R.I.P. Orange Park Spaghetti House

In retrospect, I don't know what the hell was going on. 

Yesterday felt so long. It dragged on forever. Which is what I can't make sense of. Usually it's the bad days in life that do the dragging on. The good days are always the ones that leave you feeling gipped as if the earth started spinning a little faster just because you were having some fun.

I'll tell you, though. I wasn't off to a good start yesterday. That's for sure. I can't think of many (if any) times when I've woken up in my car and felt good about it. I was parked in the Kmart parking lot nonetheless. You never want to be in the Kmart parking lot. ANYWHERE except the Kmart parking lot.

I was feeling horrible about what had happened the night before. I'm not a big fan of what alcohol has been doing to me these days. It's bringing out all of the wrong emotions for some reason. 

The little hangy-ball thing in the back of my throat was so swollen and large that I could have sworn that's where all your brain's negative thoughts go to. I'm sorry. That sounded way too - um - hokey. But I'm just saying that the thing was huge. It was so huge that I swear to God I was almost choking on it.

That hangy ball is actually called your uvula. And with enough dehydration, it'll swell. That's what a night of drinking will get you: a swollen uvula.

So like I said, yesterday felt like a long day. It started off badly. To recap: woke up in my car in the Kmart parking lot, I was feeling depressed from the night before, my uvula was choking me because of how god forsakingly swollen it had gotten, I needed to shave - badly, and I had a nagging toothache. I'm sorry. I should have mentioned the toothache earlier.

The whole rest of the day went well. Let's recap: lounging around Jessica's house all day being cute with each other, quesadilla burger at Applebees with friends, and half-off hookahs at the Casbah because it was Monday.

I guess it felt good to have a long day for a change. This Christmas break is going by way too quickly. Every time I look at the date, my heart sinks a little. New Year's Day is Thursday. That doesn't seem right. It'll be 2009 in two days. 

I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Lover's Bowl (For Two) - - $10.05

It seems as though the magic of Christmas starts to dissipate once we find out that there is no Santa Clause. 

That's when the magic starts to go away. 

The excitement of Christmas takes all the way up until college before it leaves. There's no more sleepy eyes and stumbling down the stairs. The mystery of what's under the tree (if there's even a tree this year) is gone. The new gadget you asked for? You got it. Or the boxer briefs you desperately needed? You're already wearing 'em. The Publix gift card? Completely unexpected - But you needed it.

It's Florida. It's 80 degrees. And it's Christmas. 

I want to move up north. I want a miserably cold, hustle-and-bustle, stressed out and white Christmas. I want to dress like Santa for the kids down at the orphanage. I want to put reindeer antlers on a German shepherd named Charlie. I want to gift wrap a tiny little box that's barely big enough to hold the key that's in it. And then my wife's eyes will light up with joy. She'll look at me. And then I'll say "They were having a sale on keys down at Marshall's. Just kidding! Check the garage you beautiful piece of God's creation!"

I'm a walking cliche'. What can I say?

Christmas was good this past year. It was a Thursday. My dad cooked. I ate. We (AJ, Jessica, and I) ripped off our arms and gave them to AMC in return for the privilege of seeing The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.

Great movie. Two Thumbs up. A little long, but it was enjoyable and had a Big Fish type feel to it.

Seriously, though. Where do they get off charging a student $10.00 for a movie ticket?! It was 5:00pm on a Thursday. Sheesh.

So onto the best part of Christmas Day 2008. For some reason Japanese Steakhouses stay open 365. It must be that never ending work ethic that the Asian culture continues to live up to. Either way, Jessica and I stopped in to Ichiro to grab some drinks and what we found was *drum roll, trumpets sound* The lover's bowl! In a nutshell, it's a giant ceramic bowl filled to the brim with a very alcoholic cocktail, a flame that burns in the middle, and it comes complete with two giant straws to drink it down with.

The only thing more repulsive than watching a fat woman light up a cigarette is watching two fat women light up cigarettes.

Christmas has certainly come up fast this year. Which contradicts the feeling that I have that Thanksgiving feels so far behind us.

Christmas feels different, too. This holiday season feels more desolate than I can ever recall. It's tough to pin point what the problem is. It could be that some of the longstanding group members in the circle of friends can't be with us this year. Or it could be because the days seem so short and the weather outside is a dry cold. I've even thought that the feeling stems from the prevalance of non-touching buildings in town. There's too much space between everything, it seems. Especially people - and so desolate is the word that fits.

And aside from all of those characteristics, there's more to be remarked about the state of the economy and how it's changing all the headlines in the paper. Money is tight. Cash flow is slow. But still Christmas means cycles of giving and receiving. It's tough to shop on a budget.

Walking through the aisles of the department store I couldn't help but think about how all of my gift ideas felt uninspired. Anything I came up with seemed irrelevant. I wish my gifts could somehow change the recipients' life for the better - in the same way that when I browse the drama section in Blockbuster I'm always trying to find a movie that will ignite my passion for life.

It's hard to change someone's life on a budget.

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And for the record, as soon as I can figure out how to do it, my blog will be moving to www.accordingtochuck.com. I'm very excited to have a concise web address. I think it'll be a real hit with all of the support from my readers. I'm almost up to 600 views!

Like sunny-side up eggs hanging on a fuckin' nail

It was sometime between 12:40am and 3:14am when all the wine was gone.

Note to self: waiting around for someone to be missing you is torture.

You know that it was so poetic. There were words to describe your emotions that you hadn't learned.

And you forgot everything that you wanted to say.

You is me.

I've always wanted to casually stroll up to a hooker, look her right in the eyes and say real coyly, "So, uh...when do you get off work?"

I paid a little visit to the sex addicts anonymous website.  They've got a concise 12-question quiz that will supposedly tell you whether or not you have a problem with sexual addiction.  Basically, if you can answer yes to more than one of the following questions, then they encourage you to seek additional literature or to attend a sex addicts anonymous meeting.

