Life Goals

Ok now that I realize I just might live to 21 and past it I decided I might need some direction in those years following. Therefore I have compiled a list of things I want to do before I die. or am attached to a super action death robot to lead my evil minions in a sweep across the war torn world. (I won't have a lot of time for fun when I am a death robot)

1. Climb Mt McKinnley: I have always wanted to beat a mountian and I can't think of a better one than the tallest in America


2. See lava with my own eyes: yeah it looks cool as hell on TV so I am sure it looks much cooler being there. Also if I have any enimies I could toss them into said lava at that time.

3. Eat Puma meat: Preferably one that I hunted but I won't be picky.

4. Write a book: probably of the childrens variety cause I just love pictures

5. Visit all of the continents: This one isn't that funny at all, but the next one should make up for it.

6. Chase a penguin: Don't get me wrong I love the little guys but whenever I see them waddling around I just want to chase them around and totally dominate in a game of tag

7. Sky dive 5 times: I think doing it once is not enough, but anything over 5 times is just pushing your luck

8. Brew my own beer: This one will be pretty easy with the whole family of alcohol that I come from, but I still really want to do it.

9. Sleep for 24 hours: Seriously I want to wake up one day and just wonder what the hell happened.

10. Visit all 50 States: I have to know if Wyoming really exists or if it's just a black hole

11. Survive for a week in the Wilderness: Yeah that's right I have to be Macho, and that is my
best shot at it.

12. Hike all of the App. Trail: by sections, not all at once. thats just buck wild craziness

That's about it so far. So I can't die until I do all of those things. (or accept my new metal body either)

When will it end

The other night I was at a resturant or eating hole if you will, and I noticed on the table there was a little recpiticle for the jellies. Personally I perfer to peruse the preserves before I partake. (Yeah just getting some allertation rolling) Well my journey through the jellies would jump to a junction I could never have imagined (OK that's the last one for a while). Anyways I found a jelly marked Diet Grape. DIET Jelly. OH yeah let that one soak in for a bit. Yep all the way in there, to the bone. Uh huh, too many callories in that regular jelly. I know I feel bloated after some toast if I use the regular Jelly. Maybe not buttering the toast would help. Actually according to the packet, the diet variant had 11 calories compaired the obviously over endulgant 30 sported by most REGULAR grape jellies. At what point do the 19 calories really make or break your diet. That 19 calories equates to about (this part is mostly collage specific show my younger readers may not eat these foods) 1/20 of a bowl of Ramen noodles, a 10th of a cup of cocoa, a few noodles of easy mac, and 1/21st of a bag of butter popcorn. I also figured it's approximately 1/30th of a can of baked beans, possibly a piece of peperonni, or a pickle from a McDonalds Sandwich. SO I say take the pickles off your hamburger, or don't eat those few kernels of popcorn that fall on the floor, and go ahead and splurge, get the real jelly. (see I didn't even make a comment about the word splurge, ah who am I kidding, its such a silly word) Anyways yes I did taste the diet jelly and it tasted like doo doo. It had a flavor not unlike watered down, flat grape soda.

Thanksgiving in a Pot

Here is another quick recipie for everyone to try. Just a warning before we get started, this meal tastes delicious, but may be extremely harmful to your health. Do not consume massive quantities, or you will definately suffer the consequences. Thanksgiving in a Pot is not for people with Heart Conditions, a history of strokes, the elderly, those who are pregnant, or might become pregnant during the meal.
This dish is fairly simple. First you will need leftovers from thanksgiving: turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn, and gravy) Then you should secure a large can of baked beans. The more different varieties of cheese you have the better. I recomend American, Pepper Jack, and Cheddar. That is all you need.

Empty the can of beans into the pot, nasty juices and all, then stir in turkey and the more starchy of the leftovers (mashed potatos, stuffing), next add the vegtables, and then start shedding the cheese. Add the torn up cheese, and then stir in the gravy. Heat it on Medium heat for about 10 minutes, letting it all mix together and allow the cheese to complete melt. Remove from the stove, and let congeal for 5 minutes, serve in large bowls. Feeds 2. maybe.

1st Ever Super Happy Fatal Ice Slide of Death (Which can murder you till you die, or mortally would you to your deceasement)

First off, what a title. If nothing else that follows is worth anything it's ok to me because I really like that tittle. I will try my best to do it justice.
I got home and spent most of my break with my best friend Dwight Decker. His middle initial was clinically proven to add too much awesomeness to his name and therefore has been removed until further notification by the Surgeon General. It's A. Anyways I want to focus on a key event of that break with the explanation of that fantastic title you can find at the top of the page. At the Dwights house, (also known as the Deckers Lair) some one left a tub out on the side of the house. This tub in anticipation for our arrival this past weekend has been filling itself with rain water and then freezing when the temperature gets low enough. Apon seeing this frozen tub we decided that we needed to use the gaint ice chunk in a ridiculous manor. We thought that is removed from the tub the ice would definately slide down a hill, possibly holding a rider at the same time. Early on Saturday morning I set about smashing the ice chunk out of the tub. When it was all said and done the chunk turned out to be more of a disk. I will try to show the demensions down here.
_______________
/______________\ 4" thick X 2' wide
Anyways we took a really rugged dolly, (it had 4 wheels, 2 of which were like all-terrian dolly tires. Just incase you needed to deliver a fridge, to the top of Mount McKinley.) and loaded up the ice block and carried up the hill to a little side street with less traffic but a really steep decline. Unfortunately for us the top section of the hill wasn't steep enough for the ice to slide right, but after a few attempts we found that the 2nd half was perfect for the slide. Sitting on a gaint slice of ice we would slide down the hill and then crash into the intersection and tumble off into the cinders or the manhole cover. Mr. Decker had the only completely sucessful ride as he was untossable. But the dolly would prove it's worth again by making a makeshift bobsled for us. For fear of traffic we stayed on the side street, but we could have easily made it to Steelton on that monster dolly. Knowing now what we knew then, and then knowing what we now know we know we know a lot more this time, you know. We are working on designs for a newer stronger faster better more gooder chunk of ice to slide down streets next year. If you have any ideas please leave them as comments.

