Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Respected Professor Forced to Talk About Drugs.
Springfield, MO --- At approximately one in the afternoon, a well respected and tenured professor in anthropology was forced to answer a student's inane and completely unrelated question about drugs. The professor, Dr. Suzanne Walker-Pacheco, who undoubtedly spent long hours buried under books and notes just to better understand the fields of anthropology, genetics, evolution, and primatology, was giving a lecture to her Anthropology 227 class about the structure and function of DNA when some student in the back of the class raised his hand. Most likely thrilled with the prospect of enlightening this student and furthering his understanding of a subject she has a genuine passion for, the 2008 winner of the Leslie Hewes Award: best social science article published in Great Plains Research, the 2006 winner of the College Award for Excellence in Research, the 2005 winner of the College Award for Excellence in Teaching, as well as the recipient of other awards called on him. The student, presented with the opportunity to have an expert in the field clarify something for the whole class, or to bring up an interesting and relevant topic the professor might have some unique insight to, instead asked if the people who discovered the structure of DNA were under the influence of the popular drug LSD. Dr. Suzanne Walker-Pacheco, probably too stressed about things such as her doctoral thesis to learn about or have much knowledge of hallucinogenic drugs, admitted she didn't know if they did LSD or not, but that the story sounded like an urban legend. As of press time, the class ran out of time to discuss gene replication in detail, but they can read about it in their textbooks.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
My neighbors were too loud, so I murdered them
So, there I was trying to sleep at the extremely early time of 2:00 in the morning. The party on the floor above mine was entering its third hour and my patience was wearing dangerously thin. These slow-witted morons appeared to have somehow convinced themselves that they were the only people living in the apartment.
Every contrived cackle from the tipsy sorority bitches caused my teeth to gnash. Every bounce of their ping pong ball from their exciting drinking games pecked a hole into my sanity. Every off tune moan from the considerate gentleman trying to sing infiltrated my mind and molested my brain.
What's worse is that it showed absolutely no signs of slowing down; in fact I overheard an entire phone conversation inviting yet more people over. Enough was enough. I knew what I had to do. I had to murder them.
I calmly walked upstairs and knocked on their door. Instantly, the noise died down to confused mumbles of "What the hell?" and "There's no way Jacob got here already!". They sent an unfortunate soul to investigate. I allowed his eye to get right up to the peep-hole before kicking the door open. The force of which fractured his Maxilla and Frontal bone and sent skull fragments into his brain, killing him instantly. On top of that, his broken husk was propelled across the foyer and into the living room wall, creating a 5'10 human shaped hole in the drywall. Everybody was understandably terrified.
Girls were screaming; men were trying to hide. I surveyed the room identifying targets before letting out a chuckle and muttering in a deep, frightening, yet seductive voice "Sorry to crash your party." Some chick passed out from a combination of fear and arousal and I gave a threatening half smirk to the remaining living, conscious people.
Immediately I zeroed in on some coward using his girlfriend as a human shield. I punched right through his girlfriend's face and strangled him to death while their friends watched in absolute horror. I don't know about chivalry, but they're sure dead.
Soon after that, I caught some chick hiding in the utility closet. I tore the top off the hot water heater with my teeth and dumped the scalding liquid all over her, causing extreme pain and giving her third degree burns. Her shrieks of unimaginable torment caused me to feel a long forgotten emotion that some people might recognize as "pity". I chose the merciful thing to do and crumpled her up like a piece of paper and jammed her in the freezer. You can't call me heartless.
Soon after that, the terrible musician snuck up behind me and swung his guitar at me. How adorable. My rock hard deltoid muscle shattered it into hundreds of toothpick sized splinters. I picked up the G string of the guitar, looped it around his torso, and yanked on the two ends. The result was a perfect transverse view of his thoracic cavity.
In the corner of my eye, I saw a guy in the grass pulling himself to his car with his arms. I concluded that he had jumped four stories off the balcony and caused damage to his spinal cord. I finished him of by hurling a heavy chest of drawers which landed directly on his neck, internally decapitating him. I laughed so hard I almost pissed myself. Luckily, I managed to pull my penis out with just enough time to urinate off the deck onto the would-be paraplegic.
I zipped my fly up with just enough time to hear Jacob arrive. The wreckage of the room and his friends left him frozen in disbelief. I emerged from the shadows, headbutted him and kicked his ass so hard that I wore his colon like a sock. Then I grabbed the passed out girl by the hair and rode her like a snowboard Shaun White style down the staircase. I started out with a Seatbelt grab, transitioned into a Double McTwist 1260, and finished it off perfectly with a Nose Blunt grind before landing flawlessly on the third floor where I live. But not before emptying everybody's wallets.
I've never slept more peacefully.
Every contrived cackle from the tipsy sorority bitches caused my teeth to gnash. Every bounce of their ping pong ball from their exciting drinking games pecked a hole into my sanity. Every off tune moan from the considerate gentleman trying to sing infiltrated my mind and molested my brain.
