Opera

for all of those who chose to watch such shows as "dancing with the stars" and "american idol" over the olympics i say fuck you.

the olympics are really really neato. some really neat sports going down, and most of all theres a real sense of unity. there are no borders in olympic cities and all arguements are set aside for the sake of good competition and once in a lifetime experiences.

that was all very cheesy. but seriously, fucking "dancing with the stars"?

the first warm day of the year i will stay up all night and dance on my lawn blasting andrew w.k.'s I Get Wet rejoicing with likeminded fellows. it will become a ritual practice.

i will disclose this: sometimes i wish many girls threw themselves at me and i had not a care in the world. other times i feel quite the opposite.

who has a row boat?

i wish the world had not turned into a freezer and i felt like writing the intelligent things i wanted to last night.

farewell weekend.

I Can Feel My Legs Growing

today i did battle in windowless rooms with teenage robots in the high school bloodbath known simply as mock trial. our team was unprepared to say the least but we went down swinging.

my hopes were quickly dashed of sexually charged, intellectual, teenage girls playing lawyers when we walked into the room and found a not so ramshackle team of students. they consisted of:

• Fem-Nazi superbot-Obviously their leader, sported glasses and incredibly tight pulled back hair. Very un-sexy.
• Girlbot-Mildly appeared to have downs syndrome. She made the opening statements and slayed my simple, cut the fucking crap approach with an attack from all sides which included alliteration and repetition of points (that were seemingly idiotic)
• Minoritybot-Simply put, she was African-American, which was of no trouble to me or anything. She had braces, probably trying to make her appear more like a normal teenage girl. She fought viciously with an onslaught of perfect objections that I simply did not understand. Therefore, I got pwned.
• Minoritybot (male)-Played the part of defense witness Kinsley Williams. Superb acting. I got absolutely nothing past him in my cross examination. Not that I expected to, I only came up with the questions like 10 minutes before. Fuck.
• Loren Albert-Seemed autistic and unarticulate, at first. But once questions were asked, the kid fired back with wit and segues and long long long side stories that held no relevance. We were hopeless. We did not object. There was one feeble attempt at interupting him, of course being caught by the judge. This attempt was later praised by the very attractive scoring judge. I loved the way she talked
• Pat Clifford-This was going to be the kid that sucked! Long hair, t-shirt. No, he wasn't. He ruled. Putting on the full guise of compu-nerd. I was so dissapointed. He seemed a ray of light! A fellow slacker! My hopes were simply dashed.

So I wrote them a message. Not to be passed onto them (The Friends School A-Team. WTF?!?!?!?! how could they possibly have been so good. Must have been robots.)
here it is:





oh nevermind, I can't find it. fuck. well you get the gist of it. i had a long day and I can feel my legs grow. I am not looking forward to tomorrow.

BFN!

I Like To Talk About Pop Music

i love pop music. i love the way it pops. i love hooky choruses. i love music, but not in the way alot of people say they love music. trust me, they're bullshitting you.

my weekend was filled with estrogren and crazy times with my sister and her friend.

as i listen to this mix i made in the spring time of last year, i wonder why the fuck i put a deerhoof song on it. my dad gave me good logic, to my delight. he said that you can't avoid school so why not do well? so i guess im going to do well. i guess i'll make school my life from now on in order to achieve a 3.2 this quarter. all i can do is work. just hoping won't do shit, holmes.

it is a wonder to me that though the taste of wawa hoagie onions is weak when you are actually eating the hoagie, they let you know that they are there throughout the rest of the day.

things are on the turnaround and i guess i'm getting back in touch, but in other circles. that is good.

does it make sense when i say alot of problems are all in your head and that you made them yourself? there are alot of things that don't need to be problematic, or never were in the first place, or were never even existed. i think people subconciously create alot of their "problems" for self-worth. whatever, our generation sucks.

goodnight

Punctual Punctuation

i, am tired, of the overuse of, commas. i, am also tired of, newfound ideals among some, that they should be incredibly stiff, and grammtically correct, while on, the internet. the internet, was built, for teeangers, such as, us, and welcomed our laziness, to be grammatically incorrect. i wish it would stay that way.

more important stuff later.

99 Problems

in celebration of the rediscovered greatness that is jay-z's the black album, i will imitate my black idol.

