Monday, December 29, 2003


Who would steal an XBOX from a fraternity house on Christmas Day when no one is around?

Someone with a good plan and a lot of balls.

I don't know how to break the news to my roommate whos system it was. He's gonna hate me; I told him I'd watch it for him. Damn! If I ever find that XBOX thief, you can bet your ass I'll give him what for.

Maybe this is just my karma for stealing pumpkins.

Wednesday, December 24, 2003

Christmas Eve

Nothing makes me more depressed than nostalgia.

Tuesday, December 23, 2003

The Past Week in Review

  • My sister was in the hospital with what the doctors initially thought to be apendicidis, but ended up being a kidney infection.
  • I've been working everyday like a sonovabitch.
  • I got $25.00 from my grandparents for Christmas.
  • I've been trying to finish up my Christmas shopping before Thursday.
  • I've been masturbating like no other.
  • I passed all of my classes this semester.

Monday, December 15, 2003

Doesn't Look Good

I just got my final paper back from my Modern American Literature professor. I got an F.

These are my comments on said professor on

Dr. Red is very knowledgable in her field and is well-spoken, but her arrogance and self-importance often get in the way of her teaching. She is very inflexible and unreasonable about dealing with problems pertaining to class work and assignments, and is usually very insensitive about other's opinions, often ridiculing students for even having a differing one. In fact, she values her own opinions so highly that "class discussions" often become lectures with little regard for students' comments.

In this course she based our grade on only three assignments: a notebook, the mid-term paper and the final paper. I think she may also have thrown some arbitrary "participation" grade in there, too. Too few assignments, too shady of a grading system. Take at your own risk.

Finally, a Whiney Post

The only thing worse than taking a final is taking two finals, on the same day, back-to-back, starting at 7:30am, when you stayed up the whole night studying. My head doesn't do statistics or speak Latin very well before noon. In fact, my head doesn't do anything well before noon.

Saturday, December 13, 2003

Psilocybe Mushrooms

Yesterday afternoon I and a few of my friends took some psychoactive mushrooms. The experience was very interesting.

It took about an hour after we ingested them (on peanut butter sandwiches) for them to start taking effect. At first, we were all just pretty tired. Then we started giggling and laughing at anything and everything. It became a little harder to control my movements: my legs were weak and my fine motor skills were all but gone. About a half hour after we started to feel the effects, I decided to do laundry. I needed help starting the washing machine.

About another half hour later, I could feel a difference in my sensations. Lights were different, brighter, moving; they seemed to come toward me. Everything I looked at seemed new and interesting. This is when I decided to pull my clothes out of the washer and put them in the dryer. I stood next to the dryer for probably ten minutes listening to and feeling it hum. It was incredible, so smooth and cold and dead, but so full of energy and alive. I had to pry myself away and go tell the others.

Sometime during this, the others had started to watch "Malrats." I remember seeing the beginning, a few scenes from the middle, and parts of the end, but I don't remember an hour and a half elapsing. From the moment I came back from the dryer until several hours later, when the effects had worn off, I had no perception of time. I kept looking at my watch and I couldn't believe how so much or so little had elapsed since the last time I had looked at it.

Things became so profound. I remember saying, "Everything is the most profound thing I have ever said. Like that, that was the most profound thing I have ever said." Everything was interesting, and I couldn't believe how much I had missed seeing before. It had all always been there, but I just hadn't seen it. Everything was finally real and I could finally see it. Feelings of well-being washed over me in waves.

Then the colors started coming. Like the feelings of well-being, they would also come in and out like the tide. Objects would change from black and white to the most brilliant hues ever seen. Colors and patters that hadn't been there before appeared in the shadows. Light and dark became almost like physical objects, like I could have plucked a handful of light from the room.

I found myself in the living room watching "Lilo & Stitch" with two of my friends, while my other friend talked (to whom, I'm not sure) out of sight in the back room. I started to feel as though the living room was my conscious mind and the darkness in the back room was the depth of my subconscious. I could hear my friend talking back there, as if she was a part of my mind. To further confirm this, my other two friends seemed not to notice her, so I began to realize that she had never even existed. She was a voice in my head. When I told my friends this, they just laughed at me.

I started resent how profound everything was. Then I began to become paranoid that these effects would never wear off, that I was going to be stuck in the living room of my mind forever, but my friends assured me otherwise. I sat in a chair in the living room for probably the last hour of the trip, fearing my fate trapped in my head with all too profound thoughts and ideas. As the effects of the mushrooms wore off, the feelings of paranoia were replaced with feelings of sadness. I was sad that I might never have the insight -- the insight that I had just come to resent -- I had had just a few short hours ago.

About five hours after eating the peanut butter / mushroom sandwiches, the trip ended. I still felt tired and weak, and my joints were a bit stiff, but my perceptions were back to normal. I was still a little bit giggly for another half hour, and I felt cold. All the lights seemed washed out and bland.

All in all, it was an intensely bizarre but pleasurable experience. I wouldn't want to experience it again any time soon, but I wouldn't be opposed to doing it another time. Until then, DON'T DO DRUGS, KIDS.

Tuesday, December 09, 2003


For the next week, most of my posts will probably be whining, droning tripe about how Finals suck and how I hate them and how I don't want to take them and how I've lost so much sleep and how . . .

Well, you'll see.

Monday, December 08, 2003


There was nothing particularly striking about them except they were artist of the kind that talk. Everyone knows of the talking artists. Throughout all of the known history of the world they have gathered in rooms and talked. They talk of art and are passionately, almost feverishly, in earnest about it. They think it matters much more than it does.
--Sherman Anderson, Winesburg, Ohio

Sunday, December 07, 2003


If a pretty young lady at a party comes up to you, pokes your pointy-spike labret, and tells you, "I wonder what it feels like to kiss someone that has a chin piercing," do not shrug your shoulders and then go into a three-minute dissertation about what it felt like to get it pierced; just kiss her. Kiss her, you fucking idiot. *sigh*

Thursday, December 04, 2003

Not Said

The best poems are the ones we never write.

Tuesday, December 02, 2003


Last night I was elected "C" of my fraternity, which is basically the secretary. Great, now I actually have to pay attention during chapter meetings and learn parliamentary procedure to find out what "quorum" and "call to question" mean.

But really, having an executive position will probably be pretty cool. Maybe now I'll actually be informed about what's going on in this fine organization. Maybe.


In Star War, why is it that, on all the zany planets they traversed, out of all the crazy aliens and droids they encountered and the millions of creatures they came in contact with, there was still only one black dude in the whole fucking galaxy?

Monday, December 01, 2003

Thrift Store Formal Wear

Yesterday, Nic-O-Bob Nuffins, Stellar's roommate, gave me a brilliant green Mountain Dew vest that I had been coveting ever since she brought it home from a thrift store two years ago. And last week, one of my friends, Country, bought me jacket that says Toastmaster on it from the Salvation Army. Thrift store clothing is the best!

So anyway, my fraternity's formal is this weekend, and the girl I asked said she doesn't have anything to wear. So, today we're going shopping to see if we can find some matching thrift store formal wear. If I could find a nice plaid green suit, I'd be in heaven.

Update: I just got back from the Salvation Army. . . with the coollest checkered suit jacket, green pants, and orange and blue crop-bottomed skinny tie. And better yet, she bought a skirt that matches my jacket! We are going to be the best-dressed (most obnoxious) people at the formal.

Circa Now