Ragaholic

I think I have become a ragaholic. No I am not addicted to Rageahol like some of you think. It's not that I am never happy, but I would say I have about 10% of my day angry. 10% you say, I bet your thinking that's not a lot. (also your thinking I used the "%" because I can't spell persent. and you are right) Well it is when you think that like 30% is sleeping, another 20% is spent in classes or doing work. 7% is eating, no comments on that one or some one is getting throttled. (what a quality threat). 6% is spent on personal upkeep. Yeah that's right I do bath. You can only imagine how bad I would look if I cut that time down. (So where are we, like a lot of %'s, ok, hold on, let me Math a little. Yeah math is a verb. ok 70 some of these jobbers "%".) Another 10% is spent socializing and general interactions with others. 15% of my day goes to the Air Force. (I am currently not permitted to comment on the ridiculousness of that number) and the last 5% of my day is spent, well you know. that special time at night when I close my door. I like to read you sick bastards. GOSH. Now for all you math wizards out there I know you got a number more than 100% probably something along the lines of 103%. And I am sure someone is going to say to them selves, "Self, it's not really possible to have 103% of a day. Also self, that freckle on our ass is really starting to worry us. We should remember to get that looked at." And if that person (upon return from their visit to a lisenced physician who reassured them that it was just a freckle and not some cancerous sore poised to unleash wave after wave of booty cancer into them) would comment on my math to me I would explain to them that ridiculous numbers are what I am hoping to get a few laughs from. Where did this all start? oh yeah it's up there at the top of the page. Shit I got sidetracked, man I get really pissed when I get sidetracked. Dammit now I am going to have to add to the angry number. and that means more math and more of these % things floating around. Dammit now I'm too pissed to finish this. I'm out

HAPPY TURKEY SLAUGHTER DAY. Remember millions of birds were murdered for your dinner. Enjoy, I know I will.

I couldn't find a depressing enough quote

I have noticed something. yeah that's a sentence. Subject (that's the I) and the predicate (the rest of those words). I have noticed people clearly mis-use the away message. I think it's purpose is to let other people know where you are and when you will be back, if at all. Too many people are now putting up songs (ok I do this sometimes, but only on occasions so ridiculous you wouldn't believe me if I told you where I was.) or write the most saddest and depressing things. (almost as depressing as my grasp of the english language in that last statement.) Seriously if you are mad at some one or they are making you upset, tell them. this underhanded little message crap ain't really doing it. I think those depressing messages kinda force the other people to ask you what's wrong. That is why for the most part I just respond ridiculously to them. Like if it says something along the lines of "Too sad to sleep" I like to write back, "There's always nightquil". Or I got this one the other day "You don't know what you do to me" ; a great response to that one is "Yes we do, it's fun for everyone, well maybe not YOU". This may make me an unfeeling asshole, but, well it does make me an unfeeling asshole. And that's cool because I shouldn't have to feel for you over the internet just cause you aren't happy. On the opposite side of the away message spectrum (the spectrum actually vibrates somewhere between Ultra Violet and MegaUber Violet. ) you have the overly excited persons with messages littered with smiley faces. I am kinda miffed at the whole smiley thing to begin with. If the person you are talking to can't figure out if you are happy or sad with out some little animated dot going buck wild then they are the unfeeling asshole. Wait I am the unfeeling asshole. Ok they can be the socially numb colon. that's some quality name makery right there. I would like to set a limit to Smileys per message. I think AIM shouldn't let people put more then 1 smiley per every 3 lines of text. Also while we are at it, lets please limit our use of exclamation points. To me, 1 of those little buggers means I am yelling it. When you go upwards of 3 then you have crossed the line from loud to threshold of pain. If you want to stress something, use the underline, but don't make your sentence look as if it is emerging from a forest of excalamation points.
Holy shit it is scary in that forest!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anyways please stop the thinly veiled attacks on one another as well. If you're pissed, then get mad, don't just leave a poorly thought out away message up and then just hide behind it to see what the other person writes. Those are messages I like to respond to as well. Ridiculously as possible. (<--- Not a sentence)

