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Oct 17, 2002

Oh yeah, Kelly? You think your singing/songwriting is so great? Well, I think it's time for a good old-fashioned Battle of the Singer/Songwriters!

This is a little fifties-style bangly-piano routine.

You...
...Ten...
...Sill...!

Oh well I'm riding up to school
And I think I'm really cool
And I'm list'ning to the Rat Pack
But I look into my backpack
My utensil!
OH WHERE is my utensil!?
Oh yeah we're cruisin' by the landfill
And I just can't find my pencil
My utensil!
OOH-AHH!

Oh well I'm standing in the line
Getting food while pressed for time
And I fork over the cash
To the table I then dash but
A utensil!
FORGOT my damn utensil!
Oh how am I to eat my pork
If I do not have a spork?
My utensil!
OOH-AHH!

You may think that I'm off my gourd
Or you may think that I'm just too bored
But it really doesn't matter
Think what you may
Because I know the true-life story of the
NO-U-TEN-SIL-DAAAAY!

I'm with my lady after dark
In the back seat of her car
But when I have unzipped my fly
All that pops out is a sigh
My utensil!
OH WHERE is my utensil!?
All I can do is look forlorn
I swear that it was there this morn!
My utensil!
…Oh my utensil!
…Where's my utensil?
Utensil!

OK, maybe you win.
Nick ::: 6:10 PM ::: 0 comments

I saw the following sign posted in a bathroom yesterday, and wrote it down in my PDA so I could quote it verbatim.

"PLEASE"
NO SMOKEING IN RESTROOM AREA.
SMOKE MAY SET OFF ALARM AND SPRINKLER SYSTEM:
THANK YOU:

Thats "just" pathetic:
Nick ::: 5:52 PM ::: 0 comments

Oct 16, 2002

Drew, how much do you earn from your tutoring job? See, I've been offered a similar position, so I figure I'll cut your rates in half and charge that.

After all, you get what you pay for.
Nick ::: 9:05 PM ::: 0 comments

NOTE: I actually wrote this last night, but round about the peanut butter sandwich, my stupid "bedtime" came and went. Dad got really pissy because it's the sort of meaningless thing he likes to get pissy about. In response to my statement that I was going to finish what I'd started before 10:30, he rather maturely disconnected me from the computer network so that I could finish the post, but not actually post it. Of course, because I finished my thought anyway just as I said I would, this didn't actually get me to bed any sooner, it just forced me to save the composition and post it today. Don't even get me started -- this may not be a big deal, but after a while it gets bloody annoying.

Today, for the first time, I yearned for a car. Don't get me wrong -- I've wanted a car for some time. I've wistfully wished I didn't have to mooch rides off of people. I've grouchily groused about being stuck at home all the time. But today, I yearned. I'm talking quiet, emo longing here. I'll work up to this point.

Today all the Seniors got to skip except for the Friedmanites, the hopelessly anal, the children of the overly suspicious, and assorted other unfortunates. I personally faced a day of almost unmitigated relaxation.

I had to wake up early, though. My dad knocked on my door as he was leaving to ask if I was up yet. I groggily reminded him of the date, and he somewhat sheepishly wished me a good (early) morning. On weekends, I sometimes like to lay in bed drifting in and out of consciousness for hours, but I instinctively knew that I wouldn't be able to accomplish this on a weekday. Instead, I listened to disc two of Pulse, the live recording of the last Pink Floyd American tour, which I was lucky enough to attend at the ripe old age of nine. I listened, smiling, and daydreamed about that concert -- undoubtedly the coolest I've ever seen, and probably that I ever will. To quote my dad, "How do you put a 50-foot-diameter disco ball that blossoms into a flower into words?"

So I got up and played a round of Homeworld: Cataclysm, because I am a dork. I was going to read, but I haven't been able to select an appropriate novel. I did skim through the first story arc of Sandman, but that happened later. After Run Like Hell (an incredible song for an encore, incidentally) ended, I feasted on Golden Grahams and played a round of Perfect Dark, because I continue to be a dork. I also watched Young Frankenstein, thinking about the technical aspects of staging it ... all you Drama Juniors suck! I want so much to play one of those parts -- maybe the inspector or Igor. I ate a peanut butter sandwich just after the "Putting on the Ritz" scene.

