Mixtapes

Go Joe.

2008-02-15T18:21:00.001-05:00

The Unaddressed

2008-01-08T14:22:00.000-05:00

It has been unaddressed, at least in the public forum, that all my writing buddies have defected. I had gotten wind of this sometime before break. A lot of writers were looking at the Creative Circus to polish off their writing books. I didn't know I was going to walk into class this week and be one of only three students in the whole room.

Adrian, you must be devastated?

Not really. Actually, I'm a little heartbroken I didn't get my Wii for Christmas. It's true a few of those writers have talent, and the Creative Circus should be proud to have them aboard, but my last tear dropped with James Brown. Good luck to you, I'll miss shoot'n-the-shit in PC lab 1.

In other news, Elaine's car got broken into. Thursday night somebody broke the rear, driver's side vent window and attempted to steal the car. There wasn't anything valuable in the car so nothing was stolen. They must have been morons, amateurs at best. They ripped out the steering column thinking that they would find the ignition wires. They obviously didn't know what they were doing. Idiots! Can't even steal a car.

Thanks for trying to clean our windows.

The police said it's probably the same group of kids that performed a hard robbery at Colonial Homes a couple months ago. The officer said to be on the look out for three guys: one short, two tall, and one has dreadlocks.
I think they look like this:

...but black.

I'm Back.

2007-12-13T00:36:00.000-05:00

Is it just me or does my face look kind of long in this picture? I promised that i would start blogging again. So i have to keep my promise.

I'M BACK. Not that it really matters. I think the only people that read my blog were my parents and the writers at school. I'm going to make a deal with myself. If I start blogging again, and I mean ideally every day, but probably more like every 4 days, then I have to let myself blabber on about the silliest, most uninteresting, crap that loses its way into my head everyday. Is that a deal? Maybe I should fold up the laptop for now and answer that question in the morning. I tell you what, if your reading this then you'll know whether it sees the light of day or not. I would rather watch the sixth day right now, anyways.

Good Night.

2007-07-09T17:58:00.000-04:00

Where Was I? Oh, Yeah...

2007-01-21T20:53:00.001-05:00

All I could do was look at this lady. She was separated from me by a pane of glass that kept me from reaching out to her. At the very least, I wanted to wipe the drool from her lips or turn off the windshield wipers. I couldn't even get her to turn to me. I tried moving into her line of sight, pointing at the lock on the door. I could see her chest heaving up and down very slowly, almost calmly. Still, there was nothing I could do. I have never felt so completely helpless in my life.

Cars moved all around us and people stared blankly out their window. Horns were honking, people were tapping the glass, some guy is slamming a jack into her back window, I'm on hold with 911, its freezing outside, and for a few seconds I thought of something. This lady was going to die blissfully, sunk into the heated leather cushions of her cream-filled raspberry jaguar, probably listening to the soothing sounds of Celine Dion while life revolved around her at the corner of Peachtree and Piedmont. The irony slapped me in the face each time I jumped at the crack of the jack.

The sirens got a little louder until they were silenced at the intersection. Firemen moseyed out of their truck and discussed how they were going to pull her from the fortress of solitude. One of them walked back to the truck and pulled out the biggest pickax I'd ever seen. The kind of tool that ONLY a fireman would have. The back window shattered with one blow. He reached in and unlocked the door. That was it. They pulled her out and she was still breathing. She started regaining consciousness and I'm pretty sure she was okay after that.

The coppers wrote down my info and story because I was the first one at the scene. I haven't heard anything since.

True Story...I Swear!

2007-01-11T23:01:00.000-05:00

I stared at her through a window as she jolted and drooled, suffering in her seat. It was a beautiful Jaguar with gold trimming and soft, beige leather interior. It looked like a cream filled raspberry donut dropped in the middle of Piedmont. I kept knocking on the window and screaming, "Hey, mam!" Knock, knock. "Hey, Hey!"

