This is the title for today. It's been a while. I've been doing badly in school, not working very hard, and having a great time. I met this wonderful girl that I love to spend all of my time with, and all of my money on. I've probably changed majors due to my gpa, but whateva :p Too much stuff has happened to remember, so I think I'm done for now. I'm home for the summer, jobless, topless(teehee! :P), but I'm doing fine. Maybe I'll update later after I've spent enough time getting fit and getting a tan. I love you Justine :)

02-02-2002

I put both of my shoes on at the same time. I haven't been able to update this website lately because of how terribly slow my internet is here at school. I find it very amusing that a fifteen thousand dollar T1 line cannot allow me to do things my cable modem could at home. Oh well, whatever. I found a new(old) way to do this. I've resorted to writing in notepad once again. *sign*

I like kicking leaves when it is windy outside and watching them catch a gust of wind and ride up high into the air. Simple things can amuse us, or even hurt us. Human emotion is so fickle.. it can be good, it can be bad... An instantaneous smile that forms on that special girls face, or the cheerful countenance turned pained. I wish I could come to understand it all, but I know I cannot even begin to. I saw a tv show where these very stupid looking girls guessed what another had previously said about them. One question was what super powers they would like to have. To be able to read minds... that would be mine. Sure, being able to fly and become invisible would be fun for a while, but think how different the world would be if, every time you met a person, you could know what they were thinking. That girl in the pool room yesterday would know how I thought she was as annoying as she was fat. You would know who cared, and who was just there for the ride. But could we handle the truth? Such a generic question can be so very true.

I have a biology midterm in two days, yet I haven't studied at all. Im tired of studying. I expected to actually have some fun this weekend, but that didn't go as planned. All I can think about is STUDY STUDY STUDY and GO FASTER. Im obsessed. I guess the only complement I ever get that isn't related to "you're so good at .....(which I need help at)" is about my car. D00d what a ph4t ride, y0! That fuckin mass of metal is a money drain. If I could have all of the money I've wasted on it I'd just settle with having people drive me around, that is more fun anyway. So I wouldn't get all that attention.. but who gives a damn. Im tired of attention.

I sit here listening to Pachelbel over and over, I'll change to Beethoven or Mozart after I've heard the song enough. I can just listen to the music with my eyes closed and type this. Finding all of the right keys is only a matter of taking it slow... I can type forever without mistake as long as I find each key as slowly as necessary. Ah.. now I'm typing nothing. Oh well. I guess that means it's a good time to end this. I hope tripod will let me upload this one, and not screw up my links and such. *crosses fingers*

02-02-2002

That isn't right...

01-16-2002

nusrkibwc Unscramble it. Name of a city or a country? Typical IQ test question. My little brother always gets me to take those, and I'd be a proud member of Mensa five times over if they were accurate. First entry of the new year.. big deal. People get so worked up over the passage of time.. we celebrate birthdays, new years.. the same holdays over and over. It's just another year. I apologize for amitys sake, but I tire of such things rather easily. Christmas lights give the neighborhood a pleasant atmosphere for a couple weeks.. it is nice how santa clause waves at me at night.. but we needn't illuminate the world for a quarter of the year. Be realistic. Remember that energy crisis?

This is most likely my last day at home.. but I can't figure out if I could possibly go back this weekend instead of tomorrow because I can't access my schedule. Fortunately for me the UCR website is so congested that I can't change classes either. Neat. I think I may just skip class Friday(what a day to start the quarter, eh?) and rest another couple days. Im still feeling pretty bad. This medicine the doctor rushed to give me isn't getting rid of my cough. .and now I ache all over. *sigh* Will it never end?

