Waffle Maligner

One class down, 5 billion to go!

Stat. Anal. was fine today, with the exception of there being far too many tables in the classroom, so many scrunched together that many went unused and people sat on the floor near the door because it was impossible to get to some tables because of the blocking thing that happens when too many tables are in a room. Did reading that last sentence suck? It should have: I was trying to convey the clusterfuck feel of sitting in a room with too many tables.

Thing sucky #2: the chairs are mismatched with the tables. By this I mean that it is hard to sit comfortably and write, for the table is too high! This is a pain in the, well, all over the body after about 30 minutes. After 2 hours? You start double-checking your chiropractor co-pay online and swearing like Kasey Kasem under your breath.

#3= the professor was 20 minutes late. First day of class. 20 minutes late.

4: the professor was very quiet. I like to sit kinda near the back, in the middle, for the sweeping vistas that can be had. Now I will have to get to class early and jockey for a front row seat so I can hear the damned man!

5er- the building is very creepy and decrepit. This is the Chemistry building, for god's sake! There are chemicals everywhere, dirty instruments, classrooms boiling over with crusty casks, broken beakers, cobwebs, flickering lights, oozing tubes of who-the-fuck-knows... Jesus PSU, pick yourself up and take a deep drong look at your goddamned self! You are charging me $600 a class! At least you can brush your teeth before our date. It's a bit pathetic.

Well, the girls are cute, the guys are total doofuses, so at least I get a little cutey-pie attention, although with this new beard it's a whole different spectrum of females. And, oddly enough, a whole new spectrum of guys too.

If anyone wants me to explain standard deviation, I can do that for you.

From the pen of Nokolai Gogol

To such worthlessness, pettiness, vileness a man can descend! So changed he can become! Does this resemble the truth? Everything resembles the truth, everything can happen to a man. The now ardent youth would jump back in horror if he were shown his own portrait in old age. So take with you on your way, as you pass from youth's tender years into stern, hardening manhood, take with you every humane impulse, do not leave them by the wayside, you will not pick them up later! Terrible, dreadful old age looms ahead, and nothing does it give back again! The grave is more merciful, on the grave it will be written: "Here lies a man!" - but nothing can be read in the cold, unfeeling features of inhuman old age.

It's thickest right here...

Hi fellow goons, it's been quite a meaty day, with waffles at the top. Shared a pollo chimichanga with my eldest progeny, studied differential equations, slung dirt (both real and social), watched too much Ali G, inhaled too much burnt rubber, ate some wonderful watermelon and rode my bike hard. Who ever said I was a slacker?

I don't relate to slackers, or hipsters, or yuppies, but I get that a lot from people in the habit of looking down on others. I saw an anti-hipster Adbusters and it gave me pause. Isn't that their main audience? I'm confused now. I guess hipsters make me a little uncomfortable too, but I'm not going to dedicate an issue to them. Even if I had issues to dedicate. I'm just confused- doesn't everyone have better things to do than to look and act like everyone else? Get a goddamned sewing machine, buy plain clothes and take a running leap. Seriously, just falling bodily on the machine will impart a dadaist coil to your newfangled clothing and you will not look like anyone else. Now the acting part, that's the tought part... oh that's funny, blogspot will correct my spelling on words like "chimichanga" but "tought" is okay? Hah, as soon as I typed "tought" in quotes the "misspelt" word underline disappeared! Wow, this has degenerated into navel gazing quite unfortunately.

Watched the first episode of Dexter the other night. I thought it was pretty swell. I like the main actor dude, the gay brother from 6 Feet Under. He's pretty fucking good. I'm noticing with TV shows though, there's always a cadre of good actors (sometimes just 1) and then there's... the bad guys. I think Tootie is in Dexter! Let me check... nope, not Tootie. Pretty damn close though.

Been hooked on these: http://www.willitblend.com/videos.aspx?type=unsafe&video=chuck . Seriously, watch one. You'll want to watch them all. There's something about watching things spinning to oblivion. I think my favorite, as far as concepts go, is the Rubik's Cube. Next I would like to see the BlendTech blend an inferior blender... yum. I like how the guy says "Bad Guy smoke... don't breathe that." when he opens the blender top. He will be dead within 5 years of the most horrific lung problems the world has seen since WWII.

I'm getting a little nervous about school- this is my last semester of math classes. I am specifically taking a lighter load so I can ace everything and be done with math classes... FOREVER. Don't get me wrong, I like math, but the classes are so over the top, especially at this level, you are learning things that you will almost surely never need to know, but you have to be able to show that you've grasped the concepts. It will be nice when I'm working and I encounter problems that are easy in comparison to the shit I've been doing. Ahh, I can hear my heels hitting the marble countertop now...

G'Night!

Love Ya Burt

Steam Flows Uphill Past the Stream

A tremendous crash. My head snaps up from the pillow. It's morning because the light is bluely snaking around the tapestry on the window. After the sound of the crash slowly dies in my head the sound of small girls giggling begins to fill it. I throw the sheets aside with gusto and pop out of bed with a dream-enhanced, breakfast-eating grin on my face. My wife is standing there with her arms crossed, staring at me pleasantly.