Becca and I were on our way to Binders sometime during Studio Week. I'll never remember what day it was. The Sun just seemed to slip up and down from behind the trees all week long while I sat at my desk window. We made a left onto Piedmont after sitting in traffic for 30 minutes on Peachtree. Immediately we were bumber-to-bumber again.

We were behind some lady in a raspberry red Jag just as traffic began to move ahead. I couldn't help but wonder how much money she made. She must have been so comfortable in her cream filled donut that she could care less whether she was holding up traffic. She hadn't moved. It was so shiny like a JollyRancher stuck to the street that was too big for us to go around. I wanted to jump out and run my tongue along the side of it to guess what flavor it really was. Maybe it wasn't raspberry after all. Maybe it was cherry.

I could see the lady through the rear window waving her finger at whatever hidden person was in the passenger seat. She was scolding them good I thought. And then I realized nobody else was in the car. She was having a seizure.

I jumped out the truck. Just as I ran up to the rear of the car her foot slipped off the break. The car moved forward and I jogged along side of it trying to open the door. SLAM! The jag plows into the delivery truck in front of her. My hands are pulling on the door handle as she jerks forward and back into the cushions of her seat. The car comes to rest as she shakes violently under the straps of her seat-belt. All the doors are locked.

Knock, Knock. "Hey, mam! Can you hear me?"

She's unresponsive. I called 911 and they tell me to break open the car window. Becca gets the iron jack out of her Xterra and this big black dude swings away at the small back seat window. SMACK! We all turn away anticipating a shower of shattered glass in every direction, but nothing happens. SMACK! Barry Bonds wouldn't have been able to break through the window of a Jag. It was impossible to get in.

I'm still trying to get her attention. She's leaned forward, the windshield wipers are screeching back and forth, and her shaking has stopped. Blood and bubbles slowly ooze from her mouth. She's completely unresponsive.

To Be Continued...

Good...Morning?

2006-12-05T21:02:00.000-05:00

Whew! It's been like two weeks since I've blogged. I don't know what happened. I've had this enormous amount of pressure on me to finish my writing assignments for school that I just completely blew off my blog. Luckily they're all done now, edited, and sent off as of sometime yesterday. I feel pretty good and I think it's time to continue just where I left off. Where was that? Oh yeah, Ambien. Man, that thing knocked me out. Maybe that's where I've been. That Ambien was so strong I've been asleep for the last two weeks!

I just got the new Seinfeld Season 7 DVDs at Target the other day. It's awesome. There's so many good shows in that season: the Soup Nazi, the Wink, the Rye, and the Sponge, a personal favorite. In high school my friends and I would argue which was a better show: Friends or Seinfeld? Really there's no argument. Friends doesn't hold a candle to Seinfeld. That show is just a bunch of pretty faces with bad jokes and good deliveries. Seinfeld had substance, ugly people, and tacky coffee shops. The writing carried that show...as a show should be carried.

My friend Josh named his dog David Puddy. Here's the pic to his myspace. And yes bitches, he's single.

School Daze

2006-11-17T18:32:00.000-05:00

Lately my sleeping schedule has been so screwy with all the school work and deadlines. I swallowed an Ambien last night (I don't usually use them, but I do have a prescription) around 1sh. I figured an 8 hour snooze, an hour run around the neighborhood, and that would put me at my desk just before noon. Which is a great time because I don't have any class on Fridays and I would be able to work all day.

NONE of that happened. I use my phone as my alarm clock and...well, I've been in dire need of a new phone. So nothing went off, I didn't get up at nine, and an hour sleep turned into 12 hours. If there is anything good to say about last night then it's get a prescription for Ambien. It's like NyQuil for Superman.

I was determined to stick to my agenda. I went for a run around the neighborhood which I've never done before. I'm new to the area and I'm sort of afraid of getting lost - which I did. I got lost and my one hour run turned into three hours!! I got so lost that I got tired of running. And then I couldn't wait to get home that I actually started running again, despite the pain.

More good news: Now I know my neighborhood like dogs know crotches.