Never without the car. Fixed power steering and exhaust leaks yesterday.. burned my arm on the y-pipe because I thought that would be fun. The red loctite I put on the collector bolts tastes pretty sweet, but it doesn't feel too good when it drips with oil and dirt into your eyes. Oh well, no harm done. Im used to it by now. My brother and I have been wanting to race since I rebuilt my engine, and we finally got to it last night. We figured the tools, system, fire extinguishers and extra fluids in my car would be a trade off for having his girlfriend with him. My car still weighs more though, since his has an aluminum block and radiator, low profile intake, and less metal all around. 0-60 stock for my car was over seven seconds, while his was closer to five seconds flat. Anyway, we were pretty even from 0-65, but then he pulled ahead. I think we were both impressed with how well I did. Both cars are pretty traction deficient, though. We'll have to work on that this summer.

01-02-2002

bitch! Yup, it says bitch! Im so tired. / yeah so tired. I got medicine today. he he yeah. OH hum heh. Puede interferir con la pastilla de control de natalidad. I KNOW! I had planned on writing something meaningful but I just deleted it. I guess you have to be in the mood to write, and I haven't really been in that mood for a few weeks. Anyway, happy new year everyone. 2002 will be a good one.

12-30-2001

Thank you. Thank you very much.

12-28-2001

Another story. Yeah, not really an update.. just a story by Bob.