Sex Addicts Assessment Quiz:

1. Do you keep secrets about your sexual or romantic activities from those important to you? Do you lead a double life?
   
2. Have your needs driven you to have sex in places or situations or with people you would not normally choose?
   
3. Do you find yourself looking for sexually arousing articles or scenes in newspapers, magazines, or other media?
   
4. Do you find that romantic or sexual fantasies interfere with your relationships or are preventing you from facing problems?
   
5. Do you frequently want to get away from a sex partner after having sex? Do you frequently feel remorse, shame, or guilt after a sexual encounter?
   
6. Do you feel shame about your body or your sexuality, such that you avoid touching your body or engaging in sexual relationships? Do you fear that you have no sexual feelings, that you are asexual?
   
7. Does each new relationship continue to have the same destructive patterns which prompted you to leave the last relationship?
   
8. Is it taking more variety and frequency of sexual and romantic activities than previously to bring the same levels of excitement and relief?
   
9. Have you ever been arrested or are you in danger of being arrested because of your practices of voyeurism, exhibitionism, prostitution, sex with minors, indecent phone calls, etc.?
   
10. Does your pursuit of sex or romantic relationships interfere with your spiritual beliefs or development?
    
11. Do your sexual activities include the risk, threat, or reality of disease, pregnancy, coercion, or violence?
    
12. Has your sexual or romantic behavior ever left you feeling hopeless, alienated from others, or suicidal?

Personally, I qualify. I also loosely qualify as an exhibitionist. Apparently, the definition of an exhibitionist is someone who obtains sexual arousal by exposing his or her genitals to unsuspecting strangers. Me - well, I like to be nude to obtain comedic arousal and the people are usually suspecting. I don't think I have any abnormal fetishes.

How about you? Can you answer "yes" to more than one of those twelve questions? How about just one of them? Were you ever disciplined by your parents as a child for strutting around with a boner? Did your uncle ever shove you into the board game closet and "bat your shit around"? Did your parents ever humiliate you by dressing you in girls' clothing and call you a "faggot" as a form of punishment simply because you enjoyed Barbies and tea-parties as opposed to G.I. Joe and Power Ranger action figures. 

None of these?! Congrats.

Well, I'm not saying that these scenarios have ever been played out for me, but they are associated with causes that may lead someone in a paraphiliac direction. 

For years and years and years I've been held captive by my boners. Take any nice guy out there.  I mean it - take the most handsome, chivalrous, clean-shaven guy out there and send a rush of blood to his penis and he's libel to rape the first woman he sees. Or at least have his pants around his ankles sitting in a computer chair.  99% of guys masterbate - the other 1% lie.

I've done some questionable things under the persuasive power of my penis.

Most recently, after stumbling in from the bar, I emailed a Craigslist prostitute at 3:00am.

And you know, it's interesting - Perhaps interesting isn't the right word -  I guess I could say that it's peculiar how much power sex has.  

I did get an email back from the prostitute. She left her phone number. Of course I didn't call her. 

I'd NEVER call her. I've thought a lot about the idea behind sexual fantasies. The part that gives them their power is just that - keeping them fantasies. 

It's more of a concept than a reality as I like to put it.

Tell all of your friends about www.theworldinaccordancewithchuck.blogspot.com

Viva La (Plagiarism)?

I've just recently caught wind of the lawsuit pending against Coldplay. Famed guitar guru Joe Satriani is suing Coldplay for copyright infringement - stating that the Grammy nominated Viva La Vida is far too similar to his 2004 release If I could Fly.

Now, I must admit that I am quite ashamed. Before coming across this case I had never heard of Joe Satriani.  After a bit of research and a few downloads, I'm convinced that Joe Satriani is indeed a legend of rock. 

Most of his credit is given as a guitar instructor with names on his student list that include: David Bryson from The Counting Crows, Kevin Cadogan of Third Eye Blind, and arguably one of the greatest to ever wield a rock axe - Metallica's Kirk Hammett as well as countless others.

But Joe's own solo career has produced a dozen instrumental albums - all with names inspired by the science fiction genre and all of which have been nominated for a Grammy.  He has worked with numerous notables including Alice Cooper, Steve Vai, Joe Perry, and most recently there are talks of a band forming with former Van Halen front man Sammy Hagar, Michael Anthony, and Red Hot Chili Pepper's drummer Chad Smith called.. um Chickenfoot? The name could use some work, but I'm personally interested to see how it turns out.

So, here's a video I found on YouTube and it is a slightly long clip, but I thought that this guy was pretty intelligent and did a great overall analysis of the two songs as opposed to just playing both songs and going "so there ya go".

So I don't want anyone after having read this to think that I'm suddenly anti-Coldplay.  Quite the contrary.  I'm actually rather fond of them.  My music library includes Parachutes, X&Y, A Rush of Blood to the Head, and Viva La Vida And All Of His Friends.  They have accompanied me on many a long car trips, jogs, and slumbers.

If anything, I hoped to just gather some more attention to good ol' Joe Satriani - or Satch as they call him.

I do think that it is pretty undeniable that the songs have a resemblance.  I wouldn't know which way to go in this case, though. It seems that there are only so many notes and combinations possible so it shouldn't go without saying that these types of situations are bound to happen - and do happen - all the time.  How many times have you heard a song and then said "Gee. This sure does sound like the song Monstrocity Atrocity by The Lamp Situation? Or you know..any other non-fictional song by a real band.

*Monstrocity Atrocity and The Lamp Situation are fictional references. Any similarity to actual song titles and/or bands is completely coincidental.  And if you do find a similarity...well, ya know what you can do with your stupid similarity? You can take a flying [a passing jet liner mutes out most of what he says] ..till the handle breaks off and you have to get a doctor to pull it out again.

Saturday: Waiting and Still Waiting

When you wake up with nothing to do, and when you go to bed knowing that when you wake up you'll have nothing to do - it can depress the hell out of you to Holden Caufield type proportions. 

You wake up. Eat some oatmeal. Fall back asleep. Wake up and drink some coffee. Fall back asleep. Wake up and eat some chicken pot pie. And in between all this sleeping and eating you pick and choose between what to watch on the boob tube.

