What I do for a living?

Quick question readers. Do I look like a drug dealer?

Seriously.

Ok, story goes like this, I’m getting picked up outside my pad. I’m waiting for my boy to get me, wearing track pants, sneakers, toque, leather jacket and my UBC sweater. I’m just waiting minding my own business when two dudes approach me.

First guy is a scraggly looking cat and his buddy is a heavy set guy, they look like just some typical granola eating, nature hiking white folks. Anyway, they walk by me once then all of a sudden about halfway down the block they turn and approach me again. First guy asks me:

“Hey, you know where I can get some weed?”

“Not around here man, but good luck to you.”

I admit it, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me, and I could smell the bacon on these guys a mile away, but the plot thickens. I’m waiting around again and this real skinny looking guy walking with a limp comes up. This dude is obviously a, and for those of you haven’t guessed from the sparse description already given, then let me elaborate, a crackhead. A straight-up, I love rock, and I got doodoo on my clothes, crackhead.

“ey man, you got some shit I can score?”

“No”

What the hell! Do I fit the description of a drug dealer? Tell me, cuz I got to know. I don’t even know what drug dealers are supposed to look like. Normally, I wouldn’t pay it no mind, but two seemingly separate people, asking me for drugs in a 15 minute span? With that volume, I might have gotten into the wrong business.

Frigg’in NARCs.

Who needs Disneyland?

Remember field trips?

You know back in high school or elementary school, you and the class would get on the big yellow bus with the teacher a couple of chaperones. Get your parents to sign a permission letter. Maybe you would visit a museum, or go roller-skating, ice-skating, Chuck E. Cheese’s, take a nature hike, hit the beach or lake or if the carnival was in town, or the state fair, or maybe even go-karting.

It didn’t really matter where you were going, everyone loved field trips just because it meant you didn’t have to go to school and only those suckers that didn’t get their permission slip signed had to stay behind and clean the chalk boards or something.

Well, after hearing this story a couple of days ago, you can add another destination to the roster of field trip possibilities. What better place to take a high school field trip then a...wait for it... maximum-security state penitentiary.

That’s right, you are not misreading this, friend of a friend was talking about her field trip to a maximum-security prison. Don’t get it twisted, this wasn’t a Scared Straight type program or a cautionary tale to D.A.R.E. to keep the kids off drugs. It was a field trip designed to show the kids the prison, give them a tour, explain the history of it, basically show ‘em around the joint.

When you think about it, this is a great idea. What better place to take a group of high school students than a maximum state prison? Who better to parade in front of rapists, murderers and pedophiles than a bunch of high school girls?

Get this, besides touring the grounds, they got to visit the cells, and even had the opportunity to eat with the prison population in the cafeteria. Apparently, according to my source, the cuisine left a little to be desired. How’s this for a bonus?

“We even got to see a fight!”

Man, I don’t think I would have gotten mom to sign the slip for this one.

Visit the joint or clean the chalkboards? Label me a sucker, those boards are important and someone's gotta clean 'em, where do I sign up?

I guess the roller rink was closed that day.

My Favorite Blogs

I figured out how to link sites on here, so check out some of my favorite blogs (besides my own).

Question Answered

Allen Iverson wants out of Philly. I’m surprised it took this long for this to happen. What appalls me about the whole situation is the disrespect the Sixers organization is showing him. They shopped him in the offseason despite the fact that they told him to his face that he was staying. And AI still said he wanted to be in Philly. To make matters worse, in the war of public opinion, the mainstream media is probably going to side with the hapless owners trying to accommodate the disgruntled, overpaid, hip-hopping, and not to mention black athlete.

Do you remember why AI is public enemy #1?

As this situation gets uglier, let’s remember the cornrows and the tattoos. How about the “gangster” element of the people AI surrounds himself with who are bringing him down as we speak. Also remember, this is a player who has been playing at a high level for over 10 years in the L. Someone with scoring titles, all star appearances and until recently, always got his teams in the playoffs.