          Click.
          The clock rolled over to six o’clock. His evening hour had officially begun. Work had been the usual bore. Paper shuffling to the left, paper shuffling to the right. Co-workers exchanging gossip and stock tips, women complaining about lovers and cramps. Bosses throwing orders around as if they were going out of style, and the continuous stampede of footsteps as temps hurried about, completing purposeless errands.
          But none of that mattered for now. His monotonous workday and tiring effects would be cancelled out by this evening romp. The young, single man sauntered to his dresser, bags forming under his eyes. Wearing nothing but his silk boxers, he gazed into the mirror.
          “Jesus, I look like shit,” he muttered to himself. But he knew how to fix that problem.
          Pop. One pill. Gulp. Pop. Two pills. Gulp. Pop. Three pills. Gulp.
          He looked into the mirror again, his face shined with a healthy glow. The bags were gone and his eyes were filled with a wiry energy. Rummaging through the dresser he pulled out his Ralph Lauren Polo Shirt, pleated slacks, and leather belt.
          Snap. Zip. Chink.
          Completely dressed, nearly ready to go, it was now time for his hair. With a little weave here, a little weave there, and a gentle application of his styling gel, his hair looked slick, stylish, sheik.
          Spray. Splash. He now smelled like perfection. Socks, shoes, finished.
          Click.
          The clock rolled over to seven o’clock.
          He hit the streets with a mean walk. He looked confident and stylish, a man who was capable of anything imaginable.
          “Hey stud, want a date?”
          Pausing, he turned around to see who the owner of this sultry voice was. A young woman, wearing thigh-high black boots, a revealing skirt with slits on the sides, and a size too small top from the Armani Exchange stood before him. Her thighs were shapely, her breasts were well-rounded, and her face exuded beauty. Underneath her overdone lipstick and eye-shadow was a princess.
          Looking into her eyes, everything seemed to make sense. No more worries, no more stress, just bliss. Nodding slowly, he took her gently by the arm and led her back to his apartment, which was only a block away.
          They made the usual small talk that unfamiliar lovers resort to in order to fill the silence. They shared uncomfortable laughter and lofty grins. The feeling that filled his heart was similar to that of meeting your first-love.
          Once back in his apartment, she sat gently on his bed, curling up in his soft white sheets that matched the bleached-white carpet. The look in her eyes said everything that needed to be spoken. Without a moment’s hesitation, he frolicked to the restroom and began his search through the medicine cabinet, and then the cupboard below the sink.
          He muttered to himself, “Damn it, where the hell is it?”
          "If you can’t find one, I have a few extra.”
          Chuckling, he replied cheerfully, “Trust me, you don’t have what I need.”
          “Ooooohhh, sounds like someone is hung like a horse. I just love that in a man, a real man.” The tone of her voice was that of a little girl who was proclaiming her love for strawberry ice cream, or possibly and more applicably, pony rides.
          Grinning widely he grabbed the half-filled bottle of bleach. This young vixen needed to be cleaned before he could risk fooling around with her. Unscrewing the cap he walked back into the bedroom.
          “Whatcha got there big boy?”
          Giggling, he replied, “Bleach.”
          As her face scrunched up into a confused frown he lunged forward with the open container. The bleach poured out like water from a garden hose. As the white base washed over her tender face, searing her eyes, burning her whorish lips, she let out a crescendo wail of pain and agony.
          To drown out her alerting screams, he forced her mouth open and poured the remainder of the bottle down her gasping throat. The bleach parched his hands and burned under his nails, but the endorphins coursing through him washed it all away.
          As she lay there, struggling to survive, eyes blinded and her insides burning away, the young man washed his hands. He undressed himself and threw his clothes in the hamper. There was no need to risk dirtying his threads. Returning to the bedroom, he grabbed the luscious whore by her discolored hair and proceeded to drag her into the bathroom, where he dumped her in the shower. Her cries were muted by her constant pain and the fact that she was uncontrollably vomiting. The young man sat by her side, and watched her battle with death for a period of minutes, wondering about her friends, her family, and her age.
          Nude, and glistening with sweat, he departed to the kitchen nook. There he made himself a bologna sandwich, and poured a glass of sparkling apple cider.
          Click.
          The stereo filled the apartment with the glorious sounds of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. Closing his eyes, and thoughtfully chewing his sandwich, he could imagine angels flying, demons screaming, women giving birth through their assholes, and deformed children running through green fields.
          Click.
          The clock rolled over to eight o’clock. The broken specimen still lived. But what she was going through could not, and should not be qualified as living in any way. He gazed at this suffering being who lay there shivering, shaking, convulsing, and whimpering.
          Confusion overwhelmed his mind.
          “What now?” he asked himself.
          Just as he began to doubt himself and his decision, “Ode To Joy” filled the room. As if God himself were directing him, the young man knew what to do. Reaching under the sink he procured a heavy wrench.
          He laid his hand upon the girl’s face and whispered, “Shhhh, it’s okay dear. Everything will be just fine.”
          Thunk.
          With a deft blow, he slammed the wrench against her breasts.
          Snap.
          Her ribs snapped like twigs.
          Thunk.
          Her sternum caved in. Her lungs caved in, no longer capable of taking in air. She squirmed, delivering silent screams and groans. The blood from her torn flesh splashed across his face, across his waiting lips.
          As the “Ode To Joy” reached its climax, everything turned into a blur, a frenzy.
          Thunk. Thunk. Snap. Gasp. Thunk. Gasp. Snap. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
          Click.
          The clock rolled over to nine o’clock. They body in the tub no longer resembled a human being. All he could see was bruised and torn flesh, protruding bones, blood, and gore.
          His muscles were hard with exertion, his arm burned from lactic acid, and his cock was painfully hard from the eroticism of this event. Setting down the wrench he pulled a ribbed condom from the medicine cabinet. Carefully putting it on, he entered the tub and straddled the mangled mass of humanity. He pushed up her torn and bloody skirt, sliding
          “Ribbed for her pleasure,” he laughed to himself.
          This young man rode her with passion and love, wondering what the next day would bring him. But none of that really mattered for now, because he had his beauty, his love, his evening delight.

12-21-2001

Winter break. Finals are over and Im back at home now, fixing things and hurting myself. Oh yeah. I had to stay at school thursday until about 10:15 because Im somewhat competent, not like all of the other escorts that did not show up. 2/6 of us were on time, 1 came an hour and a half late. But hey, I got to be dispatcher and sit on my ass for two and a half hours, so it wasn't so bad.