Did you know that the origin of calling a TV a boob tube is the fact that they used to - or maybe still are - made with cathode ray tubes.  And that if you watch too much of it you turn into a boob. For more information on this type of transformation just consult the beautifully illustrated and classic Children's book by Chris Van Allsburg entitled The Wretched Stone. 

Sorry. I got side tracked. It's easy to do that on Wikipedia. Chris Van Allsburg books should be a whole 'nother blog for another Saturday.

I've got to hand it to Tim Tebow and the University of Florida Gators! Wow. What a game!  I'll admit that I was pretty arrogant going into the game.  The final score was closer than the one I had envisioned. That's OK, though.  I suppose eight games of winning by at least 28 points is good enough of a streak. These Florida Gators are amazing and Tim Tebow is by far the MVP of the entire NCAA. 

(This is where I exploit my latent homosexual tendencies) I fully believe that there is no other quarterback that could step in and do what he does. The guy is an incredible role model. Every interview he is so humble, and he always has so much pride in being able to give all the glory to God. His on field play is unrivaled.  The power with which he runs.  The intelligence he exuberates when he passes.  And the intensity and passion in which he does all things on and off the field. I'm happy for the guy.  I truly am. I can't wait to see his life progress. I used to be a despicable douchebag when it came to Tim. I'll admit that I had something against him because he was such a golden boy, but now I admire him so much that I've actually come to peace with the idea of him ravaging my girlfriend.  Hell. I'd be honored. 

I would, however, expect her to try her hardest to get pregnant because those child support checks would come in handy. And when that man-boy got to the 6th grade and began to tower over me, with a much larger penis and testicles and a canon for an arm - I would tell him the truth - maybe. 

The point of all that was - Tim Tebow is the man and the Gators are the SEC Champions and soon to be the BCS National Champions for the second time in three years.

So back to the other "winners" of my viewing attention.  I watched some scattered episodes of King of Queens: AKA a good representation of my future - you know, just a whole lot of little one liners and lots of sarcasm.  I watched some True Life episodes about three dudes who went to Iraq and came back with some post traumatic stress.  I did a project on that in high school. That's besides the point. I mean, who hasn't for crying out loud.

And then I watched the Lifetime premier of Flirting With 40. 1) I'm probably gay for watching Lifetime. 2) The values that channel represents are just completely out of wack.  In not so many words, the plot goes something like this: Heather Locklear - making a comeback after her recent DUI troubles - is a hot (yes) just-turned-40 year old professional who is divorced with two kids. So she goes on this little birthday vacation by herself to Hawaii and hooks up with this buff (yes) mid-20's surf instructor. Over the course of the next few months she begins to neglect her work and kids to make regular trips halfway around the world to have relations with this guy.  All the while she's a hero of the feminist for being independent. The End. Sheesh.

Which brings me to the last thing I've watched. The wonderful cult comedy Waiting.  This movie might just make it onto my "Comedy Top Ten" list. That list actually doesn't exist, but if it did then - well that movie might make it onto it. I'm just saying. It's that good. When I wasn't in an uproar of laughter - which is really rare if I'm by myself - I was partially inspired. Maybe inspired isn't the right word, but it'll suffice. Just a great cast. What isn't there to love about Ryan Reynolds? Justin Long captures that "I've gotta get out of here and live up to my potential" feeling that I've suffered from since about 11th grade.  Dane Cook is interchangeable with Mike Atkins and his small role provides much enjoyment. And then there's the fact that even Andy Milonakis was able to make me chuckle a bit. He's never been able to do that under his own comic guise. Also, what makes Waiting so awesome is the fact that it is often stated as a dead-on representation of the restaurant worker life.

So boy was I ecstatic to learn that there will in fact be a sequel. Still Waiting. And although it will be absent of Ryan Reynolds, I suspect that it will still be rich in entertainment value.

So now that this posting is coming to a conclusion where am I? Where are you after having read this? I'm afraid I may have just wasted a few good moments of your life. I'm sure you had more important things to do than to read my non-eventful ramblings - especially since there wasn't any underlying theme or any edifying statements. This last paragraph wrapping up the posting still doesn't even correctly culminate it.

Back to the first question - where am I? Another day wasted. Still feeling like I'm stuck in a rut. I've still got this crazy notion that I could someday do some acting.  Any minute now I'm going to start writing this short story/screenplay idea I've got in mind. I think it's quite good.  Usually I have this terrible problem when it comes to my writing. I've got great character development - in my opinion, of course - but I have trouble with the conflicts. The conflict in a story happens to be a rather large portion, so that's the problem. Unless you're writing Napoleon Dynamite. Don't get me wrong. Napoleon had its funny moments, too.  So anywho.  I've got a conflict. I've got some character development.  I think I'm set to begin writing.

I swear that I could be a movie star if I could get out of this place.

I do a lot of thinking and pondering about the future.  This isn't the absurd part.

The part that defines my insanity is the part about wanting a six or seven year old domestically manufactured SUV or having a black cordless phone in my kitchen. You could even cite my need for a breakfast nook or a riding lawn mower --um, a snapper, nonetheless -- as being derangements of my mind.

I've never thought too highly of being an actor.  Not the profession itself - but of me being an actor. I never thought I possessed the talent necessary to persue the dream. But then I thought about it today - just now and very seriously.

And I'm not going to take you for an idiot - I read the biographies of a Mr. Chris Farley and a Mr. Phillip Seymour Hoffman.

They took some acting classes.  They stumbled around some stupid jobs.  They had passion, and they made it.

And when I think about my future I think my window of opportunity to persuing acting just got cracked open a little more.  To go ahead and expand the metaphor: it's getting drafty in here.

Maybe in my biography, if I am ever priveleged enough to have one, it'll talk about my humble beginning. And I don't think it'd be out of the question to say that if Chris were alive today I could have had the opportunity to sit right between him and Phillip and have a drink.

What a glorious montage!