How do your mornings go these days? Everyone's mornings are slightly different, right? Even from day to day, my mornings differ. If I can master the wake-up, I feel I can master the day.

March 18, 2003:

Weird thoughts today: I thought that a toilet seat that I had sprinkled a little pee on was following me from bathroom to bathroom down I-5- that spot of sprinkled pee was in the same place- but I shook the thought off; while driving I imagined what it would be like to drive over a dead body, mangles and meat in the road, a human body.

March 19, 2003:

I can only writhe across my life, spitting curdled milk, screaming with clotted blood shooting from my throat, I am unhappy. It becomes apparent when the candy-clotted haze lifts and everyone's spite shows through. I have no faith in humans. I have nothing but instant mistrust, hatred, recoilingness, disgust, aversion. Even those I purport to love can, in a moment, become an enemy. No human is beyond the reach of putrescence and shit. It must be said: I am the only one who matters in this horrid game, my pleasure the only measure. Sure solipsism rears its ugly head, but to whom is it ugly, fucker? In a world with no mirrors, the solipsist is always right.


I want to crush every little fucking thing between my stone hands. I will then smile benignly at the wasted crumpled bones that writhe there under the weight of exiting marrow. I will smile and vomit my love in to my palms and rub the broken nothings back into existence where they will sit and be completely silent forever, happy in an existence which consists solely of watching my charmed life and the beauty and purity that shoots in and out of my every pore and orifice.

Penis smock penis frock

Hands down, one of the best menatl in a long while, Allen.

Coming from that direction of speed I thought the blast of shell
was Japanese or permanetnt, but perinitely, yes things are laid.

Planned to make quiche, made mushrooms and protestant pamphlets

Gored Melancon Baron Puddle-Maps Behringer 27, Glocksman Channel

Toad tipped fingernails ovary o very Lee oy vay! et verily...

pointed out every simple dent in the Goddamned thing, kicking my tir

Mammoth galloping down Gullery Row in Greenwich, I swore to death
at the mixed up space crackers defending obartine philanthropisseds

second gate opens moored shiling deflated kite sac bent in unorigi nal duress
bent in objectionable directions bent towards a worse overhead fan
bent slightly upwards, with, i swear, a horrible disgusting smile
painted on it pushin Bentweed fluffing sidewalkways from the grinning
garbageman's house, bent in ungodly stupor over the pool of tea
bent obscenely up inside an adverb bent gay
bent meatlessly into the tub of bones bent bonelessly into the

whitened crag of burns

bent hunched, parts in the cheeselike rock pores, riddled
with parched caves and char, other parts
gracing gliding through the tough leathery air
describing flesh loops and architecture
from Palagul-2#4#, bent hurting through life

bent, normally bent, finding that his silence

Bent rudely into the crystal bowl of marzipan. she saw this from
the mushroom and marmalade gazebo where the ju ju pops sat in a wardrobe of
ice and pubic hair, I saw her bending formard to mea sure his angle
of departure from decoroum, coloured decoroum my dearest

insitent, even bent upon driving the car directly into the jail wall

there in the milky way hitting the cliff I saw a mewling

soul in her eyes, the trembling skin of her pale

puncturing eyeball, a quivering bared beauty trembled with even
more shimmer there directly in her eye socket, was it a beauty?
yes
but there was a snake of steel
there was blood
the red and white things in her eyes

arose
and paled the blue furthest to black

I kissed her then
and we danced off the cliff

Endeavoring to Gild the Lily

School starts in two weeks. Calc IV, Differential Equations and Statistical Analysis. Fun.

Hit golf balls yesterday. I am not the next contender for golf champion of the universe, no matter how much I believed I would be. That's a thing about me: I think I will be the best at something until I try it, then I get frustrated and mope. Pretty cute, huh?

Had a little get together the other night. Fire going, beers and wine, conversation, ping pong. It was quite pleasant. We talked a lot about the Terry Gross/Gene Simmons interview, except for a long time in the beginning I was referring to the Terry Gross/Richard Simmons interview. I was set straight, but not before confusing the pants off of some partygoers.

Went to a kids "thang" yesterday with the girls and some friends. There was car painting, bead threading, music, 8mm film loops where you could make your own and they would get spliced into the ongoing loop, dancing. It was mighty fun and the girls had a great time, which was the main thing. I'm having to face the fact that yes, we do have a wonderful house but the girls need to leave it a lot and get out into the world and do things. They get cooped up here and fall into old bad habits; out there, there's new stimuli to interact with. It helps them stay interested.

