To be, or to get.

I don't like to be drunk; I like to get drunk.
I don't like to be down; I like to get down.
I don't like to be ass; I like to get ass. [To be fair, this last one was a Mad-lib, and who doesn't choose some synonym for ass at least once, if not more, per Mad-lib?]

Third Annual Homestead Halloween Bash (2)

FutureSex/LoveSounds

JT, why did this song not make your album?

The same joke twice

I first encountered Arj Barker... shit, who knows. But I'll never forget arjbarker.com... You see, one time Arj Barker had a problem with his website, arjbarker.com. So he called his webmaster. And all he could hear was, "feiopavhigufhalfkasdhvlkajhe" because Spiderman forgot to take his fucking mask off.
Enjoy.

Yeah, Arj comes with a pretty solid recommendation. Almost as high as Mitch Hedberg; but then again, who could be that high? Throckmorton Theatre? Small world, eh?

Speaking of my birthday...

Chitard (2)

Shortly after writing about chitard (and enjoying some chitard with fried chicken), I watched this. Don't watch this if you're eating chitard. Or at all for that matter.

Third Annual Homestead Halloween Bash (1)

Remember when:




Well, that's the invite. Expect soon the aftermath.

Chitard

Some may be familiar with,mayup, the tasty combination of mayonnaise and ketchup. Some might be fond of santorum, the frothy mixture of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the byproduct of anal sex. I would like to introduce to you now chitard (pronounced chee-tard).


Chitard is nothing more than the combination of regular ol' yellow mustard and unnecessarily large amounts of chili powder.

Some suggest cleaning their sushi mouths with pickled. Some assholes like their bone-dry vodka martinis with a twist of lemon on the rim of their glass. Some morons will pay $55 for fresh ground truffles on their mac n' cheese.
I'd suggest to truly appreciate the complex chitard flavor explosion, one should skip dinner, have a bunch of drinks, then grease up some french fries.

Enjoy!

Bill

HR Puffnstuff

Juicy Juice

Juicy Juice is too damn juicy. I want regular juice.

Jerky

This ain't a diary, so I'm going to spare the details of a lengthy yesterday. But I did drink until I threw up, and I did take a picture of it.

I woke up this morning with a screaming headache, and while I'd like to cure it properly, I have more shit to do today. Of course, the first thought that crosses anyone's mind after they decide what they can and cannot do (and that they won't let what they can't do stop them from doing what they can), is to examine last night's folly, and determine exactly what the contents of one's stomach at one time were. That certainly wasn't Wendy's, and I'm pretty sure there was more volume than the 7 cheeze doodles I ate at the bar while talking to a Russian guy from Huron, Ohio about State College, Pennsylvania and the football formations that Syracuse used to use when Jim Brown who was a better lacrosse than football player was there. *deep breath*

Then I sit down at my computer, I find what a hope is a [SWEET!!!! I just found a Redbull-unopened] beverage of some kind. Then I notice an empty package of Pemmican Premium thick cut beef jerky -- all 8 ounces of it, I bet, are now in the garbage can. It was probably the booze, but one can't help but to wonder... 8 ounces is a lot of steak -- but eight ounces of jerky?

In front of an audience

Part of what I do involves being in front of an audience. Teaching is a lot like performing stand-up. People paid a lot of money to hear you talk, you do the same thing over and over, your material sucks, and the audience is probably drunk.



Well, we get heckled, too. But we don't generally hear "you suck" to our faces. I'd think it quite refreshing. We don't generally get to drink beer while we act. I'd think it quite refreshing. We don't generally get to tell our students that we'd like to wrap our cocks around their necks and start them like fucking lawn mowers. I'd think it...

But the most refreshing part is the fact that we do it for a reason. The same reason Joe Rogan still does it even after Fear Factor. The same reason Jerry does it after Seinfeld. The same reason they all do it.

The chicks.

Or, perhaps, there is an alternative. We may think that someone wants... nay, needs to hear what we have to say. Somehow, our thoughts may inspire someone. A bad day ends with one kind or funny word. A brief moment of enlightenment when someone acknowledges that they are, in fact, correct -- when their whole life people have been telling them they're wrong. Well, my friends, to quote Jack Terricloth, "The world is a stage dive." Although it may not be yours, what are you going to do in front on an audience? I just hope they catch me.