The two nights that I've been here I have had dreams and been able to remember them.. I guess I can only dream at home, while I can hardly sleep at school. The reason I've been sick is probably because of sleep deprivation.. your body heals from the day while you rest, but you can't rest when it sounds like a football game is being played outside your door from 1pm to 3am and you have classes as 9. Yeah, Im bitter. But at least now I can go take a shower without wearing sandals. I think I might even take a bath...

12-15-2001

Here I am again. Last night(this morning) at about 2am Scott started talking in his sleep, and then snoring.. I wasn't tired enough to sleep anyway, so I started surfing the thirdgen.org message boards. My post count has almost reached 1000, so I frequent the boards a lot. I found an article about someone who had written about the death of the fbody. For those of you who don't know what that is, the camaro and firebird are no longer being produced. The author credited this to "computer chips." I guess she doesn't know that cars have been computer controlled since at least the early 80's. The article can be seen here: http://www.boston.com/dailyglobe2/335/auto/Computer_chip_ends_Detroit_Muscle_s_reign+.shtml

Now, it was 2 am and I was pretty mad at this guy(its actually a women, no wonder!). To be so ignorant of cars in general and still write this crap about them.. she claimed that a $500 chip could give already "feisty" import engines 50 horsepower..bullshit. Yeah, a ford focus is real feisty, and putting in a computer chip magically gives it another 50 horsepower. She made it sound like you have to take an entire GM engine apart for only minimal gains, while you could upgrade every part of the honda civic. That just made me mad.. how ignorant can people be? Adding an exhaust tip and racing stripes, and a stereo in your econo-box honda-cart isn't going to make it a muscle car, like she claims.. anyway, here is an email I wrote her:


Hello. I recently read your article at Boston.com, and I would just like to point out how much of a joke it is. You are clearly completely ignorant of american cars in general, as well as imports. The computer chip killed the camaro and firebird huh? Are you aware that cars have been computer controlled since as early as 1981? Did you know that many f-body enthusiasts burn their custom own prom computer chips to make custom fuel tables and timing curves? (thats programmable read only memory for the ignorant, such as yourself). Older cars have eproms(you guessed it, erasable programmable read only..). And so on. What is a fuel table, and a timing curve you ask? Well you must know this, since you're so sure that a $500 computer chip can add 50 horsepower to a stock "Audis, Hondas, Volkswagens, Mitsubishis, the Ford Focus". Oh yeah, I'll wave my bullshit flag at that. There is no way in hell any of these cars could benefit that much in stock form from a single computer chip. What, is it magic or something? Is that how cars work? Press the pedal and magic makes the wheels spin?

"But to add 50 horsepower to one of these rigs meant boring out the cylinders, tinkering with valves, changing pistons ... a greasy, lengthy job." Wow, that was a very ignorant statement. Do you know that boring out the cylinders in an engine creates a very negligable performance gain? Boring is cleaning up the cylinder walls so that the engine block can be reused(yeah, they call that big piece of metal a block, and its not even a cube!). Greasy, Ewwwwwwwwwwww!! Anything you do with a car is dirty, even a honda.

"Tricked out, chipped up, turbocharged, and customized, a Honda Civic, an Audi A4, a Toyota MR2, a VW Jetta all meet the needs of those looking for what the Camaro and Firebird offered their generations." Bullshit. No one in their right mind that had ever liked an fbody would go this route. Sure, you can spend $10,000 on your econobox honda civic to make it as fast as I spent $2500 to go, but then it wont even be street legal. Let me introduce you to a century old term, "Naturally Aspirated". Yeah, thats N/A. You may have seen it in one of your favorite rice burner flicks, such as the fast and the furious. Thats what superchargering, turbocharging, and nitrous injecting are. By the way, nitrous isn't permanent, thats why its called "cheater gas." Back to the point. In stock form new camaros and firebirds have around 300 rear wheel horsepower, as opposed to the honda civic which has probably 160 at the flywheel. I wouldn't go into flywheel versus rear wheel horsepower with you, its much to complicated for you to understand. But anyway, we'll say that 300 horsepower in the camaro could be converted to equal about 360-375 horsepower at the flywheel. Lets compare. 160..375.. Add turbo to a honda and you get maybe 300, add it to a camaro and you get 700. Didn't know that, huh? A 50 horsepower chip and a chrome tip doesn't exactly make your little import very fast now, does it?