What's worse is that it showed absolutely no signs of slowing down; in fact I overheard an entire phone conversation inviting yet more people over. Enough was enough. I knew what I had to do. I had to murder them.
I calmly walked upstairs and knocked on their door. Instantly, the noise died down to confused mumbles of "What the hell?" and "There's no way Jacob got here already!". They sent an unfortunate soul to investigate. I allowed his eye to get right up to the peep-hole before kicking the door open. The force of which fractured his Maxilla and Frontal bone and sent skull fragments into his brain, killing him instantly. On top of that, his broken husk was propelled across the foyer and into the living room wall, creating a 5'10 human shaped hole in the drywall. Everybody was understandably terrified.
Girls were screaming; men were trying to hide. I surveyed the room identifying targets before letting out a chuckle and muttering in a deep, frightening, yet seductive voice "Sorry to crash your party." Some chick passed out from a combination of fear and arousal and I gave a threatening half smirk to the remaining living, conscious people.
Immediately I zeroed in on some coward using his girlfriend as a human shield. I punched right through his girlfriend's face and strangled him to death while their friends watched in absolute horror. I don't know about chivalry, but they're sure dead.
Soon after that, I caught some chick hiding in the utility closet. I tore the top off the hot water heater with my teeth and dumped the scalding liquid all over her, causing extreme pain and giving her third degree burns. Her shrieks of unimaginable torment caused me to feel a long forgotten emotion that some people might recognize as "pity". I chose the merciful thing to do and crumpled her up like a piece of paper and jammed her in the freezer. You can't call me heartless.
Soon after that, the terrible musician snuck up behind me and swung his guitar at me. How adorable. My rock hard deltoid muscle shattered it into hundreds of toothpick sized splinters. I picked up the G string of the guitar, looped it around his torso, and yanked on the two ends. The result was a perfect transverse view of his thoracic cavity.
In the corner of my eye, I saw a guy in the grass pulling himself to his car with his arms. I concluded that he had jumped four stories off the balcony and caused damage to his spinal cord. I finished him of by hurling a heavy chest of drawers which landed directly on his neck, internally decapitating him. I laughed so hard I almost pissed myself. Luckily, I managed to pull my penis out with just enough time to urinate off the deck onto the would-be paraplegic.
I zipped my fly up with just enough time to hear Jacob arrive. The wreckage of the room and his friends left him frozen in disbelief. I emerged from the shadows, headbutted him and kicked his ass so hard that I wore his colon like a sock. Then I grabbed the passed out girl by the hair and rode her like a snowboard Shaun White style down the staircase. I started out with a Seatbelt grab, transitioned into a Double McTwist 1260, and finished it off perfectly with a Nose Blunt grind before landing flawlessly on the third floor where I live. But not before emptying everybody's wallets.
I've never slept more peacefully.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
What is Wrong with Most Movies
I
was bored the other day, so I decided to take up the challenge of
watching Super Troopers to look for flaws in the movie. At first, I
thought the movie was perfect, then I thought harder and came up with
one flaw; Paul Rudd doesn't star in it. This is actually a problem
that's sweeping Hollywood. Paul Rudd doesn't star in enough movies. If
you ever hear me say "Wow, that movie sucks", which is something I say
often, the chances are that it doesn't have Mr. Rudd's name in the
credits.
For once, I'm not being sarcastic. I love this man's work. I first became familiar with him when I saw him as the main character in the movie Role Models. For those of you proficient at depriving yourselves of things that rule, in Role Models Paul plays Danny, a bitter, sarcastic shell of a man who finds himself to be more disappointed with life each passing day. Needless to say, it was the most relatable character I've ever seen in a movie; Paul played it perfectly.
Note the arid dryness of his voice as he uses biting sarcasm to mask the pain he's experiencing in his day to day life; note the look of pure irritation on his face after Ronnie decided that singing and dancing wasn't annoying enough and that he needed to throw things at the poor man. Paul is truly a master of his art.
I most recently saw Paul Rudd in the movie Our Idiot Brother and as much as I like the idea of Ricky Gervais making fun of uptight, washed-up celebrities with egos that rival the size and scope of a small solar system, I don't know if I'm going to bother watching the Academy Awards this year. Why? It will be unnecessary; that's why. Here's my prediction for the winners for a sample of the categories they go over:
Best Picture: Our Idiot Brother
Best Actor in a Leading Role: Paul Rudd
Best Actor in a Supporting Role: Paul Rudd
Best Actress in a Leading Role: Paul Rudd
Best Actress in a Supporting Role: Paul Rudd
Best Director: Paul Rudd
Best Film Editing: Paul Rudd
The reason Paul Rudd is getting every single award for that movie is because he's the only one who didn't try to sabotage it. Even the Wikipedia page agrees with me: "Most critics agreed that 'It's decidedly uneven, but like Paul Rudd's performance in the title role.'" This movie would have been a total disaster without him for two reasons. First, the character he plays is too difficult to act as for anybody below his caliber, i.e. everybody. Second, I hated everybody else in the movie, especially Zooey Deschanel's character.