Why don’t we remember about what a selfish player AI is and how he doesn’t make the players around him better. Also remember that unlike MJ, Magic, Dr J, Larry, Zeke, Hakeem, Wilt, Oscar, and pretty much every champion that has preceded him, Answer has never played alongside another Hall of Famer.

As long as we remember AI the malcontent, lets remember AI the coach killer. Poor Mo Cheeks! He’s just trying his best. What could be smarter than benching a (despite the knees) guy who drops 20 and 10? “Yeah Allen, I know he’s our second best player, but you know, 20 mins a game is good enough.” AI of course is expected to accept this.

We all of course know that AI was such a headache that it drove Larry Brown away. I mean, it’s not like Larry Brown takes a job, wears out his welcome and openly looks for another job while still employed at said job? As long as we’re remembering this tumultuous relationship, do you remember when the Sixers made it to the finals, and they tried to interview AI on-court and he refused to give the interview? What possible excuse could he have for being so uncooperative!?!?

Before he did anything, he wanted to congratulate “Coach Brown.”

In fact, we all remember that Coach Brown and AI were so much at odds that Coach Brown made AI a co-captain on the Olympic team. In fact, the Brown/Iverson relationship was so strained that it showed last year when Larry was in NY. Don’t you remember? Remember how Allen said that the Knicks should “listen to Coach Brown.” Sounds like a coach killer to me.

Which brings us back to the Olympics. We all remember how the Americans couldn’t shoot or share the ball and co-captain Iverson is a living symbol of that selfish American play. But didn’t he lead the tournament in assists? Of course AI was selfish. The truth is in the media. What did Allen have to say about the Olympics? He had the nerve to say how important this experience was to him, and how proud he was to represent his country and win the bronze. Just to prove his point further, he had tears in his eyes on the podium ceremony. Sure sounds like a selfish malcontent to me.

How about we remember how Allen never got the Sixers over the hump. Just as long as you remember that this team has one of the highest payrolls in the L. What does that buy nowadays? Igoudala, Will Green and Kyle Korver, not to mention an over the hill C-Webb.

Most damning, don’t we all remember the press conference with the “practice” meltdown? He doesn’t practice! That lazy son of a bitch! What if he doesn’t play hard every game? Oh wait. What if he doesn’t play hurt? Oh wait. What if his skills go downhill? I guess we already been over this point.

Besides, it’s not like we remember that before the “practice” tirade, Allen had to talk about the brutal murder of his best friend. Putting things into perspective, it’s a tough call to balance the importance of the death of a dear friend against the importance of practice.

“We’re talking about practice.”

So as the trade talks come to a fever, and AI once again becomes public enemy #1, remember AI the player, but most importantly, remember AI the man.

Remember Kevin Johnson.

The Clipse - Hell Hath No Fury ****1/2

I have to admit, when Lord Willin' hit I was one of those people that dismissed the album as just more of that "fake gangsta shit." But it was hard to deny the anthem quality of "Grindin" and even the hardest backpacker couldn’t deny spittin’ along the first couple of verses, "top down. chrome spinning..." of "When the Last Time." So here we are a few years later with hip-hop probably as weak as its ever been and after some major label drama, the Clipse drop Hell Hath No Fury.

Considering how long it took for this album to be released, it could serve as a lesson for other artists to quit saturating the market with rushed projects designed to capitlize on being the flavor of the month. Simply put, this album is banging, and is probably one of the best albums I heard since the Black Album or Be.

Instead of outsourcing the production to the usual roster of hot producers that'll give em their leftovers, production on this work is handled entirely by the Neptunes. As a result, the chemistry shines through as Chad and Pharrel tailor-make every beat to the strengths of Pusha T and Malice.

Hell starts with "We Got it for Cheap," which is a typical Scarface homage. The beat's a simple riff with a pounding bass-line with some dude that sounds like your buddy 'Spanish' doing his best Tony Montana impression as the hook. It sounds like a juicy, grimey freestyle you wish you recorded.

At 12 bangin' tracks, this is one of those albums that you don't hit the fwd button on. Though the subject matter of "I slang dope, I got a lot of money" seems old and tired, the Clipse deliver it with so much flair and bravado that you can't help but cheer for the bad guy. The hooks are clever and creative as evidenced by "while I'm shovelling the snow, man call me Frosty."