ICE CRACK

Here in good ole Westmoreland Hall Room 102 instant ice tea is a staple in our diet. Not an actual metal staple, I can't imagine that would have a very high nutritional value. But the normal ice tea isn't enough for us, hell no. We needed something stronger, something that if left in the bottom of a cup would eat it's way through and lay bubbling on the carpet. And becacuse of this and the fact that I am too slow to read the container correctly, I almost doubled the intended amount of mix to one gallon of tea. Thus Ice crack was born. well not really born, that implies that I was the father of it and I am in no position to support any dependants, more like thus ice crack was mixed (yeah that should keep me safe during the custody battles and child support suits of the next 10 years) . But just so you at home can form a complete picture in your minds, this stuff is more potent then coffee, it will keep you up all night, and it's addictive as hell. It's almost medically imposible to drink more than half a cup in an hour, and the last couple of swigs at the bottom of the jug are almost chewable. This would be the drink of the gods, but it makes me jittery. If you ever want to try some just stop by 102 and demand your cup of crack but remember you were warned.

Theory of Change Reproduction

Some one the other day asked why I had an assload (actually equivelent to 1/4 of a shitfukc, also equal to 2 hooplas, or 8 slews) of pennies through out the crevices, nooks, and crannies of the nonnamed mobile. You may think that this was because I have no organizational skills and just allow the change to fall as it may throughout the unnamed autocar, but you are wrong, dead wrong, and if you're not careful, maybe just dead. I have a theory that multitudes of pennies, unwatched for an extended period of time will eventually evolve into several nickles, and when these nickles are mixed with other nickles from different areas, then eventually dimes will be formed. This also applies to quarters, but that is where my research ends because at that point I harvest the highest evolved form and place it in receptacles that allow me to park. some people say this theory is complete crap and you can asume that nickles and dimes just get mixed in with the pennies. I say to these people, OK, because I don't really know that much about sciences and therorisimissm (<-- This is a product of my theory of word break down, where it's not the commonly believed fact that I can't spell, but more of a failure of my brain to connect correctly to the fingers that do the typing.)

Let me mispel it out for you

I hate stupid drunk people. To me the drunker you are the stupider you are. (yes I know it's more stupid, but just refer your gramatically correct asses up to the title) Learn your limits people. If you go out and get sick everytime you drink, either A) you have an allergic reaction to alcohol, B) you don't know your limits, or C) you're 11 years old. and if it's that last choice then some one needs to be watching the door at those parties. If it's A, then sorry your screwed, try something else to get you messed up, (No I am not encouraging the use of illegal drugs, I was simply refering to safer non illegal methods like getting high on life.) If it's B, and it normally is, then you need to STOP DRINKING SO MUCH, it's really not that hard, instead of drinking as much as you can, say lets try drinking a few less than that. Instead of drinking till you vomit or the room starts spinning how about... hmmmm.... NOT DOING THAT. There is no such thing as puke and rally, it should be called puke, feel slightly better for a little while, then puke some more later. Also if you are drunk do not get on the internet. If you can't form basic sentences while talking you are going to have some serious issues typing them. And just use me for an example, I am sober as hell and I still can't not untype good. So in closing remember Learn from your own mistakes, if you're hugging the toilet in the morning then you fucked up last night.

Adventure

The cold and crisp silence of the late fall night was only broken by the tolling of a single bell. One o'clock. The moon that hung low in the sky, it's curving peak just visible over the forested mountains surrounding Greensburg PA, shone down as 6 men emerged from a brightly lit hall. As they strode purposefully across the commons their talk turned to adventure, and before they could reach the warm inviting beds of their homes, each one was filled with something akin to wanderlust. Qucikly they made ready for their journey. Plans were laid and courses were plotted. The half dozen set out from the safety of Greensburg and ventured forward into the the untamed lands of the west. Yes I speak of the most flat and boring Ohio. The incidious levelness that plauges the midwest stems right from the one place we were forced to go, Ohio. We gathered provisions of Coffee and Gasoline at the local sheets and at made our first strides toward our goal at 1:30 in the morning. An hour of travel saw us to the border of our hated enemy, and if it was not for the amazing wonders we seeked there, surely we would have turned back. But with great reluctance we crossed that faithful plain and as the mountians of our homeland faded in the mirrors we knew there was no turning back. Another hour later we were poised at the edge of Akron Ohio. Yes, our destination lie within the infamous Akron Ohio. We quickly exited and made for our goal with the utmost of haste. And there it was like a beacon to hope and truth, the fruit of our toils, the ultimate goal, a small spot of awesomeness and excitment in the blank slate of oppression that is Ohio, The White Castle shone far into the night. Our joy was beyond bounds as we desimated rank after rank of tiny meat patties trapped between miniscule buns. Long into the morning did our revels go. A rukus the likes of which ohio rarely sees. But soon, the weariness of our flesh soon came to light and we realized we all longed for home. With a myriad of spent burger casings clustered now empty in the brimming trashcans, we drove solemnly into the untamed flatness of Ohio. The next hour was the most trying of our journey. The need for sleep was paramount in everyone's mind but we could recieve no rest until we cleared Ohio and returned to our fatherland. As the miles ticked down, we saw shining in the distance a sign proudly proclaiming "Welcome to Pennslyvannia". A new vigor was renewed within the party as we strove hard towards home. Another hour would pass and we finally reached the safe confines of Greensburg once again. We stood stiffly in the parking lot; stretching our tired limbs. And as the sun burst through the pre dawn mists, sending its warm glowing rays down apon us, we all felt sick because the onions on white castle burgers are really greasy.