At this point in my day, I read the Sandman bit, just to let you know. Then I played a little more Perfect Dark, just to cement myself as a total dork. Then I finished reading Things my girlfriend and I have argued about. Great link, Beth.

I had a Marie Callender's Linguine TV dinner, because this is Dad's symphony night. You may have noticed a pattern in the things I eat when left to myself. Golden Grahams ... PB&Nothing ... TV Dinner. They all take about four seconds' worth of effort to prepare! There is a reason for this, ladies and gentlemen: the less time I spend preparing a meal, the less time I have to screw it all up. The reason I can screw up 3-Minute Ramen Noodles is because they give me a 3-minute window of opportunity. If, say, Ravioli Alfredo with shrimp took only four seconds to prepare, I wouldn't screw it up, no matter how complicated a process the cookery was. I'm fine with complicated. It's this "focusing my attention for dual digits of seconds" thing that doesn't agree with my system. I haven't a domestic bone in my body.

...which brings me to my next event. I emptied my wastebasket into a trashbag, necessitating a trip to the dumpster. As I walked out, I reflected on Tuesdays. You never notice this, but Tuesdays are dead. Nothing happens on Tuesdays. It's the day after dreaded Monday, but you aren't seeing the Friday at the end of the tunnel yet. It's drizzling and dark, and the world is moody and quiet.

In short, right now is the perfect time to get in your car, maybe with one of your quieter friends but probably alone, and explore the night. I'm talking about abandoning the wide, arterial pathways in favor of smaller, more intricate side streets and byways: heading nowhere and getting there quickly. This is the sort of night which affords you the opportunity to discover a secret or invent a mystery.

This is why today I yearned for a car.
Nick ::: 8:57 PM ::: 0 comments

Oct 14, 2002

I wrote a song. Feel free to tell me how much it sucks.

It's called "Issues" or something like that.

She's a bitter girl
Listenin' to punk rock singers
Who hate the world

She's a lesbian
At least that's what she hopes
Will attract the men

Well I really don't care
Not a little bit
'Cause you just don't matter
And you don't know shit
But it's safe to assume
That you will be there
With your empty head
And your spray paint hair

He's an angry man
He will blame whoever is
Close at hand

Got a bone to pick
With his dad just like that
Freudian shtick

When will they learn
The world can turn
Without them there
Without them there
They just go on
And on and on
But we don't care
But we don't care
One day they'll find
They're out of time
But unaware
But unaware
And then they're gone
Stifle a yawn
And life goes
On

She's a bleeding heart
Everyone's in need -- she don't know
Where to start

Save the trees and the whales
But she hasn't got the brains to
Save herself

He's a man in need
Of some nice hard liquor
And a little weed

Says "expand your mind"
But his own keeps shrinking
Each time he unwinds

Well I really don't care
Not a little bit
'Cause you just don't matter
And you don't know shit
But it's safe to assume
that you will be there
With your empty head
And baggage to share

'Cause you really don't care
Not even at all
About the people you'll hurt
On the day you fall
But it's safe to assume
That I will be there
When you're dead and gone
And no one cares

Please realize that most of the opinions in that song aren't even mine. I'm lucky if I can get a song to rhyme, much less make any sense. I went with whatever would do both to an appreciable degree.
Nick ::: 10:07 PM ::: 0 comments

Oct 13, 2002

The Responsive Blog!

Yeah, Bethany, I saw that Chase had started blogging again. I had thought that one of our noble number had shaken off the burden of this fad...but the Blog is not easily cast aside.

Awesome Gandalf quote, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Linked. That's a lot of why I'm still on the fence as far as the Iraqi Attaqi is concerned -- Saddam's offenses are a decade old, and while it wouldn't really be right if he went unpunished, it wouldn't really be right to suddenly attack him now. I mean, we might as well attack France for invading Britain when we were a wee country.

On the topic of world events...we're back on the Human Rights commission this year. Take that, Syria!

I love Almost Famous too, Sarah. I think everybody does.

Yes, Laura, let's get high.

Everyone in the world should read Kelly's Bethany poem. It's very funny. I wish I could write smart funny poetry like that. *smacks forehead* OW!
Nick ::: 3:03 PM ::: 0 comments