Then you go into how "tuners" individualize their cars, yet they all follow a three step plan? Okay, first of all there is that magical computer stuff that you wish you understood. Next comes upgrading exhaust to boost horsepower. Boost huh? Is that a synonym for release? Oh yeah, that heavy body kit is a must. Couldn't do it without that.

I'll applaud your efforts for trying to explain why fbody production is stopping, but next time you may want to do some reading.

12-07-2001

Is this amazing? Another update! Holy crap! Maybe I've started something. I think this is the longest surviving website I have ever created...over four years. Too bad I didn't use it for over three of those years. Anyway, here is whats new:

Finals are coming! Next week! Calculus and chemistry finals.. so only one real final to study for. I'll cram a little for chemistry, but I REALLY need to study calculus. Honors is done with for the quarter, the ethics class was actually interesting today. A Jew and a Roman Catholic spoke about religion and..what the hell, someone moved my clock.. oh well. Yeah, religion. Always an interesting topic when you get a hundred and fourty students in a room to discuss, especially when someone has the audacity to call god a monkey as a ..Whoopi Goldberg said that the most common names in the bible are Latisha, Latifa, Shaniqua, and Johnson. Then some idiot agreed with her, what the f@#$!? Oh well. This creature can eat its own weight in a day and is very distructive? What is it? A teenager? ! A locust! Sorry, Im listening to Hollywood Squares... this show is so very stupid.. This humor is obviously created for unintelligent people, just as 99% of television is. I was actually discussing that with my roommate today. Notice how all of the crappy colleges advertise on TV? The average dumb person sees that and goes, "Wow! I can get a job in computers/medical/dental/etc!" Sure, as a computer/medical/whatever ASSISTANT or some lame entry level job that you hardly need schooling for. Okay done with that topic.

On to something that I was sent last night. My friend Bob told me that he had written a story because he just had an urge to write. He was told to write a story using the words "papaya", "magnet", and "sandals". Enjoy.