Mandatory STD

First off, I heard that there is a movement to call STD's, STI's now, because the word infection is better then desease. It seems to me that most people who have an STD weren't considering their genitals feelings when the got it, so why do I have to worry about offending them by saying they have a disease. But my thought process as always marched forward across the borders of sanity and into the realm of ridiculousness. Having an STD or STI is a huge deterant to having unprotected sex. I think we can all agree, the idea of reliving a terrible feeling of fire every time you urinate is enough to make you want to wrap that shit up. But what about the kids who are just starting their sexual careers, the rookies if you will, I have developed a program where apon reaching puberty they are infected with a curable, but terrible STD just to make sure they are careful when they are ready to do the horizontal slide. We then let them enjoy it for a month and then fix them up. I am not talking anything serious or deadly, and no viruses, just a quick dose of the clap or the Sif to make sure they get the point.

All right all right

Yeah that's right I am back, and slightly pissed, and before you ask, no the car still has no name. She seems to like being unidetifiable, but oh well on to more bigger and meaner things. First off I just want to say what happened to that transition time between seasons. A week ago I was wearing shorts and enjoying the sun and warm weather. While today I question being able to go out due to glacial movement. I need more than 2 days to prepare for the switch between temperate zone to frozen tundra. This year I say fuck winter I am going to hybernate. or is it hibernate. Whatever the spelling I am talking about the time where I just take like 2 bottles of NyQuil and pass out for 2 months, just like the bears and other fuzzy woodland creatures do. My roomates could just lock my door and when I emerge in the early spring we can have a festival to see if I see my shaddow. Speaking of groundhogs I hit one this weekend. Yeah he got the business end of the un-named-mobile. How stupid does an animal have to be to wait along the side of a road until there is only one car coming and then dash out infront of the tires. I can't imagine what he's trying to do, maybe his thoughts on hitch hiking are all wrong or he just wants to me to slow down, but the result is always the same. big splatter and minus 1 fuzzy woodland critter from the environmnet. and who decided there needs to be an N in Environment. it would be so much nicer if it was Enviroment. I would start a program to fix that but I think people would just assume my already agregious spelling mistakes had trickled down deeper into my vocabulary. SO to recap, I hate winter, groundhogs, and the useless N in ENVIROnMENT

My Car's Name

Alright we need to discuss a very serious problem, I have had my current motor car for almost 4 months now and yet it remains nameless. This is unexceptable. Very simply it must change. Most of you will remember Shamus, the bbc (Barbie Beach Crusier), The red geo tracker that was my car throughout highschool. (god rest his carborator, he was quite the automobile) While odd and sometimes hard to spell his name went along with his own quarkiness and random ridicullitivity. And if you have known me for a really long time then you remember Shawn, the Ram Raider my father killed the same week I got my lisence. Shawn was an amazing car that took everything you could throw at it. But that is not the point, the point is my current car, the black 1996 plymouth breeze still has no name. It is female. And it is a bit odd, but still runs well and can get going pretty well. I was hoping that a few people could possibly suggest a few names for her. Matillda and Raven were the top two choices so far but neither of them want to stick very well. I am looking for anything from a nickname to serious title. She can't remain nameless for very much longer. Ok I can't back that up, but I am getting tired of calling it the breeze, so please send your names either as comments, or via the Aim. If you didn't know, my s/n is jphhh811
Furthermore, furthermore is a silly word.

Fixed it

Ok if you happened to read the previous post and see the comment (I can barely type the word, Because I am SO angry, that and I am functionally illiterate) that some fucktard left, then you probably also saw my angry one in return. Well I have taken action. I have tracked that person down and stomped all their toes flat, tripped their grandmothers, squashed their gerbils, moved their furniture and yelled really loudly at their children. Boy I wish that was the truth unfortunately all that I really did was put on one of those word verification McJiggers (An irish term dating back to Hagus McJigger and the Doohickey up rising of 1634) on my comments section. ALSO and this is important hence my use of big letters, I set it so that ANYONE can comment, so please, if you like what you see shoot me out a comment, and if not, keep your goddamn mouth shut cause no one asked you smart ass. Just kidding I don't mind a little constructive Critisizms (oh yeah that's how it's spelled) and the destructive kind is cool too.

