What a fascinating modern age we live in.

Yet again, I find myself unable to discuss the economic impact of NAFTA on Mexico. Why the hell do I have to do a group presentation senior year anyway? "To help you learn to work as a team"? Sorry, sister, if I can't do that by now, I'm not going to. So just save us the trouble. Besides, I'm just doing my own part anyway. I'm the damn ninja of that group: spoken about in hushed whispers, appearing via email every now and then. But I digress...

I DO have Word open here, and as it is a campus computer, I am not the first. Additionally, people save the randomest of shit on here. So, I've taken to reading other word documents saved on here. It started with a title called "Men" and I thought it would be some big rant on how horrible (or wonderful) the Hairier Sex is; turns out it was just about the domineering male characters in such hunks of shit as The Awakening. But it did pique my interest, and now I'm cyber-stalking the campus.

For the record, Julia, that sounds like a very solid relationship you've got there, and I really hope it works out. And really interesting lineage, as well. Oh, and Nassir, you're right Malcom X and King DID have lots of stuff in common. And to whoever wrote the review of Second to None, leave your name!! How else can I randomly mention you? As an aside, I rationalize this little foray into randomness and invasion of privacy as: it's a public fucking computer, and I wouldn't care if someone did this to my stuff. In fact, I hope they do, because I'm quite articulate and concise. Maybe I could get a fanbase, outside of Nikki and Drie.

Also, I found myself in the unfortunate position to be in my car for my hour and a half commute sans my CD collection, which is extensive, so I listened to the radio for the first time in awhile. After grooving to Golddigger for a bit (I'm still not tired of it, and Late Registration rocks the house), I switched over to 97x, "Tampa Bay's New Rock Alternative." 97x is neither new, rock nor alternative. In fact, I'm annoyed at the current trend of whiney emo music with loud riffs and high pitched singers (The White Stripes don't count because everything up to their latest album has rocked hard, and Mr. White doesn't whine). If you cheer up, a la Hot Hot Heat, then rock on. But for fuck's sake, quit bitching. Life is rough and treats you bad, so deal with it. Or be concise and interesting in the way you bitch.

If anyone is in Tampa, check out 88.5. I know I'm part hippy for advocating public radio, but they play the most random of shit. Where else would you hear ANYTHING by the Flaming Lips, or Tom Morello covering an Indigo Girls tune?

TKO Tuesday

Wh0 would win in a head to head Tailgate Cooking competition: Bobby Flay or Rachel Ray?

Another example of the Man keeping Whitey down.

Today, I completed my first training day at the Palm Harbor Ale House, one of many Miller's (not the brew) Ale Houses in the south. The people are cuter, the pay is better, and the store is closer than my current Straunt job at Ruby Tuesday's (although, I will no longer be working at the namesake of a throwaway reference by Kanye West). I spent the weekend sweating bullets about how I was going to pass my drug test for the job, as the DAY before I applied, I met up with some friends for some ganja rocking. I know, I know, I'm such a ne'r-do-well. But I digress. Here is some of the advice I got from various individuals:

Mike (Ruby's cook, currently on probabtion)- Wow, man, you've got like a fifty fifty shot of passing this thing. Drink tons of green tea and cranberry juice. And lose the fat that the THC is chilling in.

Mike's Parole Officer (as told by Mike to me)- The only thing I've ever heard working was to put a little bit of clorine on your fingers and piss over them. But if you try that shit, I'll bring you down hard.

Kevin (the dishwasher)- My brother was on parole and he said every time he had to piss, he spit in the cup. But I don't believe him.

Bishop- You want some of my piss?

Lee (my old Straunt manager)- Oh, you're screwed dude. When I was a manager at another restaraunt, I'd tell people 'Look, just shoot me straight, can you pass this test? And if not, that's cool, and we'll just reschedule it.' So, I'd just be honest with the guy

My Dad- Apparently, the best thing to do is Test Pure. It's a mix akin to gatorade. I've heard that that works. From other people. Not myself.

Turns out, I was worried over nothing. They only test in the event of an accident, as opposed to a prerequisite for getting the job. Because, as my trainer Brenda said, "Oh, God no. The restaraunt business would shut down."

Truer words were never spoken.

TKO Tuesday

Who would win in an all out slugfest between a drunken Bigfoot and the resurrected, zombified corpse of Bear Bryant? Keep in mind that he got his nickname wrestling a bear at a state fair when he was younger.

I'm totally rushing Broke Phi Broke in the spring. Even if I am white.

I'm currently sitting in the computer lab--sorry, "Information Commons"--in the library on campus, filling out a student loan application. I tried to do it through the school, but they said I was only eligible for $80/ semester. Yes, you read that right. Eighty goddamn dollars. Per semester. Now granted, this is because I recieve mucho dinero to cover tuition, books, etc., but still. Why even offer $80 as a loan? You'd think at that amount, they'd just be like "ah, hell, here ya go. Get hammerd on us." So now I get to borrow privately, and given my shitty credit, I will know the joys of high interest rates down the road. All I know is, they better have a deferrment deal so I dont have to start paying in Law School. Because that would suck. The money I'll be borrowing then will be needed for, y'know, law school (read- enormous bar tabs/ gambling debts in either Charlottesville, Gainesville, or St. Petersburg).

I might not necessarily need the money, if it weren't for the other debts in my life; namely, car insurance (for some reason Geico is pissed that I've gotten seven tickets, totalled one car, and rear-ended a BMW with another. Buncha assholes...), gas for a 1.5 hour commute every day (I vote we invade Canada and just take their oil. But Haliburton probably has it all already, and just wastes it like Malcolm McDowell's character in Tank Girl does with water), and day-to-day shit (Jager bombs can get pricey. And I was somewhere the other day, and had to pay TWELVE GODDAMN DOLLARS for a double SoCo and Coke. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!?!?!?)

But man, when I get the money, I'm gonna party like the SATs- hard, and with minors.

I've just noticed the propensity of people walking around, waiting for someone to leave, while Im just sitting here, screwing around (by this point). I'm hoping one of them will ask if I'm about to leave, at which point I'll say "Yeah," then just sit around for another 10 to 15. That will make me giddy, like when my hispanic friend Whody refuses to talk Spanish to tables at the restaraunt (or Straunt, as I like to call it.) The last time that happened, I actually jumped up and down, pumping my fists in the air. I dropped change outta my pocket. I don't know why I love that, but I do. Maybe it's because its so entirely frustrating to take care of a table of four who can't effectively communicate with me. But I digress.

I had some other stuff to say, but I tried saving the draft earlier and it didnt work. So this will have to do. Although I do love ending shit with random quotes, so here goes-

Ian-So this chick thinks she might have mono.
Bishop (without skipping a beat)- Can you get mono through your dick?

It Begins...

Fed up with the bureaucracy of Court "El Jefe" Sullivan, I'm going under the radar, starting my blog. Soon my following will be enough to topple the Court Jester and burn his empire asunder. Or it will get linked to PIC. Either way, really.


I would go into a big "this is what my blog will be about" thing, but I don't think I will because 1) you'll get a feel for the blog after a little bit, and 2) I'm pretty lazy.


Fuck the University of Pittsburgh. They defeated my beloved Bulls yesterday to the tune of 31-17. It was, in a word, brutal (or so I heard, I was waiting tables at the time). This loss shows that the domination of Louisville three weeks ago was indeed a fluke, as the Bulls are not NEARLY consistent enough to be any real threat. Our homecoming is this Saturday against the conference leaders, West Virginia. This game will make or break us in terms of post season play. I plan on getting royally smashed to properly take in the game. Oh, and with luck, Ill be able to tell you about my attempts to get my Store Manager and District Manager hammered.


This weekend, I was disenfranchised by the King of Franchises, McDonald’s. After playing online poker for an hour or two, my associates and myself decide to make a run to the 24 D’s near his place. No dice, the building is being remodeled (so perhaps I was really disfranchised). “Fuck that,” says I, “I want some goddamn McDonald’s now.” My friends agree, and thirty-five minutes later we’re in the drive through line at another 24 hr McDonald’s, this one near a quite famous strip club in Tampa. We get in line at 4:45 (AM) and when we get to the order screen, we are told to head to the first window to place the order. Begrudgedly, we accept this, commenting the whole time that “this is a whole helluva lot to go through for some Mickey D’s.” But I remain hopeful. Despite all our problems, this McDonald’s will be the best we’ve ever had. I was sure of it. So anyway, we get to the window, and he informs us that they’re selling breakfast now (it’s 5:20 by this point). Dejected, we left with nary a nugget. Upon being on the road for a few, it dawns on me that had we been able to place our order at the screen, we would have been able to make the five o’clock time. Fortunately for them, I was too tired by that point to be really pissed off.


Though looking back on it now, I’m becoming frustrated with late night dining in general. As a connoisseur of eating past 2 in the morning, I’ve had it with fantastically long waits and inexplicably shitty food. McDonalds, Steak N’ Shake, Denny’s, get your act together!! You KNOW everyone will be coming by later, so put an extra man in the kitchen and another person on the floor, for Chrissakes! I’m a server; I know the job isn’t that hard. Let’s join together today to create a better tomorrow night/early next morning.

And why the hell is “chrysies” in my spell check dictionary, but “chrissakes” isn’t?