Zooey's character, Natalie, is one of Ned's (Paul's character) three sisters, and because she's Zooey Deschanel, she has to be the quirky, artistic, eccentric character she's played as in every movie she's ever been a part of. She's also a lesbian. I'm usually a huge advocate of lesbians in movies. In fact, after not enough Paul Rudd, not enough lesbians is the second largest problem with films today. I hate to say it, but this movie would be better off without this particular lesbian.
Why? She's in a committed, long-term relationship with this hottie (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rashida_Jones) who also happens to be a lawyer, and jeopardizes having a relationship with the perfect combination of hotness, brains, and money in order to have sex with some dude just because she can.
This is why I can't stand women. If they would just pause a second and think about what the best option is long-term, rather than living life based off of what feels better in the moment; life would be a lot easier. Who cares if she's gorgeous, supportive, and dedicated; and cheating on her would tear her apart? I have myself to think about! Besides, I can always rationalize it later so I don't feel as guilty. Please.
You can bet money I was laughing hard when she predictably got pregnant. It always makes me feel a little better when life holds people accountable for their terrible decisions. The worst part of that movie was when her partner took her back because she apologized. I would have liked to see her have to raise that little brat herself and live the rest of her life lonely, depressed, and unwanted; but that's just me.
Actually, it's not just that character I hate. I just hate Zooey Deschanel. She has a habit of ruining every movie she's in because she only has the skill as an actor to play one type of character: the quirky, ironic, awkward, artistic girl who frequents local coffee shops. You'd think people would get sick of seeing the same character everywhere you turn, but apparently Zooey is incapable of getting enough camera time. I'm just thankful she seems to be busy with that awful show (New Girl) and won't be ruining otherwise decent movies like Our Idiot Brother.
Paul, if you read this, you're the man! Keep up the good work.
Zooey, try your hardest not to act or do anything publicly for a little while. My doctor says I really need to start watching my blood pressure.
For once, I'm not being sarcastic. I love this man's work. I first became familiar with him when I saw him as the main character in the movie Role Models. For those of you proficient at depriving yourselves of things that rule, in Role Models Paul plays Danny, a bitter, sarcastic shell of a man who finds himself to be more disappointed with life each passing day. Needless to say, it was the most relatable character I've ever seen in a movie; Paul played it perfectly.
Note the arid dryness of his voice as he uses biting sarcasm to mask the pain he's experiencing in his day to day life; note the look of pure irritation on his face after Ronnie decided that singing and dancing wasn't annoying enough and that he needed to throw things at the poor man. Paul is truly a master of his art.
I most recently saw Paul Rudd in the movie Our Idiot Brother and as much as I like the idea of Ricky Gervais making fun of uptight, washed-up celebrities with egos that rival the size and scope of a small solar system, I don't know if I'm going to bother watching the Academy Awards this year. Why? It will be unnecessary; that's why. Here's my prediction for the winners for a sample of the categories they go over:
Best Picture: Our Idiot Brother
Best Actor in a Leading Role: Paul Rudd
Best Actor in a Supporting Role: Paul Rudd
Best Actress in a Leading Role: Paul Rudd
Best Actress in a Supporting Role: Paul Rudd
Best Director: Paul Rudd
Best Film Editing: Paul Rudd
The reason Paul Rudd is getting every single award for that movie is because he's the only one who didn't try to sabotage it. Even the Wikipedia page agrees with me: "Most critics agreed that 'It's decidedly uneven, but like Paul Rudd's performance in the title role.'" This movie would have been a total disaster without him for two reasons. First, the character he plays is too difficult to act as for anybody below his caliber, i.e. everybody. Second, I hated everybody else in the movie, especially Zooey Deschanel's character.
Zooey's character, Natalie, is one of Ned's (Paul's character) three sisters, and because she's Zooey Deschanel, she has to be the quirky, artistic, eccentric character she's played as in every movie she's ever been a part of. She's also a lesbian. I'm usually a huge advocate of lesbians in movies. In fact, after not enough Paul Rudd, not enough lesbians is the second largest problem with films today. I hate to say it, but this movie would be better off without this particular lesbian.
Why? She's in a committed, long-term relationship with this hottie (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rashida_Jones) who also happens to be a lawyer, and jeopardizes having a relationship with the perfect combination of hotness, brains, and money in order to have sex with some dude just because she can.
This is why I can't stand women. If they would just pause a second and think about what the best option is long-term, rather than living life based off of what feels better in the moment; life would be a lot easier. Who cares if she's gorgeous, supportive, and dedicated; and cheating on her would tear her apart? I have myself to think about! Besides, I can always rationalize it later so I don't feel as guilty. Please.
You can bet money I was laughing hard when she predictably got pregnant. It always makes me feel a little better when life holds people accountable for their terrible decisions. The worst part of that movie was when her partner took her back because she apologized. I would have liked to see her have to raise that little brat herself and live the rest of her life lonely, depressed, and unwanted; but that's just me.
