Dayum

Just a few notes about last night.

At a bar my friend AA had some some dude hitting on her and she wasn't feeling it. So she says I am her b/f. He's a very large black man and asks me something like "Is this you're first time dating a Nubian princess?" Alice, btw, is from Ghana. I apparently didn't sell the whole b/f thing very well and he told me to look him in his eye with my glasses off and say that she's my g/f. Btw, this was all pretty playful. It's not like this was some sort of confrontation. He then said he believed me and that I look like a "cage fighter" with my glasses off.

I lost my shirt. Literally. T'was just a plain white work shirt. Oh well. It had a small hole in it anyhow.

I lost my shirt. Figuratively. I somehow managed to spend $100 and so many people were buying me drinks.

Last night was the most fun I've had in a while. Today was the worst hangover I've had in a while.

Sleeping in a bed is nice.

Carney

You know that creepy roller coaster that you were scared of as a kid? You loved going to the amusement park and riding all the big rides and weren't afraid of any of them. But there was that one ride that just wasn't right. It was like 100 years old, rotting and rickety. The guy who ran the controls looked like he was a chromosome short of a bakers dozen. When you were on it you were amazed and frightened about how fast it went. It wasn't as fast as the other rides, but it appeared really fast and quick because it was made out of rotting wood. Things made out of rotting wood shouldn't move that fast. But the smoothness of the ride surely wasn't deceptive. They should've name it The Chiropractor. Half the time it wasn't even operational because it was broken down or being repaired. And you alllways get stuck next to the fat guy. So on the turns you almost get turned into a singularity. That, my friends, is basically the El.

Ok, I promise this is the last time I bitch about the El. Unless something ridiculous happened. So today on my way to work the cars in front of us lost power. We sat there for almost 2 hours. It was sooo crowded. Im not claustrophobic or anything, but I about went mad. There was a time where I almost went ape on everyone's asses. I so badly wanted to start flailing and punching/biting anything I saw. It was miserable. So after some further complications, walking, and transferring I got into work 3 hours late. Clownshoes.

Canned Ham

So I looked in my Gmail spam folder today and its contents were amusing. Among the 30-odd messages involving f-ing this or f-ing that or "s1uts" or V14gr4 was an interesting e-mail from someone named Glenna Delaney. Apparently she wants me to "suck her catling." This was all the email said really. So I looked it up and a catling is "a long double-edged knife used for amputations." W. T. F. So I replied with the following:

Ms. Delaney,

I greatly appreciate your offer to suckle on the surgical intrument in question. Regretfully, I have decided to decline. However, if you are an amputee I would be quite interested in getting a piece of that proverbial ass. I'm into that sort of thing.

Cheers,
J-Money

I'm still waiting for a response. She may be "the one."

Canned Ham

So I looked in my Gmail spam folder today and its contents were amusing. Among the 30-odd messages involving f-ing this or f-ing that or "s1uts" or V14gr4 was an interesting e-mail from someone named Glenna Delaney. Apparently she wants me to "suck her catling." This was all the email said really. So I looked it up and a catling is "a long double-edged knife used for amputations." W. T. F. So I replied with the following:

Ms. Delaney,

I greatly appreciate your offer to suckle on the surgical intrument in question. Regretfully, I have decided to decline. However, if you are an amputee I would be quite interested in getting a piece of that proverbial ass. I'm into that sort of thing.

Cheers,
J-Money

I'm still waiting for a response. She may be "the one."

It's like, ubiquitous.

Typically, the excessive use of the word "like" is associated primarily with airheaded valley girls. However, it's pretty ridiculous how much basically every person under 25/30ish uses the word in conversation. I feel like most people don't even notice it these days. If you pay attention you'll find a large portion of people use it in over a third of their sentences. If not more. Top 3 things often replaced by "like" or some phrase using "like":

• Said. "And then I was like 'That is a pretty tall midget!'"
• Pause/sentence reset/nothing. "So I mean, like, necrophilia isn't even illegal in Wisconsin."
• Thinking. "Then I drank 2 extreme rock heads and was all like 'I should punch this cop in the larynx'"

Don't get me wrong, I'm actually somewhat okay with how much it's used. The implied definition of the word is understood and it works well in very casual conversation. Voice inflections and context make it obvious what the speaker means. Plus it's hard to notice anyway.

Btw, the girl in the picture is my ideal future child and will "clap your monkey-ass." Wu-Tang!

Bottle full of bub

I'm apologize for the continued bitching about the el. However, just when I thought the train couldn't get any worse... There was some sort of a delay today with the brown line so there were extra people. I didn't think that you could fit that many people into a space that size. Thow on some house music, strobe lights, and put a creepy middle-aged guy in the corner (oh wait, nm, there were a few of those), and we've got the hottest night club in the chi. The grinding was provided by the continuous turning and stopping. Ugh. The girl next to me (i.e., on top of me) was attractive but looked sorta trampy. I hope I didn't get an STD.

Today the soil is healthier though the farmer planted aggressively.