I felt pretty good after a shower and a cup of coffee. It was almost dark outside by that time, but I felt pretty good. I don't know why I can't get this time management thing down. I try so hard to be a morning person: wake up with the birds, do a morning run, read the paper, drink the coffee and watch the morning show - all that day-to-day crap. But I think I just have to face up to the fact that I'm a night owl. I function better when it's dark, birds are sleeping, stores are closed, people are getting mugged, the coffee is supposed to be decaf. Well, I don't believe in decaf coffee. What's the point? Coffee isn't exactly Kool-aid. And if it's the Irish cream, amaretto taste that you're craving; let me fix you a little Bailey's and Disaronno night-cap. I assure you that you'll sleep just fine.

So sorry, Mom. I will sleep late for the rest of my blessed life. I tried. I real did. =)

The Night Before a Restful Post

2006-11-14T21:53:00.000-05:00

I can't promise quality. I've been awake for about 36 hours straight and the delirium is kicking in just a little bit. Sylvia Gaffney has got me tied down. I'm making bags and posters and boxes and spaghetti and products and egg tacos with potatoes O'Brien. The coke machine has just enough soda to saturate my blood into simple syrup. It's time to change the oil in my hair and wash the thin, greasy film off my face. The injection of blood in my eyes has peaked and now I'll hit the pillow and fall asleep. My contacts are stuck dry; my vision is somewhat blurred. I gotta go take a shit.

2006-11-08T19:10:00.000-05:00

Question Mark

I always wondered if it was some intern copywriter who wrote those tag lines or the actual producers. The question mark can obviously play a vital role in understanding words and phrases. It's hilarious how Fox News can so overtly indoctrinate ideas and try to pass them off as questions. I understand that most news groups are somewhat politically biased in their own ways. NBC and CBS appear to lean liberal but at least their approach is not so transparent. Not that that makes them any better. It's perhaps that very aspect that makes them more distrustful. But at least I don't feel clubbed over the head after watching these other stations.

I once read on The Smoking Gun a list of demands that every celeb must have in his/her hotel room proior to their arrival. Ice Cube has to have a bucket of KFC chicken wings, Dionne Warwick has to have little franks and bbq ribs, the Rolling Stones have to have a weeping eucalyptus plant (i assume to cover up the vomit smell), and Dick Cheney has to have every TV turned to Fox News. At least Nixon, who was obsessed with his media image, had all the news channels on in the oval office. Is this where our govt. is getting its information?

I hope that most people read their information as oppose to having it spoon-fed to them through TV. Newspapers are a dying source and the internet can be incredibly invaluable (with exception to this blogspot). =)

Peace out, Rummy!

2006-11-08T16:46:00.000-05:00

The political shuffle that took place last night in the house and maybe the senate is little more comforting. As for Kinky Friedman, oh well. Keep the cigars lit and the books interesting.

A Throw-Down with Hoedowns

2006-11-05T20:15:00.000-05:00

Since when did a night club become a place to watch other people have a good time? I went to a bar last night and got bored real quick. A gay cowboy bar is a great idea. It has a niche market and great title: Hoedowns. I seriously thought the place would have a lot of promise for good time, but I was really disappointed, as was my gay roommate.

First things first: they don't take credit cards. That pissed me off. I surfed their website a few hours before going and read all about "etiquette" (which I'll get into later), amenities, reviews and awards, and legal stuff like zero tolerance for underage drinkers. The website didn't say anything about taking cash only. So naturally the bartender points me to the corner where I have to pay $2.50 to use THEIR ATM. You know they don't post that info on the website so they can get paid every time a newbie like me waltzes in and wants a drink. They made $15 bucks on the six of us before we even got to the bar. BTW, I'm commenting on their website.

As soon as we got our drinks Kevin's friend took us to the dance floor - which we just stood around. I wasn't allowed to line dance because I didn't know any of the steps. I didn't know any of the steps because THEY WERE MADE UP LINE DANCES! You have to go to THEIR lessons to learn THEIR special hoedowns. I know how to line dance. I've done it before. I'm from Texas, remember? I was taught how to line dance in middle school phys ed; not to mention my mother made me learn it with her in the kitchen. So I have to learn your hoedowns, and if I don't I have to dance off to the side, and your going to call that "etiquette". Well here's a cowboy term for you pardners: BULLSHIT!

