally stiff neck I've had since my one year of drumline makes it impossible for the health clinic to tell whether or not I may have had/meningitis while I had swine flu; my neck's ALWAYS stiff, so there's no way to tell. Yes, I had swine flu. No, it wasn't as bad as everyone said it was. Anyone that complains about it, says that shit is any more dangerous than regular flu, or otherwise blows it out of proportion can kiss my ass, to be frank. It wasn't that bad.
Pic very much related.
Shoot it's almost 6 PM, and that's when I told myself I was going to start writing for SURE. I've been sitting here for close on 40 minutes now, doing absolutely nothing but checking Facebook, drinking Doubleshot, eating Gobstoppers (which are the best candy ever, just F.Y.I.), and in general being totally unproductive. Shame I can't get JSTOR in my apartment... that's the peril of living off-campus, I suppose.
He didn't use JSTOR. Then again, he's also a fictional character.
Anyway, tonight's shaping up to be a boring Thursday; no partying, no drinking, just a club meeting, then some studying at Starbucks, then perhaps some MW2 at someone else's house, and then perhaps some HON. My life is boring... but hey, work tomorrow ought to cheer things up, right? With that, the belltower has just started chiming six, so the post is now over. Be easy, world.
The UCR Belltower: if only it looked this good in real life.
Best,
Elliott
Good evening folks,
Due to the fact that I have nothing to rant on- besides hipsters, but that rant is for another day- I'm going to experiment with the formatting today, and try a stream of consciousness blog. Everything I think about for the next few minutes while procrastinating on my sociology (still a bunk class) paper will be recorded. Naturally, images will be added after the process has completed, so as to give you grins and giggles.
Grins and giggles.Ready...
GO.
This Starbucks Doubleshot isn't really a very powerful energy drink. I mean, sure, I can feel the caffeine hitting me a bit, because everything's in that weird super-contrasted level of existence that only happens when you have a proper amount of stimulants in your blood stream. Sadly though, it's fading; time for another swig of this lovely legal drug. It's like meth, except legal, and not deadly.
I Googled "meth addict," and this was the least offensive image I got. Enjoy! Ugh that sounded gross; when I took a sip it made this weird FRRRRRT sound. I hope no one thinks I farted, the basement at Rivera Library is damn quiet. Looking around, looking around, nope, no one's looking.
It didn't sound like that.
There's an awful weird old dude kinda floating around wearing a baseball hat though, he's creeping me out a bit. I vaguely suspect he's library staff because he's looking at everyone, but... maybe he is, maybe he isn't. I may never know. Speaking of things I might never know about, I kept thinking someone was taking pictures in here, but it's really a lightbulb that's out near the Microform section. That lightbulb should NOT be flickery man, not when we pay tens of thousands of dollars in tuition so Mark Yudof can bathe in our money!
Shut the fuck up, Yudof.
Ahhhhh, Doubleshot really IS the panacea of the gods. It isn't helping my neckache though... I just cracked it like mad. Speaking of which, the eternally stiff neck I've had since my one year of drumline makes it impossible for the health clinic to tell whether or not I may have had/meningitis while I had swine flu; my neck's ALWAYS stiff, so there's no way to tell. Yes, I had swine flu. No, it wasn't as bad as everyone said it was. Anyone that complains about it, says that shit is any more dangerous than regular flu, or otherwise blows it out of proportion can kiss my ass, to be frank. It wasn't that bad.
Pic very much related.Shoot it's almost 6 PM, and that's when I told myself I was going to start writing for SURE. I've been sitting here for close on 40 minutes now, doing absolutely nothing but checking Facebook, drinking Doubleshot, eating Gobstoppers (which are the best candy ever, just F.Y.I.), and in general being totally unproductive. Shame I can't get JSTOR in my apartment... that's the peril of living off-campus, I suppose.
He didn't use JSTOR. Then again, he's also a fictional character. Anyway, tonight's shaping up to be a boring Thursday; no partying, no drinking, just a club meeting, then some studying at Starbucks, then perhaps some MW2 at someone else's house, and then perhaps some HON. My life is boring... but hey, work tomorrow ought to cheer things up, right? With that, the belltower has just started chiming six, so the post is now over. Be easy, world.
The UCR Belltower: if only it looked this good in real life.Best,
Elliott
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