NINETY NINE PROBLEMS

1. Bitch, lack of
2. Cold weather patterns
3. Douchebag juniors with frosted blonde hair
4. Lack of perfectly functioning headphones and computer speakers
5. Jabu Jabu's belly
6. Foodsource's strongwilled attempts to suck me back onto their workforce
7. The seemingly neverending search for drivers for my new old Yamaha soundcard for XP.
8. Not enough school pants to get me through the week
9. Not enough jeans to get me through my weekends
10. Finding clothes not made in sweatshops
11. When someone leaves the milk jug in the fridge with two fucking drops of milk left in it
12. Duck walkers (my school contains hundreds...it's like cancer)
13. my computer just restarted, goddamn
14. Lack of memory for my compy here
15. Missing out on an entire evening to see a slow moving play that turned out to be mediocre.
16. I've got 15 minutes to write this thing before Blogger shuts down
17. Urge to move to South Beach and change my name
18. My iTunes is broken so i cant update my iPod
19. My speakers are broken so i can't listen to tunes
20. My peacoat is obsessed with lint these days
21. I'm starving
22. There's no goddam milk in the fridge
23. Itchy socks
24. The need and incredible difficulty to get through all of The Magnetic Fields' 69 Love Songs before the end of the night
25. Convincing my mom the importance of going to Bonnaroo
26. Valentine's Day and my attempts to inform everyone i know that it is in fact, not a real holiday. And not just cos card companies either.
27. Colloquial writing: I never knew it would be so hard to grasp.
28. Staying fly
29. Diarhea
30. Idiots at my school refusing to drop the subject of course selection
31. Those same fuckers bragging about the A.P. courses theyre taking next year
32. Since I tightened my sister's snare drum, I've had this ringing in my brain...
33. Video iPods
34. Hot chocolate
35. S-N-O-W
36. The suprise return/attack of the above, rendering my superpowers useless and leaving me startled
37. The perfect balance of honey and mustard to make honey mustard
38. Tomorrow is sunday
39. Scene bands
40. The generic names of scene bands
41. The generic sounds of scene bands
42. Brian fucking Pierce
43. Xanga
44. My wariness of the oncoming confusion that is the Forest Temple. I vow not to use a walkthrough. Not until the end.
45. My computer monitor is so super heavy
46. The entire state of Delaware, except the beautifully proportioned bank buildings in Wilmington
47. Dave Haines
48. This is only the halfway point of this whole deal
49. I can't seem to shake the greatness that is Jay-Z's "My First Song"
50. I can't freestyle
51. I can't throw down a hot beat
52. Foodsource is still paying me 6.90 an hour. I should be making 8.00+.
53. I need to file taxes
54. Lion and the Pride E.P.
55. Snaggletooth
56. Unarticulate speakers/writers
57. Rolling Stone Magazine (save for David Fricke and Tom Moon's occasional contributions)
58. 25 minutes til midnight!
59. The year 2006
60. Cars
61. Pollution
62. Sweatshop labor
63. When it snows, then the sun comes out the next day. It looks like shit, makes me feel like shit, shit shit shit.
64. The realization that this entry is not going the way I want it to. Oh well.
    
65. Myspace's general population from my area
66. Cliches
67. O.A.R. kid/"Surfer" hair. You know what I'm talking about. Long, to about above the eyebrows, and a little longer than the collar in the bag. Just barely pushing school limits. Flared out above the ears. Sported by kids who like bad jam bands and claim to surf. Especially those who try to prove to you they surf by showing you some pictures that were taking from the shoreline on a cloudy day. Oh yeah okay, that blur on the wave is you? Niccccceeee one brah, hows your Merrick? Hows yr quiver comin?
68. Reoccuring headaches
69. When people laugh at this number
70. I need to mow the lawn again. I'm craving it.
71. "Serious" relationships
72. Tinsel
73. My dad's not so handy workmanship
74. The smell of urine
75. Gregorian chant
76. Father Connolly
77. Itching for my next door neighbors move, so I can know whats in store for the next 2.5 years
78. Fractions
79. The O.C.
80. Flathead screwdrivers
81. Dave Haines convincing everyone I have bike shorts. These shorts are nonexistent.
82. The fear I will now always have when biking down Route 52. I quoth Haines: "I saw you ridin' down 52 the other day. I had the inclination to run you over." And it has been said.
83. Slurred speech
84. Any red candy, unless its raspberry
85. Candy, for the time being
86. Lack of a neverending supply of Vitamin Water
87. The general consensus is that I am a dick
88. This entry is almost too epic
89. This entry has been three days in the making, so numbers 1-23 are practically over and done with
90. Tourism
91. Fake anarchists
92. Cruises
93. 6 Minutes, 6 Problems
94. Poseurs
95. Rotting bananas!
96. The smell of piss
97. People who have abandoned their bikes
98. Latin-2
99. Celebrities now skinny who i once loved...Lindsay, Nicole, Hilary...

Varioust Artists

props to mike for an equally grammaticaly incorrect and profound entry on the tying of feelings to the heart. read it here. i think i should be including more links and things, you know, so its more blog like.

HORSE the band? amazing. there is no better go to album than R. Borlax. seriously.