As John Travolta might say in Urban Cowboy: I can't two-step real good, but I sure as hell aint real bad neither. I would like to get a little better. My mother's lesson on two-stepping never stuck like the line dancing. I used to go to this place in Austin called Don's Depot where a co-worker gave me a crash course on two-stepping. That place was great because there were really good two-steppers and there were people trying to learn, like me. We all had a good time and novices weren't asked to dance off to the side for fear of...what...I don't know, embarrassing the club? I'm so sorry I make Hoedowns look bad. Don't mind me, I'll dance over here.

In response to Becca's blog, you wrote: "I had been excited to go country western dancing but didn't dance. Our guys not only didn't know how to two-step, they were intimidated by the dancers already on the dance floor."
I never said I couldn't two-step. If your idea of intimidated is not being welcome to learn on a Saturday night and wanting to use free range of the floor. Then yeah, I was superfucking intimidated. And I don't ever remember you asking to teach anybody. All that talent gone to waste. Disappointing.

The website says it welcomes newcomers, but I don't think that's the case at all. It's like you have to know their super-secret handshake just to have a good time and participate. Plus, half the club was the dance floor and the rest of the club was people trying to get a peak at the people dancing. There was nothing else to do. There was one coin-operated pool table tucked away in the corner and that was it. What kind of cowboy bar has only one pool table. All the cowboys I know can pocket an eight-ball faster than Willie Nelson can roll a "J". That's pretty damn fast for you non Willie fans.

This bar gets no love from me.

A Lot of Nothing

2006-11-03T19:13:00.000-05:00

See the middle one. That's what I looked like today after a #7 from Chic-fil-a.

I'm starting to have blogging issues because my life is a loopty-loop of school work and sleep. Every-so-often I get to go to the Fresh Market for chocolate covered espresso beans and chicken wraps. I recommend the white and milk chocolate covered. The dark chocolate are little bitter when combined with the espresso flavor.

I've recently discovered the black cherry vanilla coke. I like it. I'm not sure it tastes like black cherries or vanilla, but it's good - sweet. I'm still a big fan of the wild cherry Pepsi. It's the cat's scratch.

I didn't used to drink sodas until I came back to school. I gave them up for a long time and I remember the first two weeks. If you want to lose between 5 and 10 lbs. in two weeks then give up sodas. It works, I promise. It's like giving up sugar. But you have to be an addict first, like everything else.

I would like to promise consistent and whole thoughts on my next post, but I have to reserve that sort of brain power for homework. Does anybody know how to construct a box or a bag? How are copywriters supposed know this? I understand designers are learning this in production class, but I need a little tutorial. I'm sure I can figure it out, but if I'm supposed to be managing my time, then that's gonna be a lot of time wasted just trying to figure it out before actually doing it. Oh, brother.

Dear Blog,

2006-11-01T23:11:00.000-05:00

My you have an odd name. Who named you? Don't you think it's funny when people start their diary with "Dear Diary?" Why don't I start my blog with "Dear Blog?" You know why? Because it sounds stupid. I feel like I'm writing to Ann Landers when I write that. Plus, I think it sounds a little bubblegummy. Good thing Anne Frank didn't write that before every entry. "Dear Diary: today the S.S. kicked down our door and the stench of death has seeped into hour hideout behind the bookshelf."

Truth is, when I write that salutation I think I have a tendency to get a little more personal in my entries. It simulates my conversations with a confidant.

I bought some eggs yesterday and accidentally left them out over night. They were out for about 12 hours before I put them in the fridge. Can I still use them? I wanted to make breakfast tacos. I haven't seen any in this town and my roommate doesn't even know what a breakfast taco is. I'm not one to brag, but I make a damn good breakfast taco. I have secret ingredients.