You know the one I'm talking about! I'm talking about Rocky II when Adrienne breaks out of her coma and says "Win, Rocky. Win!" And then he goes back into fighting mode.  And he's running with a log on his back.  Then he's doing 50 one handed pushups. Next he's doing military presses until he's exhausted.  And after all that he's doing hundreds of situps while someone beats on his stomach.  All the while he's wearing a shirt that says "Win, Rocky. Win!". And then, you know what's coming next.  He's running through the streets of Philadelphia slapping hands and waving. More and more people start running behind him just like in Forrest Gump. He's an inspiration. A hero! The original underdog! So when he gets within a 1/4 mile of the Philadelphia Museum of Art he goes into an all-out sprint all the way to the top where he jumps around waving his fist in the air!

Wow. What a montage indeed! If that doesn't motivate you, then you may just have to check your citizenship. There may be a mistake.

So while I was elbow deep in the AMC Rocky Marathon, I was thinking about how we all make these cookie-cutter plans for our lives.  Obviously we all (with a few exceptions) get past the elementary dreams of being a professional athlete, movie star, cop, nurse or whatever.  Not to say that some of us don't actually get to have those careers, but as far as celebrities go - it's rare, and as far being a nurse or cop - it stops being a "dream job" and starts becoming a means to an end really. Just my viewpoint.  Maybe there's a nurse of a cop out there who wouldn't want to do anything but stay right where they are.

The point is that there's a time when you finally realize that it's game time and you've got to pick a path and stick.  So you start thinking about when/if you'll graduate college.  You'll think about when and who you'll marry.  Your career has to be realistic, achievable and dependable because if you are going to have 2.3 children, then you'll have to have a way to pay for diapers and private school.

So we all make these plans. Maybe secretively.  It's more like a timeline.  And it's perfect. But during the course of our excursion down our paths we don't account for forks in the road or detours.  

I was thinking about this.  I mean, how could you account for variations in your timeline? There's only one who knows for sure how all the puzzle pieces of your life fit together. The Prince of Peace, King of Kings, Alpha and Omega, Good Shepherd, The Way - Truth - and the Life - *cough*cough* GOD, if you will.

The problem I've been having for quite some time now is being able to put ALL of my faith into him.  I've never fully been able to give him my 100%.  I've never been able to say "God, these are my problems, and I need a solution." Because it's my understanding that that is exactly what he wants.  In the same way that you have a father here on earth who you bring your problems to and say "Fix it. Help me", God wants you to be able to come to him. Trust him. And he will. That's the common theme I've been gathering from my reading - you know, after I dusted off my Bible. It must be an incredibly liberating feeling to be able to take the weight off your back completely and ask God for the help. I'm not there yet, but I figure that enough prayer will lead me.

So back to the cookie-cutter remarks. If life always went the way we'd planned then there'd be no such thing as a pleasant surprise. If we knew the end of the story before we got there, then there'd be no point in reading. Life seems much better as a rollercoaster even if there are a bunch of dips. 

Those dips are what make the peaks that much sweeter, don't ya think? When Rocky beat Apollo Creed he shocked the world. It wouldn't have been much of an underdog story if everyone knew he would win and become the heavy weight champion of the world - everyone in the fictional story of Rocky that is - um - I knew he would win before I began to watch it.

And if you thought the montage from Rocky II was great. Try the one in the beginning of Rocky III. Eye of the Tiger playing. Rocky kicking a**.  Making piles of money. Going from country to country. And then all in between Mr. T is sneaking around watching Rocky fight and slaughtering people in the ring.

                                                                                                                 

My Cell Phone Fell Down the Garbage Disposal (It's Fine Now)

The decision is pretty much made.  The paper's aren't signed yet, but the decision is pretty much made.  I will be joining the military.  Right now I am hung up between the Army or the Air Force. For some reason I am fairly set on joining the Army.  I'm not entirely sure of the reason for my..infatuation.  Is that the right word? Infatuation? But at any rate I look at the military as my so-called "way out".  I'll have a job, no bills to speak of, no worries about where I'm going to lay my head, and to top it all off they pay for your education in full.  Some have said that it isn't worth it.  That I should put a little more thought into this.  After all, this isn't picking out a shirt for casual Friday - it's life changing.  I think that for as close to worthless as I feel I'll be making a great trade. My life for the next eight years for a future.  It's true.  I may be slightly naive coming into this situation.  But the truth is that I'm going down on a sinking ship: the S.S. Chuck's Hope and Dreams.  Through educational neglect I've lost my grants and ergo can't afford to go to school anymore.  Through sheer irresponsibility (and then help from the economy) I've been unemployed for the last seven weeks or so.  I've been without my car for going on two months now.  I'm broke.  I feel hopeless. These are all good reasons to join the military. Not to mention the fact that I'd be proud and humbled to serve this great nation for all that she has given me.

I'm looking into psychological operations specialist - "Psych Ops," the recruiter said.  I think it aligns well with my personality and also my civilian career goals. And it's weird to say civilian. Mostly because it puts up even more of a real barrier between life and military life.  That's the scariest part.  There's a lot of sacrifice.  Like I said, I'd be property of the military for the next 8 years.  It's like a drug dealer who goes to prison and still tries to hustle.  Maybe not quite, but you get the point.  Communication or the lack thereof will be very hard for me. The majority.  I'd say 95% of my hesitation is not getting to see my "baby-boo-angel-face". I'm not quite sure what comprises the other 5%, but I just wanted to illustrate how much I'm going to miss Jessica by having to go away for awhile. The percentage may even be more than 95%, but the point is that I love her more than anything. She is my everything, and I want a future with her. With that said, I think that the military can also help me in this area as well because by giving me a better future...it gives us a better future.

So in the next 42 days until 2009 and my signing of my life away I've got a lot of preperation. Not just physically in preperation for basic training, but mentally as well.  I want to insure that Jessica and I are strong going into this decision, so that we can be stronger on the way out. Overall, given my perception of my situation the military seems like a cure-all. 

I should probably hurry up and rent Stanley Kubrick's Full-Metal Jacket, G.I. Jane with Demi Moore, the movie Cadet Kelly with Hillary Duff, and 1994's In the Army Now with Pauly Shore to really give me the best view of what I'll be getting into. 

