Marc
Consider the Great Escape into the Movie Escapade Dead: I've been too lazy (both figuratively and literally - Blockbuster is still expecting the prompt return of The X-Men and Full Metal Jacket, which both seem to be more than one day overdue). I've been too sticky to get off the couch and go throw them in the drop slot, or to do pretty much anything else for that matter. Case in point:I haven't had a drop of alcohol this weekend, save the one Bass that I had with dinner tonight. Suck on that, bitches.
And my posts have been shitty, too, so consider this one a make-up. I feel like I owe this thing for something, but I can't seem to figure out what. I'm always wondering stupid shit like "maybe the guy who puts up blogs of note decided to stop by here and saw that it was retarded" or "maybe someone is reading our page for the first time today and there's nothing interesting on it". I'm a worrier sometimes, but only selectively. Case in point: I've had three weeks (and then some) to do this paper that's due tomorrow. When did I finally sit down and write it? Today. School = I don't worry about. Our stupid BLARG = plenty of worry.
Four CD's I'd Thought I Lost: yet somehow magically stumbled upon in my car two days ago - (1) Spoon, "Girls Can Tell", quite possibly the best straightforward rock album that I've listened to this year (2) Henry Rollins, "PhD in Bullshit", the man is a genius, and nothing else need be said (3) Smoking Popes, "Destination Failure", beautifully catchy pop songs, a crime to not have in your own collection (4) Braid, "Frame and Canvas", do you need a Case in point: for this one? Because if you do, you probably shouldn't be here. Go cyber-somewhere else. Keep in mind that these were in my car, and were not lost due to neglect, or sheer forgetfullnes. In fact, with the exception of the Rollins one, I was seriously considering going down to DEADPAN ALLEY and shelling out some cash all over again. New discs make me giddy, no matter which ones they are. I guarantee, had I done that, I still would have ripped through the shrink wrapping and gone through the artwork anyways.
Parking Lot Kickball, Version 2.0: was hashed out tonight a mere street width away in the abandoned Manchester Dormitory parking lot. We had somewhere between 10 to 14 people on board, two teams of six or so. Three outs per inning, two foul balls = strike out, peg a runner in motion and he/she is out, the notebooks equal first-second-third base, the old tire equals homeplate, an overthrow is an automatic base, a bounce over the parking blocks in left field = ground rule double, more than two bounces means it's still in play, etc. etc. etc. Great fun. I even got to wear mesh shorts this time. I felt like a real athlete.
Okay, I feel better now. Welcome back to the Superhero. Happy to be of service. Any questions, or concerns about the material presented, please feel free to contact us. A'ight?
Consider the Great Escape into the Movie Escapade Dead: I've been too lazy (both figuratively and literally - Blockbuster is still expecting the prompt return of The X-Men and Full Metal Jacket, which both seem to be more than one day overdue). I've been too sticky to get off the couch and go throw them in the drop slot, or to do pretty much anything else for that matter. Case in point:I haven't had a drop of alcohol this weekend, save the one Bass that I had with dinner tonight. Suck on that, bitches.
And my posts have been shitty, too, so consider this one a make-up. I feel like I owe this thing for something, but I can't seem to figure out what. I'm always wondering stupid shit like "maybe the guy who puts up blogs of note decided to stop by here and saw that it was retarded" or "maybe someone is reading our page for the first time today and there's nothing interesting on it". I'm a worrier sometimes, but only selectively. Case in point: I've had three weeks (and then some) to do this paper that's due tomorrow. When did I finally sit down and write it? Today. School = I don't worry about. Our stupid BLARG = plenty of worry.
Four CD's I'd Thought I Lost: yet somehow magically stumbled upon in my car two days ago - (1) Spoon, "Girls Can Tell", quite possibly the best straightforward rock album that I've listened to this year (2) Henry Rollins, "PhD in Bullshit", the man is a genius, and nothing else need be said (3) Smoking Popes, "Destination Failure", beautifully catchy pop songs, a crime to not have in your own collection (4) Braid, "Frame and Canvas", do you need a Case in point: for this one? Because if you do, you probably shouldn't be here. Go cyber-somewhere else. Keep in mind that these were in my car, and were not lost due to neglect, or sheer forgetfullnes. In fact, with the exception of the Rollins one, I was seriously considering going down to DEADPAN ALLEY and shelling out some cash all over again. New discs make me giddy, no matter which ones they are. I guarantee, had I done that, I still would have ripped through the shrink wrapping and gone through the artwork anyways.
Parking Lot Kickball, Version 2.0: was hashed out tonight a mere street width away in the abandoned Manchester Dormitory parking lot. We had somewhere between 10 to 14 people on board, two teams of six or so. Three outs per inning, two foul balls = strike out, peg a runner in motion and he/she is out, the notebooks equal first-second-third base, the old tire equals homeplate, an overthrow is an automatic base, a bounce over the parking blocks in left field = ground rule double, more than two bounces means it's still in play, etc. etc. etc. Great fun. I even got to wear mesh shorts this time. I felt like a real athlete.
Okay, I feel better now. Welcome back to the Superhero. Happy to be of service. Any questions, or concerns about the material presented, please feel free to contact us. A'ight?
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