Actually, it's not just that character I hate. I just hate Zooey Deschanel. She has a habit of ruining every movie she's in because she only has the skill as an actor to play one type of character: the quirky, ironic, awkward, artistic girl who frequents local coffee shops. You'd think people would get sick of seeing the same character everywhere you turn, but apparently Zooey is incapable of getting enough camera time. I'm just thankful she seems to be busy with that awful show (New Girl) and won't be ruining otherwise decent movies like Our Idiot Brother.
Paul, if you read this, you're the man! Keep up the good work.
Zooey, try your hardest not to act or do anything publicly for a little while. My doctor says I really need to start watching my blood pressure.
That's it. I'm Moving to Norway
I just came to realize
how much I hate living in America. What could possibly be strong enough
to cause me to reach this kind of epiphany? Is it the fact that we
literally owe China billions of dollars that we'll be paying back until
the sun explodes? No. Is it the horrible state of this economy and how
unlikely it will be for me to get a job and pay off the immense college
debt once I graduate? No, not that either. Is it how all the politicians
are too busy holding a national pissing contest between the two major
parties to do anything about it? Is it these occupy wall street
protesters who, in my opinion, need another healthy dose of police
brutality? None of the above.
It's the fact that I know more about Kim Kardashian's marriage than I do about any of the above issues. How is it that I don't read magazines or newspapers, don't listen to the radio, barely watch any TV, only open an internet browser once or twice a day, and avoid celebrity gossip like rape, yet I still know that her wedding cost 10 million dollars and her marriage only lasted 72 days. It's because the news and media outlets feel the need to inundate us with this useless information. It's not like they're doing it just to bother me either (although it seems that way sometimes). They do it because people in America actually care about this garbage.
You might be wondering, "Yea, all that's annoying, but there's got to be other reasons to move to a different country." Well, you're correct. There is. Music.
Here's a list of well known American music acts. This can also double as a suicide note or a Christmas list to give to your buddy who "knows people".
Katy Perry
Lady Gaga
Taylor Swift
Maroon 5
Relient K
Miley Cirus
Death Cab for Cutie
My Chemical Romance
Any country music
Any rap music
U2 (I know U2 is Irish, but I really hate them and thought they deserved to be on the list anyway.)
Nickleback (Possibly Canadian? I don't know. I hate them too.)
Etc.
Now, here's a list of Norwegian bands:
Einherjer
Dimmu Borgir
Emperor
Immortal
Kampfar
Asmegin
Mayhem
Burzum
You should notice 2 things. First of all, American music is terrible. I don't know how we as a society have managed to tolerate music that bad for so long. Every time I hear Katy Perry I get just a little sick to my stomach. Yea, her music is bad enough to trigger a physiological response. There's something to be said about that.
Second of all, all the bands in the Norwegian list are heavy metal bands. That's not to say that every band in Norway is a metal band, but it does illustrate that metal is way more mainstream in Norway than it is in America. I'm sick of living in a country where when asked what my favorite music is I have to sheepishly reply "uhh....rock..." or risk being completely isolated from people (especially the opposite sex).
Why is metal treated like it's the worst kind of music for children to listen to? If anything, it's the best music for them to listen to. It will tell them from an early age how cold and unforgiving the world is and not to expect anything from it. It's a lesson they need to learn early on so they don't feel entitled to a new car, hugs, affection, food, etc.
The alternative to metal is the mainstream music, filled with sexual undertones, suggestive themes, and other things that will train children to be as sexually promiscuous as possible. How is this any better than death metal? These songs will lead to pregnancies in people not nearly mature, responsible, or smart enough to have children; ultimately resulting in a whole bunch of inductions on November 11, 2011.
Do you people not know how ridiculous this is? The rest of the world (e.g. Norway) watches us in complete disbelief while we undergo medical procedures putting both the mother and child at risk. And for what? So the child can be born on a date that has 6 consecutive ones in a row. Idiots.
My last point, before I go back to loathing my biology professor for giving an assignment over Thanksgiving break, is that America is boring. I mean, just look at this.
Whoever wrote the line "Amber waves of grain" in the song America the Beautiful had obviously never seen an amber wave of grain. Otherwise, he wouldn't have found it noteworthy enough to include in the song. Either that, or America is so boring that he had to include it for lack of any other material.
What does Norway have to offer? It has the ancestral burial grounds of the vikings, vast fjords, aurora borealis, the midnight sunrise, and trolltunga (roughly translated, troll's tongue) pictured here:
Norway: 1
America: 0
Well, that's about it. If you want to follow me to Norway, I don't blame you.
It's the fact that I know more about Kim Kardashian's marriage than I do about any of the above issues. How is it that I don't read magazines or newspapers, don't listen to the radio, barely watch any TV, only open an internet browser once or twice a day, and avoid celebrity gossip like rape, yet I still know that her wedding cost 10 million dollars and her marriage only lasted 72 days. It's because the news and media outlets feel the need to inundate us with this useless information. It's not like they're doing it just to bother me either (although it seems that way sometimes). They do it because people in America actually care about this garbage.