          I'll never forget that bitter sweet day in the Bahamas when I met that beautiful dark-skinned Papaya girl. I recall walking through the streets of a tropical paradise, vibrant colors surrounding me, people drinking from coconut shells, the works. What you would think of only seeing in cheesy Hawaii flicks was actually a reality here. This was a place I would be happy to die in.
          On that joyous day I remember walking down the cobble-stone pavement, grinning as the natives marveled at what appeared to be my white skin. I guess just about anything shy of black seems white in comparison to those who have been conditioned to the blistering heat.
          Like a sudden burst of fireworks, I can recall being engulfed in flashing spots of brightness. As the world began to spin, all I could see was a blurry shape heading towards me. A moment later, all was dark.
          After what seemed like an eternity I can recall climbing out of the darkness, and entering a world basked in coolness. Shade surrounding me in every way I looked. But what I recall the most is the feeling of warm arms wrapped around my sweaty torso. Once my eyes adjusted, I could make out the person holding me. It was a dark-skinned beauty. Her hair was long and flowing, her legs were firm and toned, and last but not least, her chest carried a voluptuous bounty. I was mesmerized to say the least.
          I asked her for her name and all she could say in response was, "Papaya." I asked again and received the same response. After a few minutes of this mindless exchange, I realized that she did not speak English, and that she always answered "Papaya" because that is what she sold. To the left of her firm thigh was a basket filled with ripe papayas. My mouth watered for a taste of them, but more specifically, my mouth watered for her.
          Upon further inspection I realized that I was in her personal dwelling. The windows were covered with reeds which would explain the complete shadiness of the room. Before I could make a move she removed my sandals for me and placed them on a rack. I watched her hips sway as she walked, and was treated to sight for sore eyes when she dropped one sandal and bent over to pick it up. The tight cloth of her torn skirt seemed to expose her shapely hips and firm upper thighs. She almost seemed to wiggle her firm assets at me...teasing me...taunting me. It was at that moment I realize that this dark-skinned Papaya girl was the same as the bleached-blonde bimbos I left behind in sunny So-Cal.
          I couldn't understand why I always seemed to attract these types. It is as if I am a magnet of sorts, one that only attracts depraved human-beings. As she turned around and gave me a come-hither smile, I quickly sprung to my feet. My eyes resembling that of a jackal on a hunt, and who had just found his prey.
          I can still remember her eyes growing wide in fright as I approached her. I can even audibly recall her screams as I pressed my thumbs against her eyes as she fought to close them, as if her eyelids offered some sort of protection. I can even recall the nearly crescendo wail she gave as my thumbs popped through her eyes and drained them of their creamy center. Humorously enough, I can recall giggling at this point, the way her eyes oozed reminded me of Easter Day with the family and friends, and those delectable cream filled chocolate eggs. If only I could remember the name of those delicious treats...ahhhh....the things you lose going from childhood to adulthood.
          The shock of my intrusion must have been great, considering she collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap. As I kneeled by her I slid my slick hand up inside her skirt... caressing her smooth thighs.. teasing the border of her panties... rubbing her silky soft fuzz in between my fingers.
          All good things must come to an end in that she began to awaken from her pain-induced haze. Not adjusted yet to the fact that she has no eyes, she quickly stood up and collapsed once again. I quickly pounced upon her tender body, her screams of protest attracting no attention. As she struggled I slithered down her body, enjoying every inch of the friction. As I placed my lips against her neck I savored the taste and the her sheer essence. If life had a taste and smell, this was it, right here.
          As I began to close my teeth around her jugular, I can remember the way her screaming tickled my tongue. As my grip became tighter, my teeth bearing through her skin, I can still feel the way her body jumped. Was it in fear? Was it in excitement and anticipation, just like what a virgin goes through on her honey moon bed? I do not know, I never had a chance to ask her, because soon afterwards I bit down hard, my incisors puncturing her vital veins. Her blood, like a sweet red wine, flowed freely into my awaiting lips and warm mouth. I drank her wetness, the salty taste filling me with a warmth never felt before. This seemed so natural to me, as if I were brushing my teeth or relieving myself first thing in the morning. Her thrashings were intense at first, but as her vital fluids drained from her paling body, she grew stiller and quieter. After what seemed like a brief second in time, she lay there motionless. I quickly cleaned myself the best I could, having to dispose of my bloodied shirt. I combed my hair and was set to go...except for one thing... I walked over to her side and grabbed a treat from her basket. Holding the sweet papaya to my satisfied mouth I took a generous bite. The sweet nectar of the fruit causing my senses to tingle. Leaving what was once her home, and now her tomb, I strutted down the narrow street, holding a half-eaten papaya in one hand, and freedom in the other. I may have been shirtless, I may have been barefoot, but none of that can diminish the memory of my Papaya Girl.

12-05-2001

wind0ze XP is gr8 Yup yup, its so great that I just have to write about it! It runs so much faster than millenium that it makes me question why microsoft ever released that piece of crap! What were they thinking? For everyone that has a computer with windows ME, its only because the store you bought it from paid $1000 for 2100005 copies of it because they are cheap. Microsoft mass produced that garbage and had way too many left over, so they were sold cheap to Circuit City, CompUSA, Best Buy, and every other place people buy ready-made computers. HA HA for you. If you stop by my room later on I will laugh at you if you want.