Then went golfing with Jeff. That was fun and frustrating. What was even more fun was having beers and talking business with him afterwards. We went to Hopworks on Powell- they had some truly awesome beers that they brew right there in the building. Fresh, well made beer is just unlike anything else. We had a bunch of good ideas too... he's been working for some bumbling construction company, so he's got a head full of what not to do, in addition to the construction skills. We both agreed we should probably take some, cringe, business classes. Shiver! But, if you want to run a business, it seems like a thing to do.

Anyway, our business idea is a remodel/new construction company that does green, LEED certified work. We want to be affordable, so we were thinking have a grant writing/finance research arm of the business; do systems design (that'll be me) for high efficiency electrical systems; portfolio research, to determine the best spread of technology to increase home efficiency; and have a good passive solar arm, a group of people who know their passive inside and out and can tell right off the bat what a house needs to run tight. I would also love to have a cool architect on board, someone who can design shit that will constantly remind the owner that their decision to greenify was a great idea, and give them a good feeling inside. So much of this stuff is insulation and shingles, stuff that really only hits once at first and then again every now and then on the energy bill, but you get used to that. I want something, even kinetic would be rad, that reminds the owner that they are on the good-guys side. Something like translucent rainbarrel trombe wall: you see it fill up with rain and retain heat in the winter, instead of all that water going down the drain and the heat bouncing off the wall into the yard. That kind of thing. Jeff also mentioned landscaping, which I just realized is a great external insulator. Lots of research to do, lots to think about. I'm excited! Too bad the renewable energy systems program required me to fucking drive all over town. I'll just have to roll my own.

Here's your eyecandy for the day. Check the rainbow! (This was just randomly found on flickr)

Things Have Changed

Okay, I have made the commenting easier, thanks mom. Now I will get very important penis enlarging spam- good thing, I could use it!

I have decided that I need drugs to function, namely caffiene. I hadn't had it in a few days, and then I had a cup of strong tea this morning and became astounding! I will endeavor to use drugs to my advantage.

All the shit in the universe comes whizzing by

OK

Life just comes faster than I can swing at it! I love it, but there's a part of me that wonders about it all... when the psychiatrist asks me "have you ever considered suicide?" I know how to answer, but really, it's a noble endeavor. Don't worry, I don't have it in me, but as the old song sings, "this world is not my home, this world is not my home, this world is not my home, I'm just passing through."

I was going to put the song up for all you dedicated readers to listen to, but I couldn't find it online and I was prepared to buy it, but I realized I was being ridiculous. If you want to hear the song, it's a beautiful one, it's by His Name Is Alive on their album Stars on ESP. It's a plaintive, evocative, soul scarring song. I believe it's an update on this song. The His Name is Alive song is more apropro. Look for it, and when I get my old cd back I'll put it up here.

Well, I've lost that forlorn feeling now, what with all this YouTuberry, so I'll just end it here. Don't call the men in white coats on me, I'll be fine, to be honest it was just the Bushmills that made me feel pensive, so don't worry about me, you've got much worse problems, I'm sure. To be honest the main thing that's got me down is doing some very unfulfilling and destructive housework, but I need to remember that I've done a lot of good and hard work recently that I should be able to fall back on. I don't know what the medical name for my problem is but maybe we should start a raffle and come up with one. It's basically mental hypochondria, so if you can come up with a pithier title, please do, I'll be indebted to you for that!

Here's a cute thing to keep you from the bottle or the razor:

I'm bad for the planet

Life is hitting overdrive these days, and I'm not helping any! I think about those days of sitting around, staring at the sky, doing nothing (actually I think I only had maybe one or two of those days total). Never again, it seems like. But I don't really want that anyway.

Got a new gas stove at the house, quite exciting, I know.

Going to see Built to Spill tonight if we can, Ratatat tomorrow, early eve, Trans Am and Polvo in the night time, if possible. Full weekend and we found a 15$/night babysitter! Things are looking up!

Anyway, these are missives to myself and I already know all this bullshit so why do I bother, you may ask? Or not, since you don't exist. Well, call it a solipsist's diary. The most futile thing in the universe.

Put on Your Believing Panties

Yesterday was a tough day.

I was convinced our house was poisoning our children and ironically they were acting so badly I was kind of rooting for it to, but quick-like. But it wasn't really them, it was my bad attitude, which didn't help them out, viscous cycle 101. So, we decided to pack everyone up and, that's right, go to the hardware store.

We purchased a wonderful new gas stove. Not the cheapo kinds, but not the ultra-fancy ones either. This one is minimum frills with one big exception: it has a fifth, middle burner. Now, this may not seem like a big deal to those of you who see cooking as a nice smelling punishment (and I count myself in your ranks sometimes), but to people like Corinne, and me vicariously through her delicious dinners, we thought this was a great idea. Now we can do paella, huge gumbos, gigantic soups, all that. Plus, the stovetop is basically one big level hot zone, so you can slide your little cast iron pans over the fire to your heart's content. Come over, we'll feed you.

We also got a wonderful new faucet. The handheld sprayer part is built into the faucet itself, not separate. And it's high loping so you can fit... you guessed it... the soup pot under it! God I'm getting old.