You might be wondering, "Yea, all that's annoying, but there's got to be other reasons to move to a different country." Well, you're correct. There is. Music.
Here's a list of well known American music acts. This can also double as a suicide note or a Christmas list to give to your buddy who "knows people".
Katy Perry
Lady Gaga
Taylor Swift
Maroon 5
Relient K
Miley Cirus
Death Cab for Cutie
My Chemical Romance
Any country music
Any rap music
U2 (I know U2 is Irish, but I really hate them and thought they deserved to be on the list anyway.)
Nickleback (Possibly Canadian? I don't know. I hate them too.)
Etc.
Now, here's a list of Norwegian bands:
Einherjer
Dimmu Borgir
Emperor
Immortal
Kampfar
Asmegin
Mayhem
Burzum
You should notice 2 things. First of all, American music is terrible. I don't know how we as a society have managed to tolerate music that bad for so long. Every time I hear Katy Perry I get just a little sick to my stomach. Yea, her music is bad enough to trigger a physiological response. There's something to be said about that.
Second of all, all the bands in the Norwegian list are heavy metal bands. That's not to say that every band in Norway is a metal band, but it does illustrate that metal is way more mainstream in Norway than it is in America. I'm sick of living in a country where when asked what my favorite music is I have to sheepishly reply "uhh....rock..." or risk being completely isolated from people (especially the opposite sex).
Why is metal treated like it's the worst kind of music for children to listen to? If anything, it's the best music for them to listen to. It will tell them from an early age how cold and unforgiving the world is and not to expect anything from it. It's a lesson they need to learn early on so they don't feel entitled to a new car, hugs, affection, food, etc.
The alternative to metal is the mainstream music, filled with sexual undertones, suggestive themes, and other things that will train children to be as sexually promiscuous as possible. How is this any better than death metal? These songs will lead to pregnancies in people not nearly mature, responsible, or smart enough to have children; ultimately resulting in a whole bunch of inductions on November 11, 2011.
Do you people not know how ridiculous this is? The rest of the world (e.g. Norway) watches us in complete disbelief while we undergo medical procedures putting both the mother and child at risk. And for what? So the child can be born on a date that has 6 consecutive ones in a row. Idiots.
My last point, before I go back to loathing my biology professor for giving an assignment over Thanksgiving break, is that America is boring. I mean, just look at this.
Whoever wrote the line "Amber waves of grain" in the song America the Beautiful had obviously never seen an amber wave of grain. Otherwise, he wouldn't have found it noteworthy enough to include in the song. Either that, or America is so boring that he had to include it for lack of any other material.
What does Norway have to offer? It has the ancestral burial grounds of the vikings, vast fjords, aurora borealis, the midnight sunrise, and trolltunga (roughly translated, troll's tongue) pictured here:
Norway: 1
America: 0
Well, that's about it. If you want to follow me to Norway, I don't blame you.
The Life of a Gangster
Hi, my name is Josh and I
am a gangster. All of my friends are gangsters too. That is why we all
dress the same and discuss the finer points of the latest lil wayne
album. People often ask me how one becomes a gangster and I tell them
it's something that can only be imbued into you from a hard life on the
streets. My brother wants to be a gangster too but I don't think he has
what it takes.
My friends and I often do dangerous things together in the streets. One of our favorite pastimes is to loiter at the basketball court behind the elementary school even though there's a sign there that tells us not to. Once, we even drove to a town large enough to have its own Wal-Mart without any adult supervision; but everybody was uncomfortable so we don't do that anymore.
Gangsters such as myself can be easily identified by their wardrobe. Most of us wear a tapout shirt despite the fact that we don't do UFC fighting, baggy shorts in the dead of winter, and a flat billed hat with a sticker on it. I once made the mistake of wearing a regular baseball cap and the other gangsters made fun of me for it. That night, I stacked up all of my textbooks onto the bill of my hat and left it like that overnight. That was the most use I've ever gotten out of my textbooks.
I also put a sticker on my hat which my little sister received from the dentist's office. It had a picture of Buzz Lightyear but astronauts are cool so it all works out.
The following morning, I went into my father's garage and measured the bill of my hat with his level. The bubble was in the middle, so my bill was flat. At school, when everybody noticed how flat my bill was I told them, "Yes, it is. I went into my father's garage and measured the bill with his level. The bubble was in the middle, so my bill was flat."
One of my teachers told me that I am too socioeconomically advantaged to be a gangster but she was obviously mistaken because I don't even know what socioeconomic means.
When my friends and I aren't loitering at the basketball court behind the elementary school despite the fact that there's a sign there that tells us not to, we like to make rap videos. Here's one we made the other day:
I know that my little brother's toys in the background aren't gangster but it's the best we could do at the time. We had originally intended to make the video in my living room but my mother kicked us out because she was entertaining guests at her weekly book club meeting.