The only real downside of this album is the monotony of the subject matter. Put it this way, if you don't like hearing about dealing cocaine, then this album's not for you. But even with the slight lyrical shortcomings, there's no denying that the Neptunes put some work in where the beats not only sound dope, but literally like they from another planet.

I never thought I would say this about the Clipse, but with the chemistry, production, arrogance, and consistency, this is probably the best rap duo since Erik and Parish. With how thin the game is, cop this album...NOW.

Ralph & Sam

Two times in a week?

I'm surprised myself. Learning something everyday.

One of these new phenomenons I'm observing in my integration into office culture is the Christmas party. I never understood why these things existed. Hell, with all the different types of religions and beliefs kicking around, you would think these things would eventually go the way of the dodo. However, whether it be through clever marketing, or the sentimentality that attaches to I think anyone as the year draws to a close, people seem to gravitate towards this time of year as a relaxing of the belt. In other words, we view our fellow drones at the job as people instead of cogs in the machine.

Maybe this is pretty obvious from my previous posts or even if you know me, but I watched alot of cartoons. If you ever watched Looney Tunes, they had this bit called "Ralph and Sam." I think one of them was a wolf and the other was a dog. Anyway, the bit always started with Ralph and Sam punching the clock and saying, "morning Ralph," followed by a "morning Sam." Then as they enter the field of work, the wolf tries to steal sheep while the dog beats the shit out of him everytime. Long and the short of it is the wolf and the dog pound each other (save for coffee and lunch breaks) till the day comes to an end and Ralph and Sam proceed to punch out and always end the day with "g'night Ralph" and "see ya tomorrow Sam."

The point of the story?

See, that's what the xmas party is all about. Its some sort of idealistic pursuit for the wolves and the dogs to get together without being on the proverbial clock. Unfortunately, these gatherings can also end up a place to play politics and bullshit. However, maybe the christmas party and its lofty goals still show we regard each other as people despite living in a world of wolves and dogs.

Another April

Where's the pac? Really it's just a lack of enthusiasm for the blog experience. Sometimes maybe, I dunno it feels like I have nothing creative at this point. It was weird looking at the last post and seeing that it was in July! I guess an update is in order. It's official, I have joined the ranks of the working stiffs of the world. That's really the biggest news at this point. After what was a quite stressful summer of uncertainty, insecurity and a little more of the same, September brought a new job and the beginning of arcticling and I guess the last step to be a lawyer. Am I excited? I thought I would be, as if this lawyer thing is some sort of glamor grab. Truth be told experience is the ultimate enabler of humility. In our post adolescent victory lap into our mid 20's the next step is the realization that we don't got all the answers and there are people in this world who are believe it or not...smarter than we are. So does this mean I'm hating the next step? Actually, I love my job. I been told that I would be a good criminal lawyer. Never really had an urge to take it up in school but for some reason, you end up where you end up. What I like about the job is that it's real. Its amazing how what happens at work can amuse, shock and sicken you. Maybe I like the role because I feel like some sort of underdog. Pissing off authority and all that maybe. The job is great, I enjoy the work, the people treat me fair and that's really all I want. But it does feel like starting over again for some reason. That's where the humility comes in. After finishing school and feeling like the cock of the walk, like you actually achieved something, here you go all over again. New people to meet, new work to be done, new experiences, and most importantly, you start anew earning respect. I think personally that's what seperates one from the other. This realization that respect is earned and given not as some sort of benefit or a gift from the gods. Since respect is never really given, it can't be. What you learn on the job is that it's only exchanged. Real early in this gig the one thing you have to wrap your head around is that no one is gonna respect you unless you respect them first. People in this world arent going to like me, but well, at least one can be civil. I think as people that one of our biggest problems is the ability to accept our enemies as being our equals. So here's the deal wit the rest of life. Besides the professional things its been a strange couple of months. Lost a couple of people. Hard to understand and really appreciate life or death. I don't know, when you think about it, it's hard to contend with the conflict in your mind about it. Other than that, the last couple of months have been what they've been. For some reason the stifled creativity seems to want to come out of me at this point. I feel like i'm in the middle of the pier, a seagull looking out to the horizon wondering where that next fish is coming from. This is at my most vulnerable, this is me, this is real.

on being misunderstood...