Wow, pretty interesting weekend. There's a lot to talk about but I want to focus on the MSU game. MSU is tied for second on my "most hated ND opponents" list. They're tied with Michigan and behind USC. Anyhow, as a little background for yall who don't know, they're pretty much assholes. And on top of that, their coach said something along lines of "the thing that bothered me most about the flag-planting is that they didn't even do it on the 50 yd line. We were 15 yards off! Haha." HAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO. I am not amused. Neither is the rest of the ND nation. So, needless to say, I was ready to go at gametime. I was so pumped I almost Zidane'd my hamster.

But anyhow, before I finish my first Silver Bullet, we're down 17-0 and I'm bummed. (Btw, I think I'm conviced these days that Stones > Bullets, but that's another topic for another day.) My friend and pseudo-roommate Mike, like a skilled ER surgeon reacting to a crisis, knew exactly what needed to be done. Before I knew it, I had an ice-cold Sparks in my hands. For those of you who don't know, Sparks is pretty much a high-rent, carbonated, energy bum wine. It's prostitute-killing juice. Or, more accurately, prostitute-killing fuel. Whoever thought it was a good idea to combine drunkedness and hyperness into one conveniently packaged unit was right. It is a good idea. But I've digressed.

So we're down big and the only way I can handle it is through the sweet relief of drank. Without boring the Blogation Nation with the details, we were down 17 with like 8 minutes left and scored 3 TDs to win the game. It was such a rollercoaster of a game. All of us were cursing, high-fiving (Because we're white. That's what white people do), hugging, etc throughout. Most of this stuff would be considered somewhat homo-erotic in any other situation. Thank God we won. See picture of MSU players guarding their "S" so that we wouldn't plant our flag. Pshhh. So afterwards we hit up some local bars. We met up with some dude with long hair (I don't remember his name b/c I was wasted), his gf, and her supposedly hot friends. Yeah, they were pretty hot if you're into the sloth types. I'm sorry if that's mean. Well... not really. On the way back I ended up buying more Sparks for some reason, drank some, and then went to sleep. I was hungover alllll Sunday. Frownyface.

P.S., Don't worry about the post title. It's some quote I heard and I put it up there to be cryptic.

Bust it.


Ok, apparently the substance of this blog has hit an all-time low. Hopefully it will go up. But don't count on it.

Back Like Cooked Crack

Ok, so the spell check on this piece doesn't recognize "blog" as a word... You've got to be kidding me.

I take the (h)EL(l) to work.

The picture to the right is my perspective during the glorious ride to work, a.k.a. the trail of tears (is that insensitive?). It's named the brown line because it's shitty. Notice the various crotches in other people's hands and/or grills. This picture doesn't even really do it justice. I was literally almost hanging out the door. It gets crowded to the point where people get stuck in the middle and can't find anything to hold on to. So when your cracked-out engineer (I can't think of a better word) thinks it's funny to hit the turn at ludicrous speed, everyone gets pwned. Coffee goes flying. People go flying. Etc. The commute is definitely the worst part of my day. I'm sure it gets much better in the winter.....

The E

As I was in my typical 5 o'clock space-out mode, staring into the gridded liquid crystals of the E (i.e., Excel, for all you proles out there), I realized something. You ain't cool unless you talk with Excel shortcuts. As an example:

So I ctrl+x out of the apt at 8am and I F5 the el. It's so packed that I wanna alt+i+r of bullets into someone. I manage to keep my alt+i+m's to myself. I get off the train and F9 how much time I have. I F4 my F9 on the elevator. I ctrl+o my ctrl+8 for the day... etc, etc.

FYI:
ctrl+x = cut
F5 = goto
alt+i+r = insert a row
alt+i+m = comment
F9 = calculate
F4 = repeat
ctrl+o = open
ctrl+8 = outline

Obviously that was nerdier than a Star Trek vs. Star Wars themed chess set. At least I realize that.

So, if talking with Excel shortcuts is cool, consider me Miles Davis.

Alllll Aboard!

Ok friends, if you're keeping count this is my 3rd time starting up a new blog/journal. I think my previous failures are mainly due to the fact that they were technically 'journals' and I felt pressured to update them often and write about my life. However, since I'm a flake and my life is ridiculously boring 99% of the time I just gave up. The title of 'blog' allows room for more flakiness and posts with me just bitching about stuff (which you know I like to do). So increase the life expectancy of this one.

A few groundrules:

• I donut know how 2 spel or use gramar correctively and never wheell. So deal with it. And don't correct me.
• You'll realize quickly that this blog sucks and is really boring. And it's all pretty much stream-of-consciousness. Well, it's primarily for my own entertainment so I don't care what you think.

Important note on the name:
Technically the name "Blogation Station" has been used before. However, none of these blogs are active and pretty much suck. Also, most of The Blogation Nation [that's what I will be calling my failthful readers. All 3 of you (if I'm lucky.)] knows that I own the intellectual property of adding "-ation station" to just about anything. Hrm, perhaps "intellectual" is a misnomer.

Anyhow, it takes a lot of sleep maintaining this beauty. Zip it up, and zip it out!