Often, in pictures, I will hold out a wad of cash to the camera. People sometimes get angry and accuse me of showing off and being vain. In reality, I strike this pose because I have a lot to be thankful for and I want to show everybody how thankful I am. I also get nervous in pictures. My body will react to this nervousness by causing the tissue in my lips to become inflamed. All of my friends try to imitate this odd body reaction in subsequent pictures and I think it's to make me feel less self-conscious about it. Here is a photo to illustrate what I am talking about.
There I am with sixty sols or about twenty-five American dollars.
My friends and I often do dangerous things together in the streets. One of our favorite pastimes is to loiter at the basketball court behind the elementary school even though there's a sign there that tells us not to. Once, we even drove to a town large enough to have its own Wal-Mart without any adult supervision; but everybody was uncomfortable so we don't do that anymore.
Gangsters such as myself can be easily identified by their wardrobe. Most of us wear a tapout shirt despite the fact that we don't do UFC fighting, baggy shorts in the dead of winter, and a flat billed hat with a sticker on it. I once made the mistake of wearing a regular baseball cap and the other gangsters made fun of me for it. That night, I stacked up all of my textbooks onto the bill of my hat and left it like that overnight. That was the most use I've ever gotten out of my textbooks.
I also put a sticker on my hat which my little sister received from the dentist's office. It had a picture of Buzz Lightyear but astronauts are cool so it all works out.
The following morning, I went into my father's garage and measured the bill of my hat with his level. The bubble was in the middle, so my bill was flat. At school, when everybody noticed how flat my bill was I told them, "Yes, it is. I went into my father's garage and measured the bill with his level. The bubble was in the middle, so my bill was flat."
One of my teachers told me that I am too socioeconomically advantaged to be a gangster but she was obviously mistaken because I don't even know what socioeconomic means.
When my friends and I aren't loitering at the basketball court behind the elementary school despite the fact that there's a sign there that tells us not to, we like to make rap videos. Here's one we made the other day:
I know that my little brother's toys in the background aren't gangster but it's the best we could do at the time. We had originally intended to make the video in my living room but my mother kicked us out because she was entertaining guests at her weekly book club meeting.
Often, in pictures, I will hold out a wad of cash to the camera. People sometimes get angry and accuse me of showing off and being vain. In reality, I strike this pose because I have a lot to be thankful for and I want to show everybody how thankful I am. I also get nervous in pictures. My body will react to this nervousness by causing the tissue in my lips to become inflamed. All of my friends try to imitate this odd body reaction in subsequent pictures and I think it's to make me feel less self-conscious about it. Here is a photo to illustrate what I am talking about.
There I am with sixty sols or about twenty-five American dollars.
My Surrender
I know I write a lot
about how much I hate being in SGA, but seeing as how most of my posts
are derived from sources of frustration it only seems natural.
Thankfully, I finally decided to resign on Friday. My posts may come a
little slower, but if not writing ever again means not having to go to
SGA, I consider it a bargain.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Senators,
We have a lot on the agenda for tomorrow’s meeting. Please come prepared to do the following:
During Open Forum, we will hear from four individuals:
- Dr. Cofer regarding the University budget
- Representative Sara Lampe regarding education
- Victoria Culver regarding Bears Bringing Hope and the SAC Budget
- Speaker Bernet regarding Constitution changes
During Old and New Business, we will discuss all of the old business resolutions that are in your inbox or on the DMS, the four attached resolutions, and the following five that will be on the DMS soon:
- One resolution approves the Constitution
- One resolution approves the Wyrick changes
- Two resolutions concerns the Rec Center Fee
- One resolution concerns renovations to Glass Hall computer labs
Check the DMS for these additional resolutions and for the minutes.
Reminders of useful information:
- Voice Retreat: Applications for VOICE Retreat are available on the SGA website, and the event will occur April 8 – 10. They are due this Friday, March 25
- Long Range Plan: A presentation about the long range plan of the University will be held this Wednesday at 3:30 in the library.
As you can see, the agenda is packed, so please attend and plan to stay longer than usual. If you must resign or cannot attend, let me know.
Respectfully,
Jon Stubblefield
Sergeant at Arms
Missouri State University"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Jon Stubblefield,
I am sorry that I was unable to attend the March 22nd Senate meeting. I will give an explanation for this in due time, but I feel that in order to effectively communicate this, I must first explain what happened in last week's (March 15) senate meeting.
As senate last week dragged on and on, I found it increasingly hard to focus on what was happening. My mind began to wonder and began to question what my role in Senate actually was. Was it to voice my and my organization's opinion to representatives of the whole student body? No, the vast majority of resolutions are inane and I don't have an opinion on the matter. Was it to perform the tasks associated with my committee? No, I realized that nothing important happens in committee once I was assigned the task of creating a 'catchy title' for the game day chant competition. Two weeks in a row.