By the way, I don't think I love my job.

Making the mundane interesting

Cats, cover your poop.

Where I brush.

Life is made up of moments. <-- Vacuous statement. Life is made up of special moments. <-- Greeting card / Cheap Bourbon statement. Life is made up of many special moments. <-- Bullshit statement. Life is made up of many interest payments. <-- Credit card statement.

I'm not sure how to classify this moment. I was attempting to use the tube in the middle (the green one), when I noticed two other tubes sitting near the faucet (the light blue Crest tube two to the left and the large-capped Aquafresh two to the right. The Prevident (one to the right) was on the shelf below the medicine cabinet. There rest of the tubes were in the medicine cabinet. There are four more tubes in our other bathroom, 2 more in the closet in this bathroom, and at least one more in my travel kit in my bedroom.

How many is too many?

Few things beat a proper death pose.

Society has always scorned those who at least have chicken

Two videos that should never be forgotten:

Wage your own epic battle.



>It's ok if you don't get it.

Talking with the bar staff

Some people asked for this: 8 things you should never say to your bartender. Technically, this should be 8 things you should never say to a bartender. If he/she's your bartender, you can get away with saying them, but you should expect spit in your drink... and you should be greatful to drink it.

1. What should I have?
2. Surprise me!
3. Make it strong.
4. Want to hear a joke?
5. What's going on in town tonight?
6. A twist of lime.
7. Olive Stuffed with bleu Cheese [OH! Some POS gave me one of these in A.C. without my knowing... I had a spit take on the bar and nearly vomitted.]
8. This vodka martini isn't dry enough

But two nights ago as I'm sipping my club soda talking about standard deviation, someone approaches the bar and says something which I'm sure would be in the appendix of the list. I felt bad for publicly shaming the guy for acting as such, but after he got carded he begins, "I have a drink in mind... equal parts blah blah blah..." at which point I respond something to the effect of, "yeah, hey Kim, can I have a drink with equal parts fresh mint, chianti and tomato puree... and make it dirty."

It's our bar. MBA's, I don't care if you're wrapping up your semester and you're the future big swinging dicks of the Hartford/Stamford insurance scene. That's fine, but, boy, if you haven't learned bar etiquette by now, you might as well save your breath, order a cosmo, let me laugh at you for that, too... because your boss sure as hell will.

What I do.

About a year ago, I spent a couple weeks having a dialogue with someone from Human Subjects. It seems the Internal Review Board thought I was discriminating against people that were not Christian by conducting a study on proselytism with the focus being on Christianity. I was baffled. They wanted me to outline the purpose of the study before having them read the stimulus and complete the measures. This is clearly going to fuck the whole thing up. The dialogue continued like I said for a couple weeks. The resolution: including only the phrase "sensitive social issues" in the consent form. Easy enough, but of course, it took a long time to get there.

It took nearly no time to get the stimulus for this model approved:


Same for this one:


Hell, my first study was secretly titled It's hard for you to tell me what to do with my dick in your mouth. We collected and analyzed data in a single semester.

How long do you suppose it will take to get the appropriate stimulus for this model approved?

Big news day

How is this not bigger news? It's probably a hoax, but how about it?

In other news:
This guy is a nut job. By his logic, literally, everything is equal. I like the idea that everything is equal, but no, I'm sorry. He's wrong.

And lastly,



"If the Internet was real" parodies are no longer novel. Yet why are they so compelling? If they always end up saying the same thing, why are they so interesting?

Selfishness and socks

I think I'm a selfish person because, among other things, I don't keep in touch with my friends and family that aren't around here as much as I should. "As much as I should" makes this a subjective comparison, which is not really normative, therefore, even if I find out that others keep in touch less, I'm still a selfish bastard.

I put on a pair of socks today that were really nice. The right size, the right thickness, the right texture. The toes were gold, but I'm not sure if they're Gold Toe.

...

The sock thing warrants further investigation.

Epiphanies and ice cream

"Against the nature, against the grain. For as long and as far as you can." -Gogol Bordello

Fighting the good fight, which always seems against the nature and against the grain.