Best night ever

Tonight I am preparing for quite possibly the best possible night for a college student, no it's not some wild party, and no, I am not going to inact my wildest fantasy (it's really hard to get that much jellybeans imported, and then keeping the penguins happy is just a logistical nightmare), and no, Ron Jeremy is not coming back to speak to us again. Tonight I am going to get SLEEP, real sleep, lots of glorious sleep, and at the appropriate time too, not the kind you get from 11:30 AM to 4:15PM that between the classes, I just need to shut my eyes real quick nap, and not that crap from 4AM when you drag yourself off to bed and don't get up until dinner time. This is going to be normal people sleeping hours, from 10 this evening till 5Am, ok so the get up time is kinda early, but that is 7 hours of unadulterated sleep. (By the way what is adulterated sleep like?) Many people will wonder how I plan to sleep like this, and I have a simple solution, And before most people start tossing words like Nightquil and enough liquor to drown a cow, I will have you know that those are not viable options tonight (although strongly considered). But Tylenol PM is, and it's also vanilla flavored, I don't really know why it's Vanilla flavored, but it was priced the same as the regular (non delicious) variety, so I figured why not indulge myself a little. And after I did that and they called security and there was a LOT of paperwork to be filled out, some charges like public nudity, indecnet exposure, and 3 lude acts, But what can you do other then pay the fines and move on. So now I am hoping that when I wake up in the morning instead of my mouth tasting terrible, it will taste... ok well probably still terrible, but with a hint of vanilla. So in closing, I hate my speach class, Vanilla is an awesome taste, and seaweed is the future so invest now.

Jive ass turkeys

While driving through downtown Pittsburgh there is a few things one expects to see, yes these include bums, pitt students almost getting hit by busses, people with bundles of clothes in their arms doing the walk of shame, But there are a few things I don't expect to see in south Oakland and one of those things is wild turkeys. Yeah just let that one settle in, and notice I said turkeyS because 1 wasn't enough, 3, wild ass turkey (they were very wild) just strutting down a back alley way looking for trouble. There was a huge male turkey (I believe the correct term is "pimp gobbla") and 2 of his female counter parts ("the breast meat" if you will, OH you won't? that is it we are fighting.) So what did I do when I encountered this half flock of turkeys, I did what any self respecting person would do and sped up, but instead of scattering they just stayed there, and because I think a turkey might actually do some damage to my grill I had to stop and let these feathery bastards strut along the street. I tried honking but the only response was for the male to stop and look at me, then he went right back to his leasurely pace crossing the alley. I think this is a sign from the gods, some crazy ass shit is going to go down, and i have a bad feelings it's going to involve 3 very badass turkeys.

Old Man eh?

Yeah well your mom is an old man.
Anyways well I do get old I am going to be sooooo super badass old that everyone will want me to be their grandparent. First off I am going to have HUGE gray Sideburns that connect with the ultra bushy gray mustache, like the old timey civil war general look. and i am going to smoke a pipe, in an over stuffed leather chair and say harrumph a lot. And I am going to tell my grand kids ri-goddamn-diculous war stories from wars I wasn't in. Like "Back when I was in Vietnam I had 200 confirmed kills on my first day there, and they only armed me with a spoon and four profilactives." (I appologize to the families of thoes 200 men, I admit condoms were never meant to do that.) Furthermore I am going to fall asleep anytime I damn well please, like in the middle of converstations, just drop off and start snoring really loudly. I want to have a den with animal heads all over the walls, but not like big game, just like squirells and chipmunks I shot around the neighborhood, possible some mice or song birds as well. and when I die, I want to be cremated and have my ashes scattered some where rather close to my home, because from all that lying and terrible stories I might have pissed some people off and if I want my ashes in some ridiculous place they will probably just get mixed with kitty litter and used thusly.

Say what?

How loud does music have to be? seriosly I think we need to appoint a committee to take this under consideration. This topic has come up several times here on my first weekend back. For me it's been the Dipshit across the hall who apparntly is nearly deaf, because he has the music up so loud I can hear the words in the back room of the appartment, I counted and there are 6 walls between us. 6 walls is a lot of walls friends, you would think that 6 walls would have a decent amount of sound stopping power, and I would agree, so I have to say that the music on his side of the 6th wall is set at the REgoddamnDICULOUS level. When I asked his (Oh so Politely as I always do when I am angry) HEY, why the fuck is your music so loud? He responded, "I have Bose speakers" well congradulations feshie, you have a shitfuck of money tied up in speakers, but I can't imagine the sound quality can truely be appreciated when there is Blood coming from your ears. The next music volume people I have an issue with is the car stereo, it is TOO loud when you can't talk to the person in the passanger seat. When you have to scream as loud as you can to be heard of "Drop it like it's hot" then obviously you have been turning that volume knob the wrong way. ALSO, I don't want to want to be able to sing along with your music in your car while I am in mine. Granted I may just like what your playing, but if I really did, I WOULD PLAY IT IN MY CAR. And if one more car whose speakers are more expensive then the blue book value of that car rolls past me in the parking lot, then I am peeing in someones gas tank. The end

RALLY BEARD

I am embarking apon a journey that is fraut with peril and spooky doom. I am going to forsake my military training and devevate from it's standards. I am going to grow a beard. When I handed in my notice to quit work last monday (leaving me with only 5 more weeks of welding terror) I decided I needed a good luck charm to see me through till the end. I thought about not changing my pants, but burning a hole in them with the hot saw kinda ended that little endevor. So I decided to take a page from some sports greats and am growing a rally beard. Basically I am not going to shave until I quit working. now a week and a half into it I can tell that I am going to look like a special ed. Muscrat. I am not meant to have facial hair as demonstrated by my ridiculous attempt at a mustache. (I was growing in really dark at the corners and working it's way to the middle. except I guess it stalled about half way and decided to give up. I looked like I had a pair of furry quotation marks under each Nostril. Sexy I know, and yes somehow the ladies still manage to control themselves) So I have detoured slightly from the rules and shaved the punctuation marks off my face. so now I am trying to get the space between my side burns and my little beard thingy to fill up. I am trying to get a picture of it in all it's glory to keep an update week by week unitl it goes away, so if you want to see it let me know and I will shoot out a picture as soon as I can take one.