I think when people say they have secret ingredients you're supposed to believe they know what they're doing. I knew this girl that said she had a secret ingredient for her enchiladas. It turned out to be Rotel. What a bunch of shit! That's not a secret ingredient, that's a can peppers. And it's not even a secret! I'm from El Paso and nobody is fooling me with Rotel because I know the difference...I mean, can Rotel the difference. And I'll Rotel you something else, chopped Elgin sausage in queso (that's melted cheese for you non-Texans) is a secret ingredient...was a secret ingredient. Enjoy.

2006-10-28T14:52:00.000-04:00

Fright Night

This part scared the crap out of me the first time I saw it. Now if I can just figure out how to make it a Halloween costume...hmmm.

Fat is Beautiful!

2006-10-27T02:57:00.000-04:00

Another pic of my recently deceased cat, Holden Clawfield. He and I used to sit next to each other and watch Seinfeld. I laughed. I'm not sure he liked it so much, but he knew how to humor me. Now he has all the twisty-ties he'll ever need.

2006-10-26T23:11:00.000-04:00

Kevin doin' Missy

This is my roommate Kevin doing his immpression of Missy "Misdemeanor" Elliot. It's one of those late nights when everyone is a little loopy.

Staying Afloat

2006-10-26T22:06:00.000-04:00

Where the hell have I been, you asked? I've been swamped. In fact, I may be drowning. One class is eating all of my time. Not that I don't have time to blog, I just haven't found the mental capacity to do it. That's an excuse.
I went to a club called Johnny's Hideaway on Saturday night. It was a school assignment that I'm writing about. It was an older person's club. Something my parents would visit for a night of dancing and romancing. We were definitely fish out of water. I was expecting the record to scratch and the stare-downs when a bunch of young twenty-somethings walked through the door. A couple of middle-aged women almost bought me a drink not five minutes into standing at the bar. These ladies were on the prowl! Too bad the girls I was with got nothing but mean looks from the ladies and frisky flirts from the dirty old men.

I danced with a couple of older women all night and I had a great time!! I ought to get a sugar-mama to pay my tuition and drive me around. I didn't mean to drink so much because I had planned on coming home and working on my projects. I don't know how to justify it other than I think I just needed it. In the end, I crawled up my stairs and wrote all over my living room wall with a pencil - ANYWAYS, the rest of my week has been very busy and full of bad food.

I stayed up all night on Monday again. I think it's going to be a Monday night tradition because of my weighty classes on Tuesday.
I picked up a leaf on my way to class the other day because I had never really seen anything like it. It changed colors and was quite beautiful. We don't always get that kind of stuff in Texas. Sylvia said I should go out of town an hour to the foothills of the Appalachians to see all the colors change. It was very nice of her to recommend that and I would love to go. But I wanted to look her in the eye and say "WHEN THE FUCK AM I GOING TO HAVE TIME FOR THAT!" I would really love to go though. This is the leaf:

Nice isn't it? I'll keep you posted. Promise!

The Stars at Night are Big and Bright...

2006-10-19T04:25:00.000-04:00

You are 73% REAL Texan!!

You're way more Texan than average. You're parents were probably from here too. We're glad to have you. You probably go to the border for Christmas shopping and are well versed in BBQ, Mexican Food and .. well thats pretty much it.

How Texan Are You?

That's just like Texas to give a standardized test to see how Texan we are. Thank God I passed. I've been studying for 26 stinking years. It said I was way above average. But I know some of those are trick questions.

