Art of Spitting
Ok I know. Barely anyone spits anymore. I rarely do it. If there is a female within eye/ear shot of my I proudly swallow whatever it is I may try ejecting from my mouth. If you’ve ever made eye contact with me, chances are you’ve heard tales of rivers of snots flowing down the back of my throat. These are rivers that would make the River Styx look like a stream. It’s kind of embarassing but short of hiring tiny beavers to build a damn in my esophogaus, I don’t have many options.
It’s especially bad in the morning. On my commute to work, I have to roll down the window every red light and do a little “spring cleaning.” Most of the time the mucus has no problems saying, “Goodbye” and they go on an adventure while I feel slightly more satisfied. The other times, the river decides that, no, it is going to stay in my body come hell or any amount of water. It clings to objects and is as hard to get out of my mouth as a child who doesn’t want to get in its bed. But I try. I’ll drive for miles just making noises, manuevering my tounge and getting everything ready for take off. But sometimes all the preparation in the world isn’t enough.
Spitting out something that doesn’t want to leave is tough. The tiniest pinky of this being clings to the edge of my tongue and instead of flying forward, out the window, it boomerangs back into my shoulder. It’s awfully embarrassing. And you say to yourself, “Oh no one will notice that lil’ damp spot on your shoulder.” But as soon as you walk into work (an hour late) you feel eyes on you until you confess what happened. Often times with tears.
I go on an aeroplane tomorrow. I am very excited.
Also, hey Kevin.
If You Thought I was Awesome Before
Get ready to brace yourself. Possibly with some sort of rope/mule combination. Also, I should mention Andrew Meyer did the filming and editing.
Speaking of Holograms
Technology has come a long way from the typewriter. As I speak I’m writing on a computer. It’s crazy, I know. How can a man, such as myself, afford a computer in this day and age? Investing in Cambell’s Soup is what.
Anyways, besides holograms a new innovation I’ve been growing accustom to has been Coffee Cake. It’s new at Caribou Coffee and it’s about time. It’s the perfect combination of cake, and cinnamon, and crumbs. This thing must be held together by glue because basically it’s just a load of crumbs crushed into cube. Impossible to eat this thing without embarrassing yourself. It takes a human of high charisma, charm, good looks, as well as confidence to devour the whole cake and still retain their dignitity.
I just took a bite now. My co-workers starred at me in awe - they’re god damn amazed. Thanks Coffee Cake. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Want to start a blog together? We could call it SureBoutCoffeeCake. I’ll check godaddy for that domain name.
Quit Mouthing Me Words
Hey lady who walks those neighbor hood roads in the dusk of a fall evening. I see you there with your reflective stripes covered your buddy as though you were some sort of mummy who was on their way to an Egyptian rave. You walk these streets and say, “Hello!” to everyone, even to the man who lets his dog poop in your lawn. You sure can turn the other cheek. But you do so because of the empowerment you feel when you’re out protecting this land of yours. You walk with purpose, each stride covering familiar pavement, making sure all is right with your neighbors.
So when I drive through the neighborhood, pizzas in the passenger seat, going the speed limit, you do not need to mouth words to me as though I am deaf. But I do hope you know that your pleas do fall on deaf ears. When you turn your head, furrow your brow, raise one of your hands, which is clutching a weight (you’re triceps must look amazing), and shout to me what I think is, “Slow Down” I am not going to slow down. Words shooting out of your mouth have no actual impact, no matter how well you shape your mouth into a cannon. My car is not programmed (that I know of) to have a soul and, therefore, does not care that is is going five miles per hour over the speed limit in a sleepy dark residential area.
So please, give your gabby mouth a break for once and quit screaming at me. Perhaps if you learn to settle down, Hector will stop pooping on your land. Hector the accountant neighbor of yours, not his dog.
Nintendo Does it Again
I have bought everything Nintendo has every made. Except a virtual boy, but let’s be serious. I have purchased a NES, SNES, N64, Game Boy, Game Boy Pocket, an ICE BLUE Game Boy Pocket, Expansion Pack for N64, Rumble Packs, Game Boy Advance, Game Boy SP, Nintendo DS, Nintendo DS Lite, Game Cube, and Wii. I’ve invested most of my childhood raising money in order to buy Nintendo’s shit. I always end up disappointed (I never use my Wii. Like ever. And N64 is the worst system ever.) but I purchase their goods as if a man was holding a gun to my head and that the gun was not filled with funny flags, but bullets.