Whats up with all these girls from Amsterdam, Spain, and all over the world just randomely finding me and talking to me? How does that happen? From about 15-23 years old looking for an 18 year old guy, and some of them are pretty smart and attractive too. Aren't there enough men in Europe? Maybe they've been conscripted. "a/s/l a/s/l a/s/l a/s/l a/s/l?" lol

I've been listening to Adam Sandler's Chanukah song, the 60 year old man song, the cock and balls song, and his piece of shit car. These songs are pretty old, and I never realized how funny some of them are. He should get an award. Speaking of music, BUSH IS GOOD. Their new album "Golden State" is worthy of mention while Im on the subject. Oh yeah, Nickelback too.

I keep hearing someone sign on and off on my buddy list, and then on Scotts. He was nice enough to leave his computer on while he left to go see a speaker series. Must be this piece of shit school network disconnecting someone, as it as been doing for me all along. I wonder if there is a room where the RCCs go and flip switches to randomely disconnect people for fun. "he he he I bet that guy was downloading a movie he he he *drool*" I have one of those starbucks frappuccino in a bottle things that I've been putting my mail into. I just tear it into little pieces and shove it inside. No, its not entertaining and I don't know why I do it but I DO SO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.

Warning: Page has Expired The page you requested was created using information you submitted in a form. This page is no longer available. As a security precaution, Internet Explorer does not automatically resubmit your information for you. To resubmit your information and view this Web page, click the Refresh button.

12-03-2001

Whats red and yellow and purple all over? A hobo that someone painted red and yellow and purple. It has been a month and a half since I last updated, let me get you up to speed. I've been at school. Thats about it. My car is finished, its working alright. Riverside smells like cows, and the layer of smog conveniently holds the heat in all day. It actually rained today, but for some reason that just made it smell even more like manure.

I got a speeding ticket for going 88 in a 65 on the toll road, but Im pleading not guilty through the mail. The cop made a mistake on my ticket, so Im pretty confident that I can get out of the 200+ dollar fine and the point on my record and raise in insurance. I hope. I don't go to chemistry very often, my classmates are very stupid. The class average on our midterm was 60/150, I got double that. Hopefully that is good for an A, that would be a nice start. These honors classes have been very disorganized so far, as has most of the things here on campus. I guess I've grown somewhat more cynical after being subjected to an even larger, more different society. I really don't miss being part of the majority, all of the different people here are decent for the most part. Except for some idiots that live across from me, I can't wait to fuck with them some more. I've made a habit of it. Oh, and to all of you fake people pretending to be my friend, put down the facade GO FUCK YOURSELVES!!(you know who you are)

Tomorrow is Halloween, and I really don't care. Halloween is for little kids to dress up and eat too much candy and make themselves sick, and for old people that like to live vicariously through their children. Maybe its good for those high schoolers than can run amuck in their neighborhoods and vandalize whatever they want... ahh the good old days.

There is this black guy that we'll call "Al"(American psycho, anyone?) that walks around University Avenue between Carls Junior and Dennys(from what I've seen) that wears a blue shirt and begs for money. He starts off saying, "this isn't a hold up or nuthin," and continues to tell you a sob story about how his wife kicked him out of the house(three weeks ago, it musta been!) and that he doesn't normally do this, but he needs money so he can buy some food(booze). I gave him some of the change in my car once, only to have one of the girls I was with freak out and lecture me about how I shouldn't do that. Yeah, okay. I know you're concerned and all, but I don't think this guy is going to attack a group of four people. Tom and Jerry is the best.

More to come later, if I find time. Im hella lazy at school.

10-30-2001

Taking a break. Click.. An ironic picture relating to last Tuesday. I wonder what it will be remembered as..September 11th, the day the World Trade Center fell, or..the start of World War III? The only day I can remember where our entire nation stood still, pinned to the TV. Airports closed, schools let out, stock market dead, borders shut down. Never have we seen such an occurrence. Five thousand dead. Five thousand.

What will come of this?

09-15-2001