2006-10-18T22:33:00.000-04:00

Today Was A Good Day...

because it actually lasted about 48 hours. I pulled yet another all-nighter to get everything done for my design class.
I'm happy to see that tania, our writing instructor, isn't afraid to rip us a new one when we're slacking. I knew she had it in her but I wasn't sure when it was going to come out. I've never had anybody tell me that my story was cliched (klee-shayd) and a cop out. That was very refreshing. I got negative critisism in my UT writing classes all the time, but never so blunt. It was motivating.
Then, design aesthetics was a day at the beach. Other than the stomach ache from the lack of food and abundance of Mountain Dew, I have to say I enjoyed that class. My presentation went...positive, which is more than I can say for other people and their delicious apples. Oh, I almost forgot, Kevin brought in apple pie. Good joke, better pie.
Before my nap on the couch, Kevin and I finally found the taco bell in this mad city. Now i haven't had taco bell in about 5 weeks and i was about ready to flip out. I was craving the #6 with the chalupas (baja, of course) and a raspberry iced-tea. I ate it all before the car pulled in the driveway. What followed next was a food coma that lasted three hous on the couch.
Then I woke to one of the best phone calls I'd had in a while. All I can say is it put a big, fat smile on my face.
Had a little homework group with a lot of bad wine and wrapped it up at 4am.
So I had to post this video in tribute. Oh, I too did not have to use my A-K. =)

2006-10-17T07:48:00.000-04:00

An examination of my character by association:

If I were an animal I would be a Dog.
If I were a Flower I would be an orchid.
If I were a tree I would be a Magnolia.
If I were a color I would be white.
If I were a food I would be an onion.
If I were a country I would be Switzerland.
If I were a model of car I would be a Mini.
If I were a kitchen utensil I would be a bottle opener.
If I were an odor I would be rain.
If I were a playing card I would be the two of hearts.
If I were month I would be October.
If I were a radio station I would be NPR.
If I were a body of water I would be the Pacific.
If I were a brand of soap I would be Zest.
If I were a piece of jewelry I would be a labret.

I will be happy when I can get my all-nighters down to one a week.

A Sunday Eulogy

2006-10-15T13:57:00.000-04:00

This was my cat. His name was Holden Clawfield and he was attacked by another animal a couple of months ago in Austin. I look at other cats now and think, "Man, Holden was much more cute than that one". But I think that's the way every cat owner feels. Nothing is as cute as your cat. I imagine parents are just as biased with their kids. So when is the appropriate time to get a new cat? I probably won't get one anytime soon. Holden was attention loving and I'm not sure I can show anyone attention at this point. Shit, I should just date Sylvia, she gets all my attention anyways. I grew up with dogs. I've always been a dog person until I met my ex-girlfriend with two, black Halloween cats. I'm officially a cat person now. Not that it matters, I guess I just like having pets. I have two cacti in my window. Those will have to do for now. Still, I used to love the way Holden would sit in his fat rolls. I have a picture but the blog wont let me upload it =( But this is Holden and Hazel. Hazel's on the left and she's the best roommate in the world. Sorry, Kevin.

I miss my cats. I say that all the time. Even though there's only one now, I still say cats. He was only four when he died. I miss my cats.

Warm Thoughts

2006-10-14T20:58:00.001-04:00

These walls are thin and it's fucking cold outside! At least I'm witnessing a change of season.

AD: "Hey look Kevin, the leaves are changing color and falling-"
KF: (annoyed) "What?"
AD: "The leaves, Kevin. They're-"
KF: "Oh, get over it!"

Those silly Virginians.
So what happened to Saturday? When did I start having class on Saturday? More importantly, why am I sitting at my desk on a Saturday night? Oh, that's right. Because I'm getting pounded by school work. The only thing that's getting me through this is the half-pound bag of chocolate covered espresso beans I carry in my bag like a fashionable poodle. Those things hit you pretty hard. Between that and the Paxil, I don't want to stop spinning around in my desk chair.

AD: "Hey look Kevin, I can see my breath".
KF: "What?"
AD: "My breath Kevin,-"
KF: "Oh, get a mint!"

Virginia must really be for bastards. J/K, Kev. I know it's for Gays too.
These penguins are killing me. I've officially designed about 200 different penguin figures. I'm starting to dream about them. Last night one chased me up the stairs and into my room...no joke. How it managed to actually climb the stairs, I'm not sure. But I bet it went back down on its belly. Silly Penguins.