The Truth About Cops

Why does anyone become a cop?  I've racked my brain plenty to come up with that answer.  It seems to be a popular choice.  Everyone knows at least one personally.  That's why I've got to be a tad bit careful about what I say because off the top of my head I could have in upwards of four offended friends.

But cops.  But policeman.  But law enforcement officers. get a bad rep.  And my little situation on Friday night is a perfect testimony as to why.

There I was going home from Jacksonville.  A drive that I've made too many times to have kept track of in the last three years.  And in the last three years I did manage one ticket on this drive. It was on Thanksgiving Day's night in 2005.  I was speeding.  I was definetly speeding.  I couldn't have known, though, because at the time, my vehicle's speedometer did not work and I was a lone driver on the road.  I remember that ticket very well.  I was tired coming back.  I kept dozing off and getting woken up by the bumping of my tires on the median, and when I got pulled over I was actually dozing off then.  I thought that I had ran a red light or something. Maybe hit a pedestrian or something in my near-unconscious state.  No, I was in fact just going about 35 over the speed limit - in Waldo, nonetheless.  

But back to Friday night.  I was just trying to get home.  I wasn't speeding.  I wasn't swerving.  I was wearing my seatbelt. My headlight was out. For the most part I kept my high beams on because traffic was thin.  This was of course Highway 301, and it was of course a late Friday night.  There's another town on 301 that you may not be so familiar with.  Waldo is the Tom Brady of speed traps. Wait.  That didn't make much sense, but I think it may have at least gotten my point across.  I'll leave it.  For the most part, though, Waldo has been quiet as far as I know.  I haven't heard any horror stories coming out of there in awhile.  But there's this other town.  They've got a stoplight or two.  It's cliche', but if you blink you may miss it.  Honestly, you might.  They've got a prison that serves as the main source of income for the town.  The other you may have guessed is traffic citations. Certainly the dilapidated convenience stores and po' dunk "restaurants" aren't adding much to the town's cashflow. And I cringe when I use the word restaurant to describe these incestual, redneck infested feeding troughs.  You'll know you're getting close because you'll see the billboards that read: Lawtey Speed Trap 5 miles.  One thing I never got was who pays for these billboards and why?  But the town is Lawtey, and look at me. Gabbing away, and I haven't even got to what happened.

I saw the cop parked on the roadside as I passed, and I saw the lights go on.  And my heart didn't sink like it normally does when I see police lights go on behind me because I didn't think I had done anything against the law.  I pulled off the road.  I went through the typical motions. The license.  The registration.  Everything checked out fine.  And then the officer walked back with citation in hand.  He said your headlight is out.  I should have said "I'm not f***ing retarded. It's pretty easy to notice when I'm behind the wheel and it's pitch black outside."  But I told him I knew.  I had only discovered right before I went to head home.  I told him I was just keeping my high beams on for the most part.  He didn't care.  He was a piece of shit cop.  A piece of shit cop with a cleft lip.  And do you know how much that ticket was for? $91! What the f***. Oh, but if I get the headlight fixed and have a cop sign off on my citation I can pay a reduced fine.  What's the reduced fine? $68! Oh, gee, thanks.  You piece of shit.  This wasn't even the end of my frustration.  

Wouldn't you know that when I went to leave and get the hell out of that stupid town, my car wouldn't start.  The cop got out his little voltage box to try to jump it, but that wasn't the problem.  Then he stared at me for a little while and I said "Umm...I was just going to call my dad and get this all figured out." And he stared at me a little more, and I said "Umm...was there anything else?" And he told me that my car apparently couldn't stay where it was.  I said I would move it.  He offered to help me push, and in a spiteful tone I told him that he had "helped" me out enough and that I would push it myself.  And then he said "Ok. 10-4, buddy."  First of all, I'm not your f***in' buddy.  Second of all.  I hope you don't make it home tonight.  That's what I should have said.  Because that's what I really hoped.

And over the course of the next 45 minutes or so while I waited for a ride back to Gainesville from AJ (which, thanks so much, man) I watched him pull over 4 other vehicles.  It seemed that every rush of traffic would leave behind a straggler.  

I actually got pulled over right next to the Lawtey city hall.  Wait.  It's the Lawtey police department.  Oh, wait.  It's the Lawtey fire department.  It's all three, and it's a mobile home practically.  F***in' piece of sh** town.

So the truth may very well be that there are some great cops out there.  And that's to be expected.  I've met some very generous officers in my day. I've gotten off the hook even, and I personally know some very generous officers.  Really great guys, but the truth is that it's situations like Friday night that ruin it all.  I've never been a big fan of cops.  Like I said, there have been those rare moments where a cop has let me breathe a sigh of relief and I'm not ignorant.  I know that there's a societal neccessity for law enforcement, but it's just sad.  It's a shame and a little bit ironic that the same people who are in a position to restore peace are also the target of so much fear and hostility.

Test Taking Tips

Here's my response to waking up at 6:30am to cram some more test knowledge into my head: "F***!, F***ity, F***!, F***!"

Here's my response at 11:00am when my test was handed to me: "Sh**! [expletive, expletive, etc., etc.] This isn't what I studied! Son of a c***gobbling b****! F*** this!" (All in my head of course).

It was right around question #107 that I can recall really just having a meltdown.  Here I am (there I was) sitting in a psychology of personality class arguing in my own head about which multiple choice selection is correct, and it went something like this.

Ok.  "A" sounds like a good answer.

Wait. "B" also sounds like a good answer. Sh**.

"C" can't be right.  I'll rule it out.

"D" = Both "A and B". F*** yeah! But before I could fill in the bubble...

"E" = All of the above. F*** Sh**!

Now.  I felt strongly about "A". And I felt good about "B".  Does that mean that I should choose "D"?  Or! Did I maybe overlook "C" and so the answer is in fact "E". Gosh damn, mother f***ing, donkey d*** sucking whore!

I pick "D".  Next freakin' question.