My bad over (1) the long delay and (2) the weak ninjas blog. What can you really expect after the Subway rant? It's like going to bat after Babe Ruth.

However, to my millions of fans, yes, I'm still alive. A lot has happened since April. To sum it up in one sentence I basically: finished law school, did the bar exams, moved (hello to the Bulldog!), and am now currently looking for work.

Which is the perfect lead-in to the subject line. Looking for a job in what seems to be an exclusive business can be a real hit to the ego. It reminds me of that old song:

"Sign, sign, everywhere a sign

Blockin' out the scenery, breakin' my mind

Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign"

Considering I know I'm not a dummy, sometimes I wonder why I have all these "signs" keeping me out while letting others in. Needless to say, a lot of soul searching has been going on.

So in my need to rationalize these sort of things, I think maybe I'm just misunderstood. You wonder if it's a generational thing or a cultural, socio-economic-whatever.

"And the sign said anybody caught trespassin' would be shot on sight

So I jumped on the fence and-a yelled at the house, "Hey! What gives you the right?"

I think to myself that perhaps I'm that trespasser being excluded in the last bastion of old-world economic domination. But in the end, I'm not the one being misunderstood but I'm the one misunderstanding. If for whatever reason some of these pricks don't feel me then, so be it. It's truly irrelevant because I can't control what others think, only what I do.

"So I got me a pen and a paper and I made up my own little sign

I said, "Thank you, Lord, for thinkin' 'bout me. I'm alive and doin' fine."

So that there's an open letter to the legal profession, to all my doubters and everyone looking for me to fall. I am misunderstood, but at the same time don't doubt the talent. Redemption's in the results. No matter all the shit you pile on someone, don't ever doubt they can come back.

Free Ron Artest.

Ninjas. enjoy.

Finally I will write a quick post about a topic dear to my heart: ninjas. Anyhting I write cannot do ninjas enough justice. In times of stress like now, nothing relaxes me like thinking about ninjas. Just sit back, look at the pictures and enjoy the magic of ninjas.

"These guys are cool; and by cool, I mean totally sweet."

For more information on ninjas:

www.askaninja.com

www.realultimatepower.net

eat fresh mother%$#@er!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shitheaded
Unbelievably
Bitch-made
Wack
Ass
York Lanes pricks!

This has been building for a while, after learning that I wasn’t the only one who had a self-imposed boycott of this place and as I have recently been sharing horror stories among my peers about it, it finally needs to be said. Today, in all my fury, I address the jackoffs who run a certain sub franchise at York.

I would like to begin my talk about these guys with some constructive criticism. These guys are ©unts. My man Chuck D said it best, “gotta shut ‘em down!”

As a former sandwich artist, it pains me to see the depths to which our craft can sink. Dammit I was good. Put it this way, if whatever God you believe in came to earth just to make a sub, it would only taste slightly better than mine.

First of all, they are skimpy with the vegs. Yo, I’m already dropping 10 bucks on a sub you’re gonna skimp on some lettuce that comes from a bag that costs about a buck and change? I’m onto you, hell, I used to order those same bags of lettuce. Check this, and sometimes they put a lid on top of the cucumbers pretending they don’t have them. What kind of a jackass do they take their customers for? It’s a clear lid jerk, I think I can tell there’s cucumbers underneath.

Don’t even ask for extra toppings, these people look at you like you politely asked if you could shove a broomstick up their ass. Dude, when you're making my sub I don’t expect you to be grinning from ear to ear, but I can sure as hell do without that surly attitude that creates this almost uncontrollable compulsion for me to punch you in the face. God forbid, the heavens will fall and your life will never be the same just because I got an extra slice of tomato on a club!

Ten bucks for a sandwich!!!!!!

