| Not ded. |
[Nov. 24th, 2008|09:01 am] |
Sorry to disappoint, not dead, work takes up bunches of time though. Having a job is actually pretty sweet, making moneys and all, the people here are friggen sweet. I have decided that I NEED to just start writing everything down, because seriously, if I told somebody all the stupid and awesome things that happen every day, you wouldn't believe me. Get this, there are a handful of women here who are... let's just say that they're getting close to the retirement age. Well, I found out by accident that one of them is a serious hardcore halo player. Imagine your grandma sitting you down and educating you on the finer points of how to toss plasma grenades to pwn nubz. Seriously. This is an old woman who gets down with 1337sp34k and is completely at home manning a warthog chaingun.
The guy in the cubicle next to me plays guitar. Yeah, ordinary? Well, he's played onstage with Lynyrd skynyrd when they were still alive, he's played shit-tons of warm-up gigs with AC/DC, AND still plays in a rock band. This seems like the type of guy that owns every beatles album and rebukes anything made thereafter, but he is clearly the exception, because his favorite band is Queens of the Stone Age.
There's an old old man out back who used to be special ops, he goes camping with nothing but his survival knife (Which has things like fishing line and plastic sheets in the handle) and LOVES it. He once kayaked from New Jersey to North Carolina and caught all his food along the way by fishing off of his kayak, and yes, if it's a big fish it pulls you around like a chariot. He ALSO just bought those glasses with the TV screens in them for his Sony PSP and loves Castlevania. How KICKASS!
The other old lady is absolutely hysterical, she was born in Ireland but raised in England, so she SOUNDS english but her vocal 'isms' are Irish (Me family, aye, etc..). She's worked everywhere under the sun, used to rent a boat on friday nights when she was younger to go to the pubs with her friends, and somehow never fell overboard, and she punched bono in the FACE. YEAH, Bono! Apparently when he was on the up-and-coming in Ireland her brother was in a rival band, and there was a night when her brothers band and Bono were having shows on the same night, and her brother's band pulled out a much larger crowd. So once they were done, they went to go see what poor ol' Bono was up to, and he was super duper bitter, and some lady was heckling him in the front row, and he reached down and punched her right in the face. Naturally, there was a SUPER HUGE RIOT FIGHT, and she (the lady this paragraph is about) managed to work her way all the way up and get a solid right hook into Bono's fucking FACE.
The secretary calls that CPR move the "Heimlich Remover" which is just fantastic.
So yeah, working is pretty sweet. |
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| Halloween |
[Oct. 20th, 2008|08:38 am] |
I am COMPLETELY torn as to what to be for halloween, I've got it down to three things.
1- Tony start w/ arc reactor, a la this.
2- Edward Norton in something, I feel like I look enough like edward norton (see? I don't have muscles though) to maybe pull it off, maybe just get myself some hulk hands or something?
3- Team Fortress 2's The Scout - You don't need to be a video game nerd to appreciate this guy, here's a quick meet the scout video. He looks and sounds almost exactly like Vince selling the ShamWOW. Just watch them back to back, you'll see. Just imagine Vince going "BOINK!... BUMP!" when punching the shamwow into the carpet sample. I'd have to find a place to get that little messenger bag, spraypaint a plastic bat silver, find a solid covered hat, some hand wrap tape, and I guess some sambas or somethin.
INPUT, GO. |
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| Fog rules |
[Oct. 1st, 2008|08:22 am] |
The most boring drive becomes SUPER exciting when there's an incredibly dense fog. I've done this drive enough now to do it in my sleep, I could just zone out for the whole thing and arrive at my destination on autopilot, but this morning there was a fog so thick that even if I were tailgating it would be hard to see the car in front of me. You'll be zippin along at 55MPH and you know there's a turn coming up somewhere, but you don't remember how far ahea-HOOLY CRAP HERE IT IS! Br-br-br-br-br-br-rrrrrrrr! (That's my tire skidding/squealing noise). So yeah, you don't know something's coming until you're almost right on top of it, and it's friggen exhilarating.
Oh man, holy crap, I just realized this. Alright, so when I was a kid, we went to Doctor Rayness. It only works if you say it out loud, go ahead, try it. My doctor right now? It's said "Pen-ness-ton," but it's spelled Peniston. Immaturity is AWESOME! |
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| Cool things on the way to work |
[Sep. 30th, 2008|12:42 pm] |
Every day on the way to work I see:
A roadside sign (not a billboard, think like an old-school saloon sign) that has nothing on it but a barn and the words "HAY." I always yell "HAYYYY" when I see it
A chevy impala that has such a severe lift-kit on it that it could probably drive over a laying down Michael Moore and not touch him, it's also got bