Today I was thinking about some foods I hate. The number one food I hate is Celery. I think satan is behind the whole business. Seriously it is a worthless food to me, and it blows my mind that other people can possibly eat it at all. But today I consumed Blue Cheese Dressing. Gaahhh, (icky stuff sound). I don't like the idea of eating mold. Mold is what happens when food becomes uneatable (not sure if that is a word or not). Also Mushrooms disgust me. Fungus is something you pick up from a dirty shower or a wrestling room floor, or by wrestling in the shower. Anything that grows directly in shit should not be put anywhere near your mouth. Your mom should have taught you that at age 5. Yeah so no more fungaseses or molds. Infact anything that produces spores should be not be considered for human consumption. E-ghad. I just wanted to say E-ghad.

I hate the word porn. Don't get me wrong, I love porn (in most of it's many, many forms), but still the word is so dirty and makes even me a little ashamed. Can't we think of a better world, or Maybe a whole new Phrase. Hows about "Instructional Video Meant to be veiwed by Adults" well that was kinda lame, but it sure beats something to give yourself a hand shanty to. Or Whack-a-film. Yeah that is foul. not fowl like geese. That is a different fowl and I am disappointed in you. you get an F, an F for the day

my clubhouse

Anyone who was a child at one time or another, had or tried to make a secret club. I remember I had one, and I am sure you can look fondly deep into your memories and think of your club, unless your club involved smoking pot, because then you can't remember shit. Anyways, does that dream of having a secret club ever disapear from our minds. I don't think so. Especially not for guys. Some guys get to make their dreams a reality, and open up a club. A lot like your original childhood club, well except for the loud music, expensive lighting, the drinking, you can't forget the drinking, but the most contradictory change is that of the most basic rule of a boys clubhouse. NO GIRLS ALLOWED. That rule has been shit on from the first time one of your buddies had his first squeak and sprouted some hair you know where. It seems like in modern clubs, the rule is not only girls welcome, but Girls only sometimes. Some clubs in the adult world do not violate the golden rule of childhood club housery, they instead continue to keep women away, Things like the lions club and the Elks and other places were old men go to bitch about their wives and get so drunk they can't remember what pills to take what day, or if they can't remember your name, it might not be a dabilitaing disease, just excessive drinking, or if they were a member of the afore mentioned pot smoking club. Well I demand a resurgance of the old ways of the clubhouse. I encourage everyone everywhere, gather together 3 or 4 friends, get a few cardboard boxes and whatever you can steal from the Neighbors back yard and go make your own club house.

I don't get poetry that doesn't rhyme. What seperates this paragraph that I am typing right now, from a poem. Is it how I write it? Is it in how it is said or spoken. Next time you read one of my blogs make sure you put in a lot of dramtic pauses and emphasise some of the more important words (like boobies or nipples). But I do give poets credit for their ability to lie. Without that talent poems would suck on a completely different level. Like when a poet says "her eyes were bluer than the deepest of oceans". Sweet huh, but if we were honest all the time they you might get something along the lines of, "It was generally accepted that she had eyes that were rather blue, possibly bluer than the north Atlanic from N 58' to N 110'." Also historic peoms would be missing some of their luster. "The face that luanched a thousand ships" wouldn't be nearly as effective as "The face that launched 405 cruisers, 100 Battleships, and 5 tugboats." (let's face it tugboats ruin anything that may have had to oppertunity to be sweet or Romantic.) And most importantly that brings me to my final point. The Atkins diet. (It really didn't bring me to the final point, but I needed a segway.) There has never possibly been a bigger crock of shit than the Atkins diet. Maybe the idea of clear pepsi was worse, but maybe not. Anyways anything that encourages you to eat unlimited bacon, but claims unholy war against something wholesome such as corn. CORN? They say "it's full of starch" and I say, "yeah it doesn't have nearly as much saturated fat as bacon so therefore it must be bad for you." I will admit that the diet works, for a little, but then as soon as you start enjoying normal foods and stop neglecting the food pyramid then you gain it back. There is a simplier way to lose weight. And what is that Jon? Lipo suction. That or not being lazy. Anyways I would love to wirite more, but as soon as I finish I am going to sleep

Ron Jeremy

Tonight I had a once in a life time oppertunity. I got to see Ron Jeremy speak to our college in a debate about porn. Most of my readers (ok readers is a strong word, how about casual glancers) know that I would naturaly be pro porn. (not porn pro. Not yet at least.) For some reason my better judgement took over and stopped me from doing something with body paint expressing my love for boobs, or my sign idea, "Ron Jeremy, Master Debater, he'll do it all night long". So anyways I went and I was not disappointed. The greasy little sex god indeed sat before me and spoke of his art. His oppenent accused his work as filth and not art. And I thought that art is something you create, sometimes with your hands, sometimes with other parts of the body, so POINT RON. So anyways Ron kept laying into her and most of the student body was on his side. (student body, hahaha, porn, hahahah, ok I feel better) Anyways, how did a hairy sweaty midget become the biggest Male sex symbol. I might not be big in the looks department, but the man has been in over 1700 adult films. And as a student in the school that Little Jeremy built, I must stop to wonder, How in the hell is he attractive. And then I realized it. The porn producers must have realized if everyone saw this little hairy guy getting it done so often then we should all feel confident that eventually we will all get that one nurse who gives us "extra care", or that one teacher that you needed you to do some "extra Credit", or maybe that crappy summer job you had dilevering Pizzas would finally pay off, leading to the classic, "there's got to be some way my openminded roomate and I could pay for all this Pizza." Well no matter what the reason Mr. Jeremy has reached the status of sexual Tyranasuar, and that should be respected. Many young American males, myself included would salute him, but well you get the idea, idel hands and all.