So here’s my story, its about midnight during first year when I lived on campus. Only place open. I go there, had little cash so I decided to card it. Instead of punching in $5.69 as the amount, dude puts in $55.69! I told him I refused to sign that nonsense, and he got the nerve to get mad at me!

“Buddy, I can get in trouble for this.”
“So void the transaction, put the money back on the card!”
“I don’t know how”
“Get the manager”
“I am the manager”

WTF?!? I forced him to call the franchise owner, and some shit-faced bastard picks up asking what this is all about. I explain to him I want my money tonight and ask him to tell this walking waste of space how to reverse the charge on the card. Then he says:

“I don’t know how to do it either”

So then I ask, when does someone come in that knows how to reverse the charge? They tell me the next afternoon after two. Luckily (the importance of this will become apparent later), I get a cell and home number off the franchise owner, get the name of the numbskull employee and the name of the guy I’m supposed to meet tomorrow. And initial moron-sandwich artist promises to leave word at the shop for the guy who knows how to run the credit card machine. Maybe they could have comp’d the sub after all this trouble…nope, I still had to pay for the sub!

The next day…

Can y’all guess what happened next? He didn’t leave word with day manager! So I gotta spend another fifteen minutes arguing with this guy since (1) he didn’t believe my story and (2) he refused to call the franchise owner.

So out of desperation, after dropping the “I’m a lawyer card” and the loudest “just call the fucking owner!” I could muster, he calls the owner. Owner of course confirms my story and all was well with the world. Did I even get a “sorry for the inconvenience” from these people…what do ya think?!

These things look ridiculous

While I was snooping around this room I'm studying in I found a bunch of temporary tatoos. I was sort of bored and decided to put about a dozen of them on myself. They're really hard to get off and it's starting to itch. I hope I don't develop a rash...

Happy Birthday to Me!

hi! Thanks to everyone for their greetings today, much appreciated!

Seeing as today is my bday and im nursing a mad hangover, there's nothing like some self-serving narcicism.

Interesting facts about April 9:

The 99th day of the year, i was born on the 9th of 79 (WOAH)

Freedom Day - Iraqi holiday commemorating the fall of Baghdad (2003)

Bataan Day, aka Araw ng Kagitingan, ("Day of Valor") - Filipino holiday commemorating the Bataan Death March (1942)...http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bataan_Death_March

Some notable birthdays: Rudy from the Cosby show (we're the same age!), that hot asian chick from S-Club 7, the homie Hugh Heffner, and of course, the man, the legend, G.

To learn more about April 9: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/04/08/AR2006040801051.html

Thanks again everybody out there, bless you all

imagination time!

Three random things said tonight...try and guess the context:

"we're both adults...and you can't spell 'adultery' without adult"

"you can have a B+ summary in exchange for your virginity"

"it's just a teabag"

For bonus points, two of the statements share something in common.
(1) Which statements share a common characteristic?
(2) What is that common characteristic

California Love Part 3: PCH

In the final instalment of the LA trilogy, today is about the PCH. The PCH, (Pacific Coast Highway) is a stretch of road that runs through Santa Monica, Malibu and other major LA coast towns. I have no idea how two lanes of highway can have the effect this place has on me.

I of course I had to take a drive down to PCH, so I hopped into her car and we headed down. Besides it being one of my favorite places in the world, with all the stress going around right now, there's nothing like the West Coast to put things in perspective.

I can't even begin to describe the PCH, it's this explosion of humanity ranging from the rich and famous, to washed up hippies selling beads, hell's angels, poor folk, tourists, locals, you name it. Aside from that are the views of what seems to be the endless blue of the ocean, the white sanded beaches just resting at the feet of the green cliffs of Malibu.

It's been a while since I've been in LA in the Spring so the experience of the light ocean breeze, the sun, and mild temperature combined with the natural beauty really makes you stop and think about how lucky you are to be alive.

California Love Part 2: the joj-man

Part of why I visited LA was a surprise to my Dad on his birthday. It was nice to see him but this time was a little different because not only did he grow a goatee, he recently joined a band called "LA Rythm" (insert gay joke here).