9, 10, Buckle my shoes

When I was a little Jon, so small and tiny, my father taught me a little song that most kids learn during their childhood. The great classic 1,2 Buckle my shoes. Well if you know my father then you know is the one I get my sick and twisted side from. So basically I learned it this way.

1,2 Buckle my shoe
3,4 Buckle my shoe
5,6 Buckle my shoe
7,8 Buckle my shoe
9, 10 BUCKLE MY SHOE,

The worst part about it is that he used to make me perform it for all of his friends. I am glad I was entertaining his friends with my ingorance to the closing of the door, Sticks, the act of laying them straight, or doing it again. Boy did I ever look like an ass at Kidergarten when I tried to join in during that time on the carpet squares. So why would my old man do this to me? Spite? doubtful, I see only 2 possibilities, either he thought it would be fun to mess me up pretty good and make me sound a gerneral idiot, or more likely he just got lazy after verse one and said FUCK IT.

Hey Look it's still Summer

Never has a summer lasted SO long. When I was a wee lad (also scottish apparently) the summers went so fast you barely had time to destroy more than 3 slip and slides. Yeah so slip and slide onto hot pavement, not one of our best ideas. Seriously though when I was younger I never wanted to go back to school. I would have rather been beaten with rabid badgers then see the terror bringing month of September looming up on my calander. But this summer. The summer of the welding and flesh burning, the only summer in the history of all that is Jon that I have wanted to end, Refuses to. I want nothing more to be back at school sleeping till noon and yelling at people, occasionally firing nerf darts at them. (Seriously it is nerf or nothing. There is no option, you will nerf, or you will nothing.) I just want to wake up tomorrow afternoon in my messy room with that college guy funk hanging around, and a cup of milk from a week ago left on my desk. I told you I was making cheese. We needed cheese and that was my solution. Craft singles my ass, just let a glass of 2% hang around for a few weeks and you get a whole brick of the stuff. Sure it might be fuzzy, but that is probably good for you. or not at all. And in closing I have a quote I would like to place hear in honor of drinking. Drinking, all the memories that we will never forget, .... ...or remember.

When life hands you Lemons

Do what my mom did, and let them sit in the fridge for a month at the bottom of one of those drawers. The thing was all brown and Leathery on one side, and blue and fuzzy on the other side. The only way I knew it was a lemon was by the taste. I don't understand how prodects have THE CLEANING POWER OF LEMONS or CITRUS, if those things can get just as nasty as the crap you are cleaning up. (Crap is a really funny word, and being semi-grown up I don't say it enough). I understand how things like Bleach and Amonia can clean, they don't get moldy or dirty. Here's the test. if you can leave it outside for a week and no harm has really come to it then you can clean with it. Hell do that with bleach, and not only will the bleach still be fine, but it will have killed most of the vegitaion around it. So to sum that one up, Fruits and their acids, no good, Deadly industrial chemicals, Go ahead Billy. Also today in the grocery store, I bought STRING CHEESE. Uhm if you haven't had that in a while, you are missing out. ANY food you can peal (that doesn't grow that way in nature) is amazing. It takes me like 4 hours to eat one, and by then, the low grade cheese is kinda warm, but it's so pumped with chemicals, and homoginized, pasturized, and maybe saved by Jesus, that it can't spoil.

Hey Hey Hey

Well finally I got a chance to get back to writing on this McJigger. Just a few things about my job before I go back to pretending it's all a bad dream. First off I work with the best of the best, of the worlds worst. Some how both of my supervisors (Ed in the welding shop, and in the paint shop Turtle (that's right his name is turtle (how many side notes can a person add into a single set of these guys() (aparently 4) ) ) ) smoke a lot of pot, IN THIER SHOPS. One can paint when high, meh not all that amazing, but the welding? DAMN that is talent, and when Ed isn't high, he's drunk. And when he's drunk, he becomes his alter Ego, the DRELDER, the DRunk wELDER and his amazing ability to not burn his flesh off. If I am as drunk as he is I can barely throw a ping pong ball into a plastic cup, let alone join 2 pieces of steel with an insanely hot torch. Also earlier this summer (well actually spring cause it was still May(OH NO I CAN'T STOP {ok I fixed it})) when the star wars movie came out {that right there is me trying to act like I barely noticed it so you don't think I am a big nerd} I complained that I couldn't go the midnight show with my nerd friends, because I had to work the next day, so to make me feel better all 5 of us in the weld shop had "SPARK WARS" where we took the metal grinders, and shot sparks across the shop at one another. I got a lot of burns that day and I gave a few out myself. Ok enough about my fantastic job and the amazing people I work with. I finally got a set up so I can listen to my CD's in my car. But apparently fate heard about this and decided to shit allover my listening enjoyment by crashing my computer and destroying my hoardes of illegally downloaded music. So now I have 3 or 4 unscratched CD's that I can listen too, and I know that isn't going to last me for very long so if you want to donate some music to a worthy cause please send all possible music you can spare. If you have anything by Reel Big Fish, Catch 22, Less Than Jake, Weezer, Green Day, Flogging Molly, Dropkick Murphy's, Blur, or Rage against the Machine, you can be in the gold circle memebership club. Classic rock, ska bands, punk, and alternative will get you in the Silver oval membership club. Anything else will get you in the Bronze octagonal box of terror (with spikes), i mean bronze triangle membership club. Seroiusly though I need music so if you have anything you can let me burn please let me know.