Relevance (Two)

i realized that how much i fight against the constant subconcious quest for relevance amongst my peers and fuckers i hate, i will end up laughing all the way to the grave. the reason goes like this: i will become a music journalist. i will interview lots of bands i love and make friends with them. i will die young, ala lester bangs. my funeral will be a blowout that cries "relevancy!" with a cannonball headed straight for salesianum. these rockstars i will have befriended will be at my funeral. magazine staff will be at my funeral. there will be a piece about me in said magazine. this particular issue will be a valued item in the back catalog!
look at lester bangs!
look at hunter s. thompson!
johnny DEPP attended his funeral. none of you will be able to say the same, i am the best. or i will be, when im dead.
i say all you (girls, mostly) who set up livejournals and xangas and myspaces and constantly beg for comments, and have not only an AIM account but an MSN, jabber, and yahoo account, should stop. let the attention come to you. let it be won, not asked for. it will be paid back in full. i do it effortlessly. im kind of getting spacey here. actually this whole entry is completely ridiculous, i thought it may be good, but its shit. but ill try to save it

well i dont know if anyone knows what im talking about. if you think about it, everywhere you go, especially since abd because the internet, there are peopl vying for your attention . its mainly the internet. pretty much. you cant deny the bulletins vying for comments, or the pictures labeled im so ugly. the xanga entries claiming not enough comments. none of these people are even saying anything good! i dont know. i wish the internet didnt exist. i was talking to my friends older sister, heather. she grew up as a teenager in the nineties, pre-internet boom etc. everything was so different back then. there werent trends like there are now, her friends were centered around her school, and if you were original, or not popular, you were truly different and truly stood out. life was peach, i guess. but now yeah theres all this striving for feedback, and then conflict starting because of this. i dont give a fuck who tells you what or what they say, "drama" is generally bullshit. we'll call it conflict from here on out because an argument and shit talking is not DRAMA its CONFLICT. fuck. anyway, people say shit about someone, then the other person makes a big deal about themselves because they want to make themselves feel more like i dont know what the fuck im getting at. ill stop. seriously. all i can say is thoose fights? theyre fucking petty and bullshit and are just retarded and the point im saying is...


these things would not have gone on 10 years ago, and the reasons why:

• desire to live in other places, i.e. california (our area wouldve been our area. we wouldve been happy with it. there would be no MTV barrage of california culture. there would be no "glamorous" Paris Hilton culture all over magazines and movies. no reality tv. no OC.)
• drama-for several reasons
• the spread of gossip would not be nearly as quick (no IM/email/myspace, no cell phones, no desire to spread the said gossip)
• the word drama would be used in the correct fucking context. as in not referring to what i love to call conflict.
• there were distinct groups and social hierarchies. it only mattered if the people in these groups talked shit on their fellow group members. the lines are too blurred now.
• people got out more. i dont know how this is different now, or how it plays into it but it just makes sense to me.
• ridiculous shit, i just dont know, okay? i just wish it were differentl. i hate the internet. i wish the house phone/landline wasnt obsolete. i wish there were still cool high school relationships instead of the two extremes that exist-stupid fake long term relationships (10 months +) and meaningless short term relationships (1 month -). i wish there were distinct grade separtations. i wish there were more fights.
  

I GUESS THE BOTTOM FUCKING LINE IS I WISH I WAS BORN IN 1981. MY GENERATION AND PEERS FUCKING SUCK, THEY MAKE NO SENSE TO ME. MUSIC TODAY SUCKS. I HATE SCENE KIDS. I HATE PEOPLE WHO JUST RUIN SHIT. I HATE CELL PHONES, I HATE INTERNET, I HATE MYSPACE, I HATE "DRAMA", I HATE THE FUCKING OC.

i need to stop, call me a hypocrite.

this took about an hour to finish. please read it.

Jesus Solved His Problems By Inviting People Over

this weekend: failed.

oh, AOL Instant Messenger! I never knew you could be the cause of so many of my troubles.

Fight! Break! Fight!

i swear to god, i VOW (!) that by the end of the year, i will have punched logan mooney in the face, and then defend myself in the brawl that surely will follow. logan mooney is the epitome of douchebag. logan thinks he is black. he wears baggy black dickies every day, shirt untucked and huge. douchebag buzzcut, douchebag look on his face.
every day in chemistry, it's like hes required to ask a question like an asshole ("um, correct me if i'm wrong but..."), with mock smarty pants intonation.
then he'll get in his group with dylan granger, anthony campinella, et al... and they will talk about how they fucked a girl that weekend in a hot tub or any other stereotypical place teenagers get fucked.
he must go down.
and he will not go down without a left hook to the bridge of his nose by me. sure he will retaliate. sure there will be posse members. but i will no doubt put forth valiant effort, and no one will forget whose blood was spilled on the bricks at monkey hill in a historic move no one will forget. it won't just be a fight between me and logan. it will be a fight against the monotony, hipocrisy, and creativity hindering prison that is my school. fuck! it will be epic.i will be carried off in the arms of anonymous padua girls, trailed by the faithful onlookers that are my peers. and in the background, logan and his stunned posse of dickheads and italians. logan yells "gallagher this won't be the end! i beat you today, i'll beat you again!" and so on. but no one turns around. we keep pressing on.

okay enough of that fantasy. it will happen, i swear.