After concluding that I didn't actually need to be in SGA for it to proceed smoothly, my mind began to wonder to other topics such as the frailty of life, what 'love' really is, and humanity's role in the vast and unforgiving universe. These are pretty weighty topics, as I'm sure you can deduce; and after I spent a great deal of time pondering on them I felt like a much wiser man.
And we still weren't out of open forum.
(Note for the reader: open forum is the first part of a senate meeting and is usually very short. This one lasted at least an hour because somebody was talking about changes to the constitution.)
Now to the point of this Email; why I wasn't at senate last Tuesday. If I read your Email correctly, it would appear as if this week's senate would somehow exceed the time that last week's senate irreversibly stole from everybody in attendance. I would have loved to show up to senate at 5:30 after committee ends at 5:15, without a real chance to eat dinner, and sit there staring at the wall until we adjourn. Unfortunately, I concluded that my family life was more important and if I missed my granddaughter's graduation for a senate meeting, I would never forgive myself.
Unable to think of anything to do with the rest of my now free Tuesday evening, I thought harder and came up with about three hundred things. I couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if every Tuesday was like this. It was too enticing, so I decided that I would never attend an SGA function again.
I guess you could say that I am resigning, but I think that the term resigning doesn't give justice to everything I put up with (e.g. sitting through people painstakingly correcting the resolutions for minor grammatical errors, arbitrary senate procedure, endless debate over things that don't and never will matter, an overall feeling of hopelessness, etc). A more appropriate term would be surrender. Surrendering implies that I fought for as long as I could, but caved through force of sheer attrition.
I surrender.
Josh Hanes"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hi Josh,
Thanks for the interesting resignation—or surrendering—from the position of senator. I’ll inform Adrianne and Justin of this so they can follow resignation procedures.
Have a great rest of the semester, and thanks for your time.
Jon Stubblefield
Missouri State University"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Senators,
We have a lot on the agenda for tomorrow’s meeting. Please come prepared to do the following:
During Open Forum, we will hear from four individuals:
- Dr. Cofer regarding the University budget
- Representative Sara Lampe regarding education
- Victoria Culver regarding Bears Bringing Hope and the SAC Budget
- Speaker Bernet regarding Constitution changes
During Old and New Business, we will discuss all of the old business resolutions that are in your inbox or on the DMS, the four attached resolutions, and the following five that will be on the DMS soon:
- One resolution approves the Constitution
- One resolution approves the Wyrick changes
- Two resolutions concerns the Rec Center Fee
- One resolution concerns renovations to Glass Hall computer labs
Check the DMS for these additional resolutions and for the minutes.
Reminders of useful information:
- Voice Retreat: Applications for VOICE Retreat are available on the SGA website, and the event will occur April 8 – 10. They are due this Friday, March 25
- Long Range Plan: A presentation about the long range plan of the University will be held this Wednesday at 3:30 in the library.
As you can see, the agenda is packed, so please attend and plan to stay longer than usual. If you must resign or cannot attend, let me know.
Respectfully,
Jon Stubblefield
Sergeant at Arms
Missouri State University"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Jon Stubblefield,
I am sorry that I was unable to attend the March 22nd Senate meeting. I will give an explanation for this in due time, but I feel that in order to effectively communicate this, I must first explain what happened in last week's (March 15) senate meeting.
As senate last week dragged on and on, I found it increasingly hard to focus on what was happening. My mind began to wonder and began to question what my role in Senate actually was. Was it to voice my and my organization's opinion to representatives of the whole student body? No, the vast majority of resolutions are inane and I don't have an opinion on the matter. Was it to perform the tasks associated with my committee? No, I realized that nothing important happens in committee once I was assigned the task of creating a 'catchy title' for the game day chant competition. Two weeks in a row.
After concluding that I didn't actually need to be in SGA for it to proceed smoothly, my mind began to wonder to other topics such as the frailty of life, what 'love' really is, and humanity's role in the vast and unforgiving universe. These are pretty weighty topics, as I'm sure you can deduce; and after I spent a great deal of time pondering on them I felt like a much wiser man.
And we still weren't out of open forum.
(Note for the reader: open forum is the first part of a senate meeting and is usually very short. This one lasted at least an hour because somebody was talking about changes to the constitution.)
Now to the point of this Email; why I wasn't at senate last Tuesday. If I read your Email correctly, it would appear as if this week's senate would somehow exceed the time that last week's senate irreversibly stole from everybody in attendance. I would have loved to show up to senate at 5:30 after committee ends at 5:15, without a real chance to eat dinner, and sit there staring at the wall until we adjourn. Unfortunately, I concluded that my family life was more important and if I missed my granddaughter's graduation for a senate meeting, I would never forgive myself.
Unable to think of anything to do with the rest of my now free Tuesday evening, I thought harder and came up with about three hundred things. I couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if every Tuesday was like this. It was too enticing, so I decided that I would never attend an SGA function again.