<- The joj-man in his "acting"prime

Anyway, last Saturday was their 'showcase,' aka their first gig. For anyone that doesn't know, my Dad was a pretty popular singer/sometimes movie star back in the PI. I always heard the stories but never really gave the thing much thought. Considering the "Rythm" had only been together for a couple weeks I didn't know what to expect.

The joj-man's album Cover ->

Saturday's concert was excellent. I had never really heard my father sing before, but you can tell the guy used to be a performer. Despite the venue being a restaurant/karaoke bar you could tell he knew his way around a stage and the glimmer of the old rock star in him could still be seen in his eyes .

Whatever happens, whether this is a hobby or some comeback attempt, I hope he's happy about it and wish him the best.

The point of the story? I guess no matter how well you may think you know someone, they can always surprise you.

Good luck pops, I love ya.

California Love Part 1: The Boy Takes Over

Man I love California! Grrrrrrrrrrruuuffffffffffffffffffff

What's that?!?

woof woof!!

yo, this my blog! go away!

woof! woof! ruff! ruff! ruff!

ok fine...u wanna say something, go ahead. Sorry for the interruption folks but my furry friend here has something to say. See, while i was in LA, I got to live with my pops and stepmoms and they have dogs. One of those dogs is better known as "the boy." A little background information about the boy. He's a basset hound who's I dunno how many years old, but I think its just a shade over a year. WOOF WOOF lemme tell them who you are first!

grrrrrrr.... wrapping it up, the boy enjoys chewing stuff, licking his balls, barkin/howling, belly rubs, sitting on the couch and slobbering. He also loves visitors...here's a picture of him, though its not a real picture cuz I still live in the stone age and am without digital camera. But trust me, its a very accurate portrayal of the boy...

So now that everyone knows who you are, what u got to say?

woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof!woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof!
woof! woof!

ruuf....rrrrrrrrrufffff....

for the folks at home, here's a rough translation. I think the boy was trying to tell everyone...

He's just a good old boy. Never meaning no harm. Beats all you never saw, been in trouble with the law since the day he was born.

Its sorta his theme song.

Anything left to say boy?

HEY! quit humping that dog!!!

WOOF!

As promised...

I don't really follow MLB but I think it's opening day isn't it?

As long as there's beer, baseball is actually quite tolerable. Plus, great thing to do on a summer day.

Reminds me of last summer when me, T, the catfish hunter and a couple others went to watch the Jays after work. Long story short, I had forgotten to invite some dude that actually wanted to go. Which is ironic considering, I had a hard time giving away a couple those tickets.

Oh well, one can be forgetful sometimes...But this story is about enjoyment.

See whenever a player comes up to bat they get their own theme song. For example, the O-Dog gets rap and the redneck players get Dwight Yokam or something. As for the Latino players, they get a funky salsa or sambas or merengue (please forgive my ignorance of the various genres) a rather.

Anyway, as the pulsating beats of our southern neighbor's high energy music pumped machismo through my veins all i could think was...

"_______ would have enjoyed this..."

Release Valves

I don't pretend to be Dr. Phil. Yet I know I could do a better job than that Oprah-coat-tail-riding, family-exploiting quack.

What I want to talk about right now is stress management. As a practicioner of anger managment (who some guy who has the same first name as Clipper Guard Maggette would enjoy), I have some credibility on this issue.

Borrowing a metaphor from the Big Aristotle, you can't ram a Corvette through a brick wall. So if someone you know is getting frustrated by trying the same thing, caught in routine or foolishly treading the same ground over and over only resulting in frustration.

I have a theory, frustration is an addiction such as crack or even better, buddha. Anyway, lesson of the day...it may be time for an intervention.

When the stress management release valve is causing stress itself, it's time to step in and save them from themselves.

In Dracula's Castle

<- Advanced Civil Procedure Professor, Count Dracula

How exciting! Who would have thought in my 2 and so years in Toronto I would meet Dracula himself?

Funny thing is Dracula ain't a bad proff. Well, he can't be that great considering I'm writing this while I'm in here.