Now they go ahead and just announce a new version of their DS, the DSi. Ya, a little tiny “i” in the name of their item? Sounds sort of familiar. Like that iPhone and iPod. Funny how competition works. Anyways, Nintendo has announced a new DS that is slightly slimmer (sexy), larger dual screens (also sexy), equipped with a 3 mega pixel camera (boner sexy), can be fitted with a sd card (eh), and boast a download store and music play back. So let that sink in.
Nintendo has just turned my favorite portable system into an iPod Touch but with really fucking awesome video games. Am I going to have to buy this? Of course. The DS is the only thing that Nintendo has gotten right lately and the DSi sounds incredible. I always needed a camera and if it plays video games, sign me up.
the iPhone may not be a real threat in the gaming industry like some analysis are predicting but it’s nice to see them spur Nintendo on. No one else was going to do it. Ok it’s late. THANKS.
Introducing The Robot Masters
I’m sure we’ve all heard, and been entertained by, the Blue Bomber himself. Now, Good ol’ Megaman (Rockman if you’re a Japanese resident) is finally making a triumphant return to the days of pixels and platforms with Megaman 9. I for one have grown along side this young robot boy as he has grown and matured through the ages. When I was young and unable to read I found the Megaman games accessible since I didn’t have to read anything, just shoot things. And since shooting,like math/music, is a universal language I adapted quickly.
Megaman was always the main focus of the games with the evil robots waiting patiently at the end of the road. Can you imagine waiting patiently while a little blue robot makes his way from one end of your infuriating complex to another only to penetrate your robot exoskeleton with bullets? Neither can I, so I imagine that these robot masters did something to pass the time. Since I practically majored in speculation, I am going to do just that with hopes that one day Capcom releases a tell all tale.
Let’s start with the most obvious, Top Man. He is more Top than Man so you can imagine what his magnificent power is. Spinning. He throws toy tops at you then spins in place. He’s more annoying than threatening. His original purpose? A dance robot. Thanks Dr.Wily. You sure know how to devise the most efficient robots for taking over the globe.
Top Man taps his foot with a lack of patience. “Listen robots. You’re not stepping in time and if we don’t get this production right this year our funding is going to get cut. You want more of that money to go to Hard Man and his pie eating habit?” The robots, made mostly of coils and springs, bumbled around to get back in starting position. “Look, it’s like this.” Top Man started spinning in place.
“But, Mr.Top Man. We were made to bounce up and down. Not spin.” Top Man looked sharply in the outspoken robot’s direction and launched a top at him. It spun wildly towards the robot and then collided with him and fell to the ground. The robot was unscathed. “Um, yeah how do you expect to beat that Mega Man dude with those tops? You know he’s been like slaughtering all the other robots?”
“Fighting is an art. You don’t understand the beauty we are going to make when he jumps through that gate and I start spinning and reflecting his bullets in perfect harmony. He will then change to his hard knuckle power, which he ripped from my good friend Hard Man, and he will decimate me. And I will spin into him. And a painter will want to paint us.” The robot troupe looked at Top Man with a bit of respect and some amazement.
“You will perish faster than a marshmallow by a campfire.”
Top Man put his hand on the robot. “I know. Let us rehearse one last time.”
Project Projection
So I’m stuck in a roundabout right now. There are like eighty avenues of exit and they all look delectable. I’m thinking about turning my misadventures as a pizza delivery dude into a novel (or made for TV movie on lifetime?). Who wouldn’t want to read about how I delivery to a man who weighs in at over four hundred pounds and his five year old child(?) answers the door with his pants around his ankles and poop smeared all over his ass. Can you imagine how scarred I am from this delivery. The fact that I am driven only by my personal greed of money keeps me on the roads.
Also, I was thinking of beginning a podcast about Hobos. It would be like my Hobo Digest thing I write but instead I would just report news once a week for a half an hour. I could bring on other hobo guest and the best part is my budget doesn’t exceed a six pack of beer and a sandwich. Bam.
I may also begin to write about video games on here. I have avoided it for so long because when I go to write about games I get to the point where I start drooling like the mentally disabled and just start typing “LOVE LOVE LOVE GAMES STREET FIGHTER SHORYUKEN SOUNDS LIKE SURE YOU CAN”. Sorry if that’s what you’ve been coming here for and I have put it off for so long.
In other news, Pat died. Just kidding! He is in DC for good now. Thank God right?
So that’s really all that’s been going on. My nose is stuffy and I was bitten by a wasp four days ago and it is still swollen. Shortly after the wasp incident I was pooped on the head courtesy of a bird. Talk about nature sucking.
I’m going to bed and when I wake up I may begin one of them there projects. I may also go to podcamp too. I heard some Rachel girl is going and she keeps pestering me to go do a panel. What could I possibly talk about? Horses? Apples? Sugar licks?