Pink

Some one recently told me that Pink was the new red. Hmmm just take a second and let that one soak in. yeah, a new red. Where did old red go. If I have a shirt that was considered red what is it now. Rainbows across the world have shifted to Poy G. Biv. Our flag is now the proud owner of pink white and blue. Cop cars are much less intimidating with blue and pink lights flashing. Stop lights don't tell you to stop the same anymore and finally car accidnets are much happier because people are now losing streams of pink juices instead of nasty old red blood. YOU CAN'T MAKE ONE COLOR BE ANOTHER ONE. The new red is RED, just like the new pink is PINK. Very simply until you change the 8 color spectrum and can seperate light into a pattern where pink is in the spot of red, then pink is still pink, and red is still RED.

Behold the power of Febreeze

Today I come to you to speak of yet another wonder chemical brought to the American people. No it's not the most holy Nyquil, and no it's not Gold Bond, (I think that stuff could cure cancer) it's every guys best friend Febreeze. This magic chemical is the closest thing to Anti-Stink spray yet known to mankind. I don't know how it works really, but I assume it's a little something like this. Odor, in it's rawest form, FUNK, is hanging out everywhere in your room. Not too big of a deal for day to day life, but when Funk has it's pals over, B.O. and "that ass smell" then you might get mad and do something about it. That something is get yourself a bottle of Febreeze and go to town. You can spray that stuff anywhere; couch, carpet, curtains, pets, hobos, whatever you have laying around your room. And somehow through the magic of techology the Febreeze evicts the funk and lets the room smell like.... well it smells like febreeze, but still it's not funk. This stuff is great for people like me who don't like to clean as much as to find out someone's coming over and lay down a healthy coating of Febreeze throughout the area. And before I finish up and toss the bottle back down, I give myself a few passes just to be sure. There is a new aresol febreeze out on the market and I am a huge fan. It gives me that same funk fighting power with out all that trigger squeezing I had to do with the original variety. There is only one downside to this magnificent milestone in better living, You never have enough. When you really need it, parents are coming, having a girl over for dinner (I know that some of you are female, but I just like to think you will have each other over for dinner... and then there is a glass of wine spilled on a shirt.... and then.... well all the little dots can lead you to....) Or those pesky child service people start poking around. Anyways, childabuser, potential lesbian, or just unclean person (who can pick with those options, I can, unfortunately the lesbians I know don't really like me too much.) you should always have a spare bottle of Febreeze.

Man in a can

Ok most guys use some sort of body spray. Whatever your brand may be, Axe, Tag, Bod, Old Spice, Pam (I hate when I stick to the pan and get all burned and crispy), the comercials all seem to show that simply spraying a few puffs of fragrance on will make you the manliest man to ever...be a man?. ANYWAYS. I looked at the ingredients on my can of Axe. and they are as follows SD Alcohol, Butane, Hydrofluorcarbon, fragrence, and Isopropyl Myristate. I know for a fact that the first two are flammable. one you put in lighters, the other you put into my stomach. Then next two I assume are the smelly ones and such. and that last little guy.... well he's... probably the chemical name of Manlyness. So applying this to yourself can't possible make you all that manly. Infact I think it should make you more combustable. So when wearing this product stay near women, not open flames. Do not store yourself in direct sunlight or in an area that will reach over 120* (where the crap is that little degrees circle on a keyboard. seriously how many times a day do I use this little thing {}. couldn't of those be the degress cirlce. who needs 2 shift keys anyways. ) ANYWAYS those sprays make you smell good (or are good for non-stick baking), but they don't make you any more of a man. only illegal testosterone injections can.

Heavens Draft

With all the recent deaths of prominent figures I think we need to ask ourselves why. Is it possible that god is putting together an all-star show. Ray Charles will obviously be playing and singing along with ODB (old dirty bastard, for all yal who don't represent), Mitch Headberg Rodney Dangerfield and Johnny Carson will be telling the jokes. And the talent always needs a good agent, that's why god gave the big call down to Johnny Cochran. And we all know how stars get when the food is sub par, so the lord picked up Frank Perdue and Julia Childs in the 3rd round. And every good show needs a headliner, that is why for a limited time engagement Pope John Paul II will be opening. OK OK OK joking aside, these people will be missed (except Johnny Cochran) and their deaths are a loss to us all. Oh yeah and the pope will be closing cause no one can follow that act.