Life is rough if your a coyote

Wile E Coyote, what a poor bastard, the other day my roomates and I had a long discussion about cartoons and I thought he was the worst off. But now when think about it, he can't be that bad off. Yeah he has never caught the Road Runner, and I am sure that has to bother him, but at least he has a purpose in life. And he's got to be rich right, how else would you be able to order that many rockets and anvils. Acme Shipping is really cleaning up on that same day dilevery shit way out in the desert. How can he afford it, well I figure it's one of two things. Issurance fraud is my first guess. With all those accidents where he falls of a cliff, gets hit by a truck, or crushed by a boulder I assume his insurance settlements are through the roof. That or it's a government sponsered job to help thin out the Road Runner Population. Some ridiculous program started in the 60's that just never got cancelled. I assume it's the latter and he has acess to a goverment health plan, I mean talk about fast recovery, the little guy has to be in and out of the hospital at least two or three times a day. So next time you are sitting on your couch watching him get tossed off a 300 foot cliff by a rocket, and followed by 5 of the biggest rocks you have ever seen, smile on the inside, because that's your tax dollars at work.

People look at me funny sometimes when I do things that I admit aren't normal, but I have my reasonable.... reasons. Like today I was washing my shoes because they got dirty while hiking. My brain works like this,
SHOES = Dirty
SHOES = Clothes
WASHING MACHINE = Clean Clothes
How can I make SHOES = clean, well I used the reflexive and distrubative theroms and came up with SHOES in WASHING MACHINE=CLEAN. Hell yeah, so I kick those monsters off and hucked em into the wash. One of the RA's in our common rooms looked at me like she was disgusted with the thought of my beastly shoes spinning around in the same place where her clothes get clean. I imagine my underwear are just as dirty as my shoes and that doesn't bother most people. It will now though, I just got my own washer. Anyways in a few minutes I am going to get my soaking wet shoes out of the Washer. And then I am going to do another load of spoons and forks, Improvised dishwashers.

Requirements to go to UPG: Female

Today I was wondering what was up with the girls here on Campus, and knowing my crazy tiger like sexuality (ok more like old house cat like sexuality) I was wondering why none of them seemed to even care. About this time I realized that to go here at University of Pittsburg at Greensburg the girls had to fill out a different form with different requirements. Yeah the whole grade transcripts and SAT bullshit is the same, but they must have a different application then the penis endowed do. There's must go something like. Do you have a current Boyfriend at your highschool or back home? (Yes/No), If so, Could you go visit him every weekend leaving campus deserted? (Yes/No), If the Answer to #1 is a No, Would you be willing to make amends with an old boyfriend just to stick it to all the guys on campus? (Yes/No), Would you be willing to bring up your boyfriend in everyday conversation just for spite? (Yes/No) If not, would you just sigh whenever something reminds you of him? (Yes/No), To all Upper Classmen: If you are single do you smoke, Would you be willing to start and continue CONSTANTLY to totally disgust most people on Campus? Notice Occasional smoking is not an option, must be chain. (Yes/No) Thank you for applying and helping to stick it to our incoming freshman guys.

Seriously it seems like all the girls are just here to frustrate us. I hope I am wrong, Please GOD let me be wrong, if you are a girl and some how passed the screening exams, and want to hang out let me know, UNIVERSITY COURTS C-001 Ext. 9977. Just kidding I am having a great time dealing with it all, and frustrated or not, my hand always puts out, because if I am in the mood, SO AM I.

Creepy thoughts

Now a college student, (you may notice a decrease in the amount of grammar errors, probably not) I like to party. And while laying in some level of sobering-upness, I wondered did my parents party. The answer of course is yes, Yes they did, and Yes, Yes they still do. But then I think of the things I do at parties or specifically after the party, like wander around drunk and when the spirits move me, vomit in communal showers. Did my parents act like this. Well maybe not in showers for say, but in my experience, Yes they do stager around and yes they do throw up on random things, That thought is nothing though compared to the one that unfortunately crossed my mind next. Did My GrandParents Party. Take a minute. Take a Breath. Get a glass of water, you will need it for what is coming your way. Ok finish your drink, no don't gulp it down like that, that's a good way to get indigestion, god. Anyways, for me personally I know that at one time way back in the land of Wind and Fire, just after the Dinosaurs, that yes my grandparents did infact party. But when I think of them partying I don't think of young grand parents, I think more along the lines of them now a days partying. I see my grandma up on a table swinging around listening to the newest Jock Jams CD. And in the Corner my Grandpa slamming down 5 shots in a row, grabbing the old lady by the legs and helping her do a keg stand. This really disturbs me, but when I think about it even more I get to a point when it gets so disturbing it gets funny again. And think about the end of a party, if shit hits the fan, the cops come and everyone runs away. Think of your respective grandparent high-tailing out of some kid's basement (or handicap asscesable living room) Out in to the back yard, trying to jump the fence, falling, breaking hips, or dragging along an I V bag or Oxygen as tank as they haul ass down some back street. Even funnier think about your granny with a fake ID trying to get in a club or score some booze. How about your gramps with a bunch of his friends at a toga party. Hmmm I wonder is the depends would be covered by a toga. DON'T TRY TO FIGURE THAT OUT, you will just want to stab a Q-tip into your Brain to end the Nightmares. So next time your out parting just think about what your doing and imagine yourself being old, you won't be able to stop laughing, that or stop drinking, either way it will make the night memorable (except if it's drinking, you won't remember shit)