I guess you could say that I am resigning, but I think that the term resigning doesn't give justice to everything I put up with (e.g. sitting through people painstakingly correcting the resolutions for minor grammatical errors, arbitrary senate procedure, endless debate over things that don't and never will matter, an overall feeling of hopelessness, etc). A more appropriate term would be surrender. Surrendering implies that I fought for as long as I could, but caved through force of sheer attrition.
I surrender.
Josh Hanes"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hi Josh,
Thanks for the interesting resignation—or surrendering—from the position of senator. I’ll inform Adrianne and Justin of this so they can follow resignation procedures.
Have a great rest of the semester, and thanks for your time.
Jon Stubblefield
Missouri State University"
Ask the Guy Next to You in Class Anything
Q: Hey, man. What did you get on that last test?
A: 102%
Q: 102%?!!?! Are you serious?
A: No, I have a neurological disorder which causes me to compulsively lie about my test scores... Of course I'm serious.
Q: Wow! I wish I was that smart. How did you get so smart?
A: Well, most of the time conception is determined by who can swim the fastest. Things were different than me because rather than arbitrary physical challenges, I had to undergo a series of tests designed to challenge my math, pattern recognition, logic, and critical thinking skills. The most worthy was allowed to fertilize the egg. When I was in the womb, my mother played classical music to me in order to strengthen neurological connections in my brain or something. All this did was annoy me, so that doesn't count.
After birth, I was on a strict diet of B-vitamins, horse flank, and water. I was allowed fifteen minutes of television per week and could only watch PBS. I once convinced my mother to let me watch the history channel but once she found out it was nothing but crackpot apocalypse theories and Hitler documentaries I wasn't allowed to watch TV for a year.
At the age of five, I was enrolled in a private school where they taught me quantum mechanics, histology, and PE as a required elective. All of this was easy as my family had hired the direct descendants of Charles Darwin, Albert Einstein, and Socrates to tutor me since the age of six months. My first word was 'derivative'. I was eventually separated from the rest of my grade because I was gifted. They gave me special one on one teaching where I learned the art of telekinesis. I used my new found powers to escape from the school and start life as a normal student at Missouri State University.
Either that, or I pay attention in class.
Q: So can you help me with homework sometime? I'm still struggling with the concept of graphing functions on a Cartesian plane.
A: Sure! I would absolutely love to take time from my schedule of 18 credit hours, several student organizations, and personal life to help you with your crippling ineptitude. Unfortunately, I believe in capitalism and have learned to never do anything you're good at for free. I value my wisdom at $2.3 billion.
Q: What's your major, anyway?
A: Pre-medicine
Q: Of course you'd be in a smart-person major like that.
A: Yes, everybody should choose their profession based on how intelligent they are. Reasons such as interest in the field, job satisfaction, service to others, and financial security have no place in deciding your future career. I really wanted to be an astronaut but I didn't think I was smart enough.
A: 102%
Q: 102%?!!?! Are you serious?
A: No, I have a neurological disorder which causes me to compulsively lie about my test scores... Of course I'm serious.
Q: Wow! I wish I was that smart. How did you get so smart?
A: Well, most of the time conception is determined by who can swim the fastest. Things were different than me because rather than arbitrary physical challenges, I had to undergo a series of tests designed to challenge my math, pattern recognition, logic, and critical thinking skills. The most worthy was allowed to fertilize the egg. When I was in the womb, my mother played classical music to me in order to strengthen neurological connections in my brain or something. All this did was annoy me, so that doesn't count.
After birth, I was on a strict diet of B-vitamins, horse flank, and water. I was allowed fifteen minutes of television per week and could only watch PBS. I once convinced my mother to let me watch the history channel but once she found out it was nothing but crackpot apocalypse theories and Hitler documentaries I wasn't allowed to watch TV for a year.
At the age of five, I was enrolled in a private school where they taught me quantum mechanics, histology, and PE as a required elective. All of this was easy as my family had hired the direct descendants of Charles Darwin, Albert Einstein, and Socrates to tutor me since the age of six months. My first word was 'derivative'. I was eventually separated from the rest of my grade because I was gifted. They gave me special one on one teaching where I learned the art of telekinesis. I used my new found powers to escape from the school and start life as a normal student at Missouri State University.
Either that, or I pay attention in class.
Q: So can you help me with homework sometime? I'm still struggling with the concept of graphing functions on a Cartesian plane.
A: Sure! I would absolutely love to take time from my schedule of 18 credit hours, several student organizations, and personal life to help you with your crippling ineptitude. Unfortunately, I believe in capitalism and have learned to never do anything you're good at for free. I value my wisdom at $2.3 billion.
Q: What's your major, anyway?
A: Pre-medicine
Q: Of course you'd be in a smart-person major like that.
A: Yes, everybody should choose their profession based on how intelligent they are. Reasons such as interest in the field, job satisfaction, service to others, and financial security have no place in deciding your future career. I really wanted to be an astronaut but I didn't think I was smart enough.
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