It was the stretch of questions between #107 and #142 where I was really just out of it.  Just washed up.  Brain drained, if you will.  I started making careless choices - even resorting back to high school logic for my answer choice.  The ever popular: "If you don't know the answer, it's "C" may have cost me a few valuable multiple choice points today. Or...it may have gained me valuable points. 

But it wasn't just that easy.  Patterns began to form.  And we all know that patterns must be questioned.  They must be interrogated. You must first ask yourself what the probability of spelling CAB, BAD, BEAD right in a row would be.  You must then question the very motive of the instructor.  Is this a trick? Is this a setup? Am I being watched? Are these answers correct and the mere existence of these spelling patterns intentional to trip me up into changing my answers? Or has fate provided yet another coincidental act?  The answer must be "C".  Erase.  That's just too many "C"s in a row! Bubble in "C" again.  Repeat.  You're not even trying to answer the questions anymore.  It's a psychology test in more ways than one.  It's also a math test.  It's also a sick, diabolical scheme.  But I'd really love a blowjob right now. A blowjob would really hit the spot. So, bubble in "B" for blowjob and just move on...to essay questions.  

Essay questions are great. For instance, when there's five essay questions.  And the instructions say that you can choose to answer 3 of those 5.  And one more for extra credit (but you have to mark the extra credit one, of course)...and you look them over...and you only know one for sure.  You could write a damn book about one of them.  And you could squeeze by with another of them, but that's it. 

 

So you are stuck with trying to pass at least one more of the essay questions off by just reforming the question and using related words found throughout the multiple choice questions and answers section.  And you don't even know if what you've said makes any sense, but you hope that your test is at the bottom of the stack when it comes time to grade them. And you hope your professor is tired by the time he or she gets to yours.  And you hope that they are a big-time Murder She Wrote fan.  And you hope that by the time they get to your paper, Angela Lansbury is already sitting down at her typewriter with a piano jamming out in the background, so they just see some chicken-scratch that fills up the space provided and they give you credit for that one.  In addition you score some extra credit even though you answered THAT essay question with your theory about why as a person you suck and what you would do to fix your life if you just had access to a time machine.

The Cab-Plain White T's-Dashboard Confessional- and Panic! At the Disco: Concert

The O'Connell Center was rocking on Saturday night to the stomps of sixteen year old girls' and homosexual guys' feet.

My baby-boo-angel-face had scored us tickets to this concert.  Overall, I'll say that it was a lot of fun.  We missed The Cab perform which no big deal because I had never heard of them in the first place.  The Plain White T's - despite their lack of stage presence - were OK.  They sang "Hey there, Delilah" so what really more could you have asked of them?  I'm not sure how old their band members are, but they seem like they've been at this rockstar thing for awhile now and just so happened to hit gold with a ballad about a girl named Delilah.  Just my take.  I won't bash them, though.  They at least produced a good pop sound.  And the guitarist was pretty handsome, I must say.

I was scratching my head as to why Dashboard Confessional wasn't the headliner for this concert.  They put on a great show with such songs as "Vindicated", "Hands Down", "Screaming Infidelities", etc.  But the real highlight of the entire concert, I thought, was when Dashboard got The Cab and The Plain White T's out on stage to cover the Pink song "So What".  I was feeling just like those adolscent girls and d***-sucking boys at that exact moment.  It was truly magical.  I would pay to see them cover that song again.  All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed the Dashboard Confessional portion of the concert.

Now, Panic! At the Disco just couldn't get through the concert without saluting new President Elect Obama through a shout-out and song tribute - some song about change...or maybe it's called Change or something or another...Anywho, I hate when celebrities and bands share their political views.  That's like getting cooking tips from a mechanic.  You get the point.  With that said, Panic! was alright.  They've got a lot of songs that really get the party jumpin-jumpin in my opinion.  I wasn't sure how I felt about standing in the O'Connell center and listening to their music as oppossed to being in a club, party, etc but that's fine.  I enjoy a good portion of their music, and they played all the hits so I wasn't really disappointed.

Some notable people sitting around me and Jessica during the concert that I think are worthy of a shout-out: 

To the blantently gay, 15-ish boy just a few seats down - your flailing was entertaining to me.  It was very apparent that if the lead singer for Panic! had wanted you to go down on him you would have done so in a tit-whisper.  Your clear skin, perched lips, and closed eyes all made very convincing arguments for this. 

To the fat-chick sitting (mostly standing and jumping) in the seat right above us: Damn, you were making the whole section shake.  No joke.

To the nerdy-FSU guys sitting right below us: Wha? You drove all the way from Tallacrappy to see this concert? And you came together.  Two dudes came together to see this concert? I'm speachless.  Man, you guys were nerdy as hell.  I had a hard time believing you were in college, but all of the tom-a-hawks you were doing proved me wrong, I suppose.  I guess to your credit you knew all the words to Everlong by the Foo Fighters and Alive by Pearl Jam and we made a nice pair singing while waiting for the next bands to get on stage.  But I wouldn't doubt if one of you was going to give road head to the other on the way back to Tally.  Maybe you'll even switch off driving, too.  I mean, you guys took a lot of video and pictures, so you can't blame me for my snap judgements about your sexuality.

So in conclusion, the concert was a great way to spend the 8th of November.  I'm glad Jessica got us the tickets.  It was a lot of fun.  AND while we were at the concert, the Gators were in the middle of punishing Vanderbilt! (And seriously, Dashboard Confessional performing "So What" was awesome).

I've made a fair amount of mistakes. None that are narcotics related, though.

"I think they are actually going to turn out well this time," I said.  I was referring to the brownies.  They are baking as I type.  You see, last time we baked brownies they turned out a bit dry for some reason.  This time, though I think I've redeemed myself.