2006-10-14T20:58:00.000-04:00

Paxilback - Gray Kid parody of Justin Timberlake's Sexyback

How apropos. It's not just a video, it's a state of mind. God bless the little pink buggers.

Still Alive

2006-10-13T20:04:00.000-04:00

I'm so pissed, I had a whole blog written that just got wiped out when I tried to spell check. Why does that happen to me all the time? It makes me feel like I have to save my work every 30-seconds just write a damn blog. Okay, I'm over it.
I went to the "So You Thing You Can Dance" touring show with Becca last night. Not something I would normally go to, but I have to say that I had a really good time. Even getting lost...twice, was pretty fun. I don't know that Becca will say the same, but I was quite amused. I was even more amused at the type of crowd that showed up to the event. Kids dragging their parents is very understandable, but old men dragging their wives is a little scary. I saw one bald, old man stand and clap after almost every routine. Yikes! The worst part was backing Becca's truck into a little wooden block on the side of my parking lot. Sorry, B. Oh, even worse, I left my beef rice in the back seat =( None-the-less, it was a lot of fun. Thanks, Becca.
How 'bout those Tigers. I'm a little bummed that non of my favorite teams are in contention for the World Series. I'll probably root for Detroit, but the Mets are finally not eclipsed by the Yanks. I love the Yanks, but shit, give 'em a chance. St. Louis is good, they may take it all anyway.
The best corned beef sandwich is at TJ's sub shop down Peachtree. I had it today and it gave me a food coma.

My Blah, Blah, Blahgger

2006-10-11T18:44:00.000-04:00

Finally got all my shit done for design and I have to say that I'm quite pleased with myself. Granted I've already had two all-nighters in the first week of school, I think my designs came out pretty good. It was obvious some people really half-assed them. I'm kinda surprised by that. Being a copywriter, I thought my designs were actually a little better than some of the designers' work. Overall, the three copywriters in that class did really well in comparison. Maybe it's not the quality of work that was overwhelming, but the amount of work that had people stressed. Still, I think it speaks volumes to be able to do the quality work we did in the amount of time we had to do it. Does that make sense? Regardless, my presentation also went very well, despite the fact that I didn't have enough civ. in my design. But then everybody received that criticism.
After class I had some chicken quesadillas (which didn't even approach Texas quesadillas) from Willy's and the best damn Pacifico I've ever had. A beer after that class is very necessary. I think I could have had a Corona and it would have tasted good....what am I thinking? No, it wouldn't have. I slept 13 hours after getting only an hour the night before.
Today was fun. I went driving around with my fellow classmates taking pictures of type. I bet that sounds really boring. My friend Audrey says my blog is boring and I need more sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll. Well let's see what we can do. Sex: As a heterosexual male student in Atlanta, you'd think I'd be getting all kinds of "play". But since the people that know me know that I don't really "play", or that my game consists of, "so...do you like.....stuff"? That's a Ralph Wiggum line and that's pretty much how I feel around girls. Some people think it's cute, I think it's sad.
Drugs: Don't do 'em, can't afford 'em, don't know where to get 'em. Rock-and-roll: now this I may be able to manage into my life. I love music and would love to go to a show. In fact, being in Atlanta is great opportunity to see some really good bands, DJs, and MCs. I notice a lot MCs around town throwing partys and shows but let's face, I don't have a car. Not only that, but I'm not sure I can justify throwing down twenty-bucks for a show when I don't have a job anymore. It's funny, sometimes school just SLAPS! you in the face. It just did - right here, in the computer lab. My face is red. It looks like this:
So sorry Audrey. You can cancel your subscription to Mixtapes, but you're not getting your money back, sucker!
Congratulations to my friend, the Maroon of the week. You deserve it.
Oh, can somebody please, anybody, send me a six-pack of Lonestar. Tall boys would be great!