One observation I've had in here over the years is the clicky keyboards. If they're saying something worth taking down, sure click away.

What I don't get though is the constant clicking when there's nothing to type. I suppose its MSN or games or better yet what I'm currently doing.

So I get back from a smoke break and a full on historical debate about Africa the Middle East or something a rather. As a student of history I should chime in or maybe at least care.

Nope. Couldn't really care in the least. Tell you what though, it was pretty interesting.

Here's my view on history. Remember that line about statistics?

"there are lies, damn lies, and statistics"

In other words, history is like statistics in this fashion. Our own biases and "centric" pride and nationalistic idealism shapes our interpretation of mish-mashed, random events into a singular view that suits our own sensibilities and values.

So who was right in the smokebreak debate? Probably both of them.

All I got a kick out of was interrupting a seemingly intense ADR discussion. Aside: who the hell has a group meeting with a teacher in a hallway. And they give me cut eye? Its a public spot jerk! You wanna conduct a class, do it in a classroom.

Another bonus? Got to show up to class from the break late and get the angry stare of my peers. They think it has an effect on me. In a way they're right. I love their disapproval, it turns me on.

Somebody once said that we define ourselves not only by the company we keep, but in the enemies we make. So if someone gets pissed off over some bullshit, I know I'm on the right track.

That's it for now folks, I think Dracula is saying something useful. If I don't listen he may suck my blood.

Stay tuned for the next installment when I discuss, the Blue Jays, Salsa Music and "enjoyment"

Take Care

The Catfish Hunter

Where do I begin with the catfish hunter? Wherever I decide to start, just realize any tale I tell can never truly live up to the legend.

Origins

It all started once chilly afternoon in November when the stranger came up to him and tried to shake his hand. "Uh, sorry stranger, your hand is too sketchy for me." What one must realize about the Catfish Hunter is that everything is presumptively sketchy. They say it's lonely at the top and when you make your business spearing catfish, trust is something that cannot be given lightly.

Why catfish?

This is truly the paradoxical life that the catfish hunter lives. You see, using stinkbait and a spear is a life with few rewards and much sacrifice. Sometimes we ask the catfish hunter, "why the catfish? Why not many of the very available pike or dogfish?"

To that he responds: ""Pike and dogfish are sketchy"

So did the stranger push him to this life? Is it his insatiable appetite for catfish?

Nobody truly knows what makes the catfish hunter tick.

All we really know for sure is: (1) he digs catfish, (2) he is sketchy and (3) there's some animosity with strangers...

The Pac's Blog

So I'm sick as hell and with some encouragement decided to start one, so here it goes...

So what do I start with? I really don't know, I'll talk about whatever I feel like I guess. For example, I was in the library today right?

Check it, before I finish the story, some people just need to be straight up capped, no doubt. Anyway, dude was washing his hands and I was waiting behind him and this guy decides to take his sweet time washing his damn hands. He whistles a tune while he does it. Now I don't know what the accepted time it takes to wash your hands but this fool crossed that line and then some. At this point I'm thinking to myself that this guy must be some kind of neat freak or something. What else can explain the homoisity of his behavior? So dude finally finishes and just wipes his hands on his pants! The friggin nerve! I mean he makes me wait this whole time and I try and accomodate him since he may be a neat freak and he did it just to piss me off.

Yet another example of the conspiracy to destroy me...I will have my revenge

See there's this episode of South Park called "die, hippie die!" about self righteous pretentious know it all hippies.

Seriously, I'm always greatful I had the opportunity to get the education I have recieved. But one thing I can do without are those hippie bastards trying to push their morality on me.

You know the kind. The I'm smarter than you. That asshole in the bar that Matt Damon punked out in Good Will Hunting who thought he was hot shit just cuz he's read Chaucer.

So what did I learn from college? Fuck idealism, fuck recycling, and hippies especially...fuck you

(thank you South Park)

If i sounded a little vengeful, that's ok. It's really my nature, but truth be told I'm a pretty nice guy. Hope all is well out there!

bye for now!