I haven't had an epiphany in a while, but I could sure use one. They're helpful, they're motivational, and I've heard they're good sprinkled on top of egg nog. And I'm not talking major epiphany here. I'm talking, like, a "no shit?" epiphany. Like "dogs can't look up" or "elephants can't jump" or "assesses is composed of more than 50% 's'." I'm not going to turn away one of those "your life has meaning" or "you're doomed to live and die alone" kind of epiphanies either. I'm willing to acknowledge on a practical/functional/utilitarian level that we're all searching for meaning in our lives, and I'm pretty sure we need a balanced diet of personal discoveries. Eating the entire pint of Ben and Jerry's. Having a salad every now and then. Get the 6oz. filet instead of the 10oz. Cutting the Maker's Mark with a little club soda... whatever it takes. At this point, as I dreamt last night, I could use a swig of isopropyl. Just a taste of epiphany, I won't complain. Fuck that, I probably will.

And the epiphany now comes: "Eating the entire pint of Ben and Jerry's" is an example I legitimately used to describe gluttony. An extreme dietary faux pas. For fuck's sake, seriously? My god... what has become of me. 2 pints, whatever. This is spiraling out of control. A plain metaphor gone horribly awry with a The-View-esque reference to ice cream. How boring and out of touch have I become that I use a metaphor not fit for cretins.

Nonetheless, it looks like, at least from the trash I saw on the steps, that Ben and Jerry's is bringing back my second favorite flavor of ice cream... the cinnamon ice cream and oatmeal creampie.

Second epiphany: my life is boring and depressing if I take pictures of this shit.

Third epiphany: my life is exciting and wonderful if I get me some of that ice cream.

When does stuff get done?

The scissors are still on the sill.

Zombie chickens

I border on obsessed with some things, zombies being one of them.

This is a disgrace. Voodoo zombies and other such "zombies" such as these zombie chickens aren't even zombies. Pfft. Still, it's good to see news agencies are staying on their toes with the zombie information. Perhaps mercury news will let us know about the zombie apocalypse soon enough to avoid a worldwide disaster... or at least soon enough so that I can survive.

Where I pee.

Where I live (addendum).


There is a window in the bathroom of my office. And there is also a shower/tub, but that has been addressed already. There is a window, and that window remains open as there is no air freshner, nor an electrical outlet which would nicely accept a Glade plug-in. The walls are not well insulated. There is a radiator immediately to the left of the toilet (right if you're deucing) that indicates winter has come when you burn your leg on it.


Of greater interest to me are the giant rusty scissors that are now sitting on the sill. They're old -- the kind with the painted on rubber handle. The kind with a loose screw in the middle. The kind that look like they'd make for better stabbing than for those cute snowflake cut-outs.

This is where I live.

Where I live.

To give some context to my life, I've said the following things today to my colleagues in the office or to my students in the classroom:

"Imagine you're me. You doing it? If you're not feeling a sense of apathy and boredom, you're not doing it right."
"I'm ethical enough to not-kill most of my subjects."
"Look, we're not here to argue the lickability of your balls."
"They may have been YOUR students, but they gave ME the dog."

This is not meant to be a list of random shit inside joke quotes. In all cases were there actual academic/professional propositions being articulated. It's just an unfortunate circumstance of working in a place with no proper social rules or order.

This is the same place where someone reported having seen a naked woman in the bathroom at 4am. I think I was actually here at the time, but the details are limited. I also ask the question: how does one "see" someone naked in the bathroom, apparently taking a shower. The way I see it, there are really only two ways: 1. you walk in on them (with the bathroom door unlocked), or 2. you see them through the window. In either case, I'm not so sure it's really inappropriate. At any rate, it caused enough of a stir to force them to re-key our building... without giving us keys. How's that for a rainy fucking Friday? This naked woman, incidentally, almost earned a spot along with the mysterious Chupacabra as another of our office mates -- complete with office hours. But considering those in charge haven't realized that they've got the wrong building, we're trying to keep the jokes between ourselves.

This is the same place where the first thing you see when walking up the stairs is a six-foot Spiderman nailed to the wall.
This is the same place where Kiss is followed by "One Night in Bangkok" on the stereo.
This is the same place where the printer is always out of toner, no one knows the password to check the voicemail, and only two people can be connected to the Internet at any given time.

This is the Anomie Lab. I live here.

Off the ground

I suggested starting a blog. The motion was seconded and now it's off the ground. Godspeed.