The Big Night

2006-10-09T21:53:00.000-04:00

Thank you, Tania, for that lovely recommendation to visit the Cleremont Hotel. I admit I really didn't think it was it was that shady until the old black fellow getting into his car asked Meredith if she was "working" upstairs tonight. The small basement club at the bottom of the not-so pillow mint hotel was indeed one of the most interesting places I've ever been. The wall to wall bric-a-brac and smoky haze reminded me of the dive bars all over Austin. Fortunately, all the 40-year old strippers were very kind to me and my fellow writers. One was even generous enough to accept my 20 dollar bill for Tyrese's lap dance. It was rather entertaining, but his ass slaps could have been a little better. Next time don't cup your hand so much, Tyrese. The best part was the fat black stripper crushing a PBR can between her low hanging breasts. Or maybe it was when she punched her breasts into the face of a lucky patron. By the look on his face, I could tell he did not enjoy it as you might otherwise suspect. It seemed people went there more for the sing-a-longs and laughs than for the actual strippers. I've only been to one strip club in my whole life and it was nothing like this place. Isn't it customary to go to the strip club for the strippers?
After a Vodka soda and a scotch and water, it was time to hit the Terminator 2 pinball machine in the corner. I got two balls for 50 cents because the third one got stuck. After putting in another 50 cents I still got only two balls because the last, again, got stuck. I guess that's telling of the establishment. Of all the strippers, I think little red riding hood was my favorite. However, she was far from little. I especially enjoyed the large trough urinal in the men's bathroom. Boy, I love using those. It's not awkward at all. Austin's full of those as well. What can I say, some places are trough urinal places and some aren't.
After a few hours and a lot of laughs, it was time to make our way out of the shade and into the lights. So we left. I'm actually really glad that was my first outing in this big city. It makes for a memorable experience.

Remember When Friday's Were Fun?

2006-10-06T20:12:00.000-04:00

Okay, it wasn't that bad today. Only because I procrastinated more today than I have all week. After working very diligently on you-know-who's class, I had a panini in midtown. Is it just me or are there a lot of panini places in Atlanta? I have had like 4 in the week that I've been here and I've probably only traveled a two-mile radius.
One thing that I've noticed in this town is every time I ask someone how long it takes to get somewhere, they immediately respond, "In traffic"? Well, yeah. Everybody bitches about traffic in this town (understandably, traffic is bad) why don't we just assume we're all going to get stuck in traffic? Is there ever no traffic? I'll eat my shoe the day someone says, "Traffic was fucking great today. I only flew my bird out the window once".
I have to go because my time is seriously managed and...shit. I'm way behind on work and gotta get my ass to the desk. It's been...educational.

Days Running Together

2006-10-05T21:14:00.000-04:00

I'm not getting the internet at my home until Thursday...next Thursday! Comcast fucked up my account again and I have to wait another week for service. The good news, however, is it's gone be free installation because they got an earfull from yours truly. I thought to call Tania about my missing post, but I thought what the hell, I'll just blog it.
I think my roommate wants to make his deer for Sylvia's class gay. I don't know what that means but that's the last thing he's said in five minutes. My penguins on the other hand are coming along nicely. I thought to just rent March of the Penguins and type out everything I hear, but that would be fair to the King penguin, the Brushtail, the Gentoo, and the Chinstrap. Actually I don't think the Chinstrap would mind. But I'm not going to blog any further about that class because I already eat, sleep, and shit Aesthetic Design.
I bought a desk. In fact, I bought a desk and a chair at Ikea. That was yesterday. I also did research for about six hours - oh yeah, there'll be non of that right now.
My roommate convinced me to watch Project Runway last night. I've never really seen an episode so I couldn't tell you what exactly is going on. What I do know is there's more drama on that show than any daytime soap I've ever seen (did I just admit to watching a daytime soap?). But hey, I'll watch the Golden Girls if it puts a beer in my hand and gets me away from my desk for an hour.
I think the cleaning crew is making their way into the lab.

First Day Back

2006-10-03T10:02:00.000-04:00

Two years since I've had a class (I'd like to think that I have class, the adj.) and I have the first day jitters. At UT I bitched about being a number amongst 50,000 students. Today, there's five people in my class, hmm.