Sick (in the illness way, not the perverted way, ok I am still sick that way too, but more towards the illness)

Ask anyone what the worst feeling is and I am sure they would tell you being eaten alive by 200,000 raging fire ants. And I am sure we can all agree that would feel pretty bad. I am sick today and I feel bad, not nearly that bad as all the ants, but still pretty bad. I feel like someone filled my sinus cavity with all the sheets of a maximum security prision on an August night. Old people who worked as the Asbestos man in a coal mine and smoked a pack a day since they were 5 can breathe easier then me. And what are my weapons I am using to fight this phlemy menace? Advil Cold and Sinus, that is some good stuff, Cough drops, and cough syrup. Those of you who know me may be asking where is your atomic bomb of medication. Nyquil. Well I am currently out that magic green elixior of life. I know just a half a bottle would obliterate this cold in a single night, but with no NyQuil in sight it looks like I will just have to carry on fighting for my body and it's weakening immune system. If you are moved by my terrible plight please send NyQuil as soon as possible. The larger the quantity the better, is there NyQuil concentrate? If so I would be making NyQuil slurpees. Anyways, Any donation is welcome and you can just pledge it on my comments section. Thank you and with your help I am sure we can stop me from coughing up things of questionable origin.

April Fool's Day Eve

This is a day made for all those organised people who like to plan things out to hook up with an asshole with a devious mind. So I am looking for my organizer any minute. Tomorrow as you may or may not know is April Fools Day (well reading the title should have clued you in Genius). Pranksters all over the country will be using classics like "your shoe's untied", and "Hey look your grandmas on fire". But are these tried and true pranks enough for you. Are you the kind of practical joker that savors the smell of fresh shaving cream, or relishes hearing the snap of a "accidentally weakened" chair. If you are and are in need of a few good ideas then let me help you. If you feel up to it, you can sort through the mountains of porn on the Internet and find a few good ones. (But that would require using Google. and I just don't trust those shady bastards.) Computerpranks.com will give you many quick and easy pranks to put on a friends computer. such as the classic pointer chasing animated Penis. Watch him go. Here are a few Jon Approved jokes you can try out. Line a friends bed with Tin Foil, under the mattress pad is best. It's not that harmful, but for a tired roomate it will cause a bed the crinkles everytime he moves. Remove all utensils from the house or dorm room. Watch those sorry fools try to eat a bowl of Chocolate lucky charms with chopsticks. Unscrew every light bulb. Darkness=toe stubbery (divided by 45, take the natural LOG, Square, Multiple by the people in Liechtenstien and subtract seven, and I am sure that you will have some sort of number). Fill a pillow case with Unsented shaving cream and lay it on a bed. (helps if you cover it with another pillow. Seran wrap a car, desk, or friends toilet. and if nothing else freeze a can of shaving cream, cut away the metal and leave the frozen cream where ever. The blob of cream will expand uncontrolably as it warms to the size of a poor milage SUV. Today on Campus I saw a pre April Fools day prank where they covered a car with Post-its. That was some quality workmanship and I would like to meet the mind that thought that one up. Well good luck pranking and remember it's all fun and games until some one's grandma catches fire. then it's just a game. PUT OUT GRANNY, the home addition.

Children who eat paint chips may already be idiots

I was wondering about little kids eating lead paint chips. I imagine those little buggers would have to eat them when they were 3-5 right, I mean seriously would any decent parent just wander away from thier child when they were 1 or 2 for long enough for them to consume a decent amount of this paint. Who even puts a 1 or 2 year old in a room with chipping paint. Children that young should be in baby jail (a crib) or start their brainwashing (PBS shows). SO that means the kid should be about 3 or so when they first get their grubby little mits around some paint chips. If you are 3 and you are eating peices of paint off the wall then you may not be the brightest buld to begin with. I think the whole lead paint chip is a coincidence. I can't imagine they taste good either. Little Johny in the corner ravaging the window frame in hopes for more delicous "Burnt Siena" isn't exactly what I would label as an example of humanities great hopes for our future. I think these kids are already damaged goods and people should quit blaming the poor paint companies.

Good News!
that's right kids I am back and slightly more angry then ever. When I say kids I am speaking to the 30 or so Cambodians I have adopted. Yeah that's right I own them. And they do my bidding. But anyways,I am going to ask you all a question. When did we stop using the word ask and adopt it's bastardized cousin,axe. No not the chopping tool using in lumber jackery or bad horror movies, the verb meaning to inquire. (apparently derived from the Greek axues; or way to sound retarded) SO everyone let me axe you another question. LET ME, please. Don't make me beg, OK FINE, god friggin idiot, PLEASE LET ME AXE YOU A QUESTION, pretty pretty please with a cherry on top, ... ....Yes with sprinkles, what kinda monster do you take me for. Why do people call sprinkles jimmies. I have a Jimmy for a roommate, and while I cannot comment on his taste, I know for a fact he is not a minute cylinder of compressed high fructose corn syrup. If we want to call them Jimmies, we need to make them look like a person. And while we are talking about food shaped like things I have a problem with one of America's favorite snacks. GOLDFISHES. I saw goldfishes that were smiling the other day. What do they have to be so happy about. If someone put my ass in a foil and paper bag with 1,000 of my closest friends and left us there for a month, I wouldn't be happy at all. Even after they are free they have nothing to smile about, they are just separated into smaller groups and put into plastic bags and then are slowly devoured/smashified by the Toddler sitting next to you in church. Yeah keep smiling as you become a smearing of orange dust across the pew. Optimistic cracker bastards.