Enough about that, though.  As I was sitting on the toilet today and reading the biography of Sam Walton some more --I have been off-and-on reading it for awhile now --I just started thinking about what the hell I'm doing right now.  It's rough.  I'm still jobless.  However, I never shared in a blog the sketchy sales job I picked up for two days. (It sucks that I love sales and dealing with people so much but that every job related to this field is so sketchy!) Anywho, I'm reading about Sam Walton.  Who by the way is an amazing guy.  Just a real down home jee-golly business man.  He just had an awesome philosophy about the way business should be done and he ran with it gaining a lot of support along the way with his great attitude.  One of the things he said was that he was surprised that they were printing in the paper with such shock that he drove a beat-up pick-up truck and got his haircut from a barber in his home town.  This was in an interview in the 80's after he was said to have been the richest man in America at the time.  His reply was "Well where else do you get a haircut? And where would I put my hunting dogs if I didn't drive that pick-up?"  Just really a fantastic guy to read about.

So back to me.  I was thinking on the toilet about how I'm just spiraling right now.  I'm feeling more and more depressed daily.  And of course I've made some stupid choices and mistakes that haven't helped me out any, but the part that really sucks is that I've just never really had any margin for error.  No wiggle room to screw up, learn something, and then get right back to it.  That's how I feel anyway.  Sometimes I'd like to see the future or at least get a visit from myself from the future and just know that everything has worked out.

This post, I feel, has been a whole lot of nothing.  Maybe that's ok because that's what a blog is for sometimes.  I should probably put something of entertainment worth in this so I'll leave you with my opinion on this - Did you get a chance to read the Alligator today?  There was a print in the "letters to the editor" section that made me quite pissed off. I was just going to type the letter - in italics of course.

               

University Police Officer Overstepped Boundaries at Election Bash

By Perpetua Chery, 1LS

Nov. 4 should have been one of the best days of my life. However, that historic moment was tainted for me by the actions of a UF police officer. As I was walking into the Reitz Union Grand Ballroom to join my friends for the Elections Bash, a police officer grabbed me by the arm and pulled me toward her. While wagging her index finger in my face, she told me three times, “Don’t you ever push me when you walk past me.”
The first two times I apologized because, frankly, I hadn’t even realized she was there, let alone that I had touched her, but she still had a firm grip on my upper arm and was yelling at me like I was a child.
She let go, and I walked back into the room. I was completely shocked. I was humiliated and hurt, but after I thought about it, I became angry. She was supposed to serve and protect, but instead she hid behind her badge and bullied me. I tried excusing her actions and blamed it on a bad day, but in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but think about it. Did she do it because I am a female? Did she do it because I am black? What if no one was around, would she have beaten me?

Then I realized no matter how far our country comes, there will still be a lot of ignorant people calling themselves Americans.

A few problems I have with this: Did SHE do it because I am a female? Did she do it because I am BLACK? What if no one was around, would she have BEATEN me?  The absurdity of these statements just astounds me.  This person played the race card for one.  One of the most unrespected tactics known.  She accused a female cop of treating her poorly (which her treatment is debateable because I'm positive she deserved it) for possibly being a female herself, and she said...what? She said that if no one was around would the cop had beaten her??! WTF.  The stupidity of it all.   I've got plenty more to say, but I'll stifle myself.  Your comments?

Michael Crichton has died.

It was over before 11:00pm.  I could hear the "woo's" and fireworks not long after. Barack Hussein Obama is the 44th president of the United States of America.  I've already expressed my opinion on the election, so anything I'd have to say that would express disappointment  in the outcome for whatever reasons would just be futile.  

Congrats, Barack.  You've got a long way to go to live up to that savior status.  I hope that for some reason you are the change the country needed and things get better.  Your charisma, notably second-to-none, will take a side seat to action now that the election is over.

I very much enjoyed the humility from John McCain's speech.  He deserves so much respect. It's certainly not over for him.  He has been a servant for our country for more years than Obama has been alive, and he will continue to do so until his last breath I'm sure.

With that said, I very much enjoyed Obama's speech, too.  He showed so much class.  His speech gave me a great deal of ease that maybe he can be bi-partisan and break away from his title as one of the most liberal senators in congress.  I sure do hope.  I'd like to see an efficient government - one that restores our nation to the unrivaled best on the Earth. 

So, I voted. I took part in the democratic process.  I enjoyed a free donut from Krispy Kreme. And it was painful to watch the map of the United States turn blue I must say. But for the next four years at least, Obama will be my president. Our president. So I will hang onto every word of his addresses.  I will admire his position.  I will respect him and all of the honor that he represents.  Only 43 have come before him. 

It's going to be awfully hard for an African American person to ever claim that their color or descent is a barrier to their success from here on out, too. 

Gainfully Unemployed

Today is just another Thursday of being unemployed.  What have I been doing these past few days, uh...weeks, um..month or so of being unemployed? In between flipping back and forth through the Gainesville Sun and Independent Florida Alligator's help wanted advertisements with no such luck, and clicking endlessly through scams and get-rich-quick-schemes on Craigslist, I've been utilizing our Blockbuster movie pass.  

So this Thursday was no exception.  There I sat in our wonderfully frigid apartment in the typical unemployed attire of sweat pants and an old t-shirt with some morning coffee watching the latest of my rentals: Danny Deckchair. My roommates called me mentally handicapped in not so many words for my choice in movie, but Danny Deckchair was in fact a Blockbuster employee favorite and everything about the box cover, name, and description on the back tickled my Chuck-fancy.

It's a little known movie with a cast of unknowns but once I made it through the first 20 minutes or so when the movie "takes off"...that's actually a play on the tagline and plot...anywho, once I made it to the meat of the movie I became enthralled by the adventrous idea of just ending up somewhere unfamiliar and re-inventing yourself. Similar feelings were stirred up from watching The Hudsucker Proxy and that Michael J. Fox classic The Secret of My Succe$s.

The idea is nothing new to my imagination or to the main plots of many movies.  I've always been one to fall back on the infamous phrase "I need a clean slate".  So this posting I guess could be a movie review, but it has developed into the ramblings of a man who has no real direction, but he's searching - albeit lackadaisically - for his new beginning.  I'm not sure watching a movie about a guy who travels by a deckchair tied to a bunch of giant helium filled balloons to another part of the U.K. is exactly the boost he [ I ] need(s), but at the least it excited his [ my ] imagination.

Use your brain. Vote McCain.

I saw that Kathy Vejano had this as her facebook status and made me pretty proud and glad. Now, you knew that it was only a matter of time before I finally had to put my two cents about the election into a blog writing.

Again, again.  Verily, verily I say unto you:  I do not think that McCain is the best choice for presidential candidate that the Republican party had to offer. HOWEVER, he is one of the most decorated war heroes of our country's fine history and deserves everyone's utmost respect whether you are voting for him or not.

With that said, I will be casting my vote for him and this is no secret.  I've got a lot of problems with B. Hussein Obama.  It's tough to pick a starting point.  I'll try to gather some thoughts and explain them as clearly as possible.

Has anyone forgotten that Senator Obama hasn't even completed a full term as senator yet?  He became a United States senator in 2004.  His voting record looks more like an elementary school roll call (he's voted "present" on more than 60% of the time instead of a yes or no).  Maybe that wasn't even the best starting point for the reasons why I can't fathom casting my precious vote for Obama.  The number one reason might be the fact that he is a blatent socialist.  It's disgusting.  Spread the wealth?  Spread the wealth?  Are you serious?  Talk like that conjures up thoughts about the Vietnam war.  I realize the economy is in the shitter right now.  I REALLY know that because I've been job searching for the past month with no luck.  But the answer isn't "spread the wealth" as Obama told overnight success Joe the Plumber.  Let's take a look at a very basic economic concept.  (And this is coming from someone who has grown up in a lower-middle class household)...because I've never heard of poor people creating jobs.  In order for the economy to pick-up you need to give the tax breaks to the wealthy because the wealthy own businesses who can take the extra money and expand which creates new jobs which allows people to pay their mortgages, student loans, car payments, etc.  And when people can pay their bills that means that the banks can loan out more money so that people can buy houses, buy cars, take out education loans and basically put confidence and value back into our economy. Giving money to the poor will only result in frivelous spending - because poor people don't own homes.  Poor people don't invest in the stock market.  Giving money to the true middle class doesn't help out much either.  The middle class doesn't spend as frivelously.  They actually help out the economy least when the government gives them money in the form of tax breaks and stimulus checks because they may pay up their mortgage, electric bills, etc. but for the most part the middle class puts as much as they can into the bank because they are scared of not having money and losing everything.  So there the money sits.  Dormant.  So, in a nutshell, socialism does not work.  It looks great on paper, mind you.  It sounds great for us all to be "equal" and for things to be "fair" but it can't work, won't work, never has worked.  It takes the motivating factors out of the economy.

So let's move on because I could write an entire book (with the help of much painstaking research and help from Mr. Collins at Orange Park High) on why socialism is a stupid notion and why if you feel like it is you've got no sense of how things really work.  Moving on.  

My blog is going to post a video that I had originally posted on my facebook.  RJ Phelps directed me to it and it's an awesome and concise video that it an accurate tell-all about Senator B. Hussein Obama's character.  He is anti-American.  He is racist(Just read any portion of his book "Dreams From My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance or listen to the countless sermons of his beloved ...dare I say pastor).  And I firmly believe this.  The writing is on the wall.  So instead of going any further into those comments I'd just like it if you watched the video and saw the truth.  I don't even know how you liberals are going to spin the video off as if what your watching is bullshit, but you will and that's ok.  You can keep the wool over your eyes.  You can continue to keep your brains turned off.  You can flock like sheep to the ballots and vote for the man who has things all wrong.

The video I've posted with this blog goes into some of Senator Obama's direct relations with international terrorists and his muslim affiliations, but real quick I wanted to mention (because I think it's a huge deal that is grossly ignored) is Senator Obama's relationship with Bill Ayers.  Have you ever looked the guy up?  Currently he is a big-wig in Chicago in consideration to education reform.  What makes this disturbing is his deep connection in the 60's and 70's to a TERRORIST group called The Weathermen who plagued the nation with various BOMBINGS and protests at national landmarks causing millions in damage and notably two people their lives.  Of course the two people who lost their lives were Weathermen theirselves, however.  And Obama has deeper connection with Ayers than just sharing a neighborhood.  Ayers has been a huge contributor to the Obama campaign and in Senator Obama's earlier career, Ayers had held many support rallies in his Chicago home.  Definetly worth talking about.

There's plenty more to talk about and if you are reading this and feeling opinionated I'd like you to express some comments.  No matter what side your on.  If you're casting your vote for Obama, then at the least, good for you for participating in the political process that men and women of the armed forces have fought for since the beginning of our great nation and that our founding fathers envisioned in Philadelphia so many years ago.  I'd like to find out, though, if there's some actual logic behind the choice for your vote still.  

There may have been a slight problem uploading the video onto the blog for some reason, but you can find it on my facebook wall or here's the link:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUdjhKbImwE It is on youtube as I Invented the Internet: Episode One.

An Oldy But a Goody: Reliving Miss South Carolina 2007

I know, I know. Everyone has already seen the video of Miss South Carolina's answer to why 1/5 of people in a recent poll couldn't locate the United States on a world map, but let's face it - the stupidity of her answer is baffling and I don't believe it could ever get old.

I decided to upload the video of Jimmy Kimmel's show talking about it because it is very rare that I see a late night show that makes me laugh that doesn't rhyme with Bonin' O' Dyin'. Wait? What? Anywho. I thought that Jimmy Kimmel did a pretty good job with his monologue and made a funny incident even funnier.

With that said, I hope that the state of South Carolina held an emergency education reform meeting after this all happened because that girl gave one of the most embarrassing pageant answers I have ever heard. What A.C. Slater should have said was...if I may quote Billy Madison.."Miss South Carolina, what you've just said is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent response were you even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul." My God. That would have fit perfectly.

One other question I have, however, is...exactly which poll was it that reported 1/5 of its participants couldn't locate the U.S. on a world map!? Who the hell did they poll? We need to find these people before they do something harmful to the American population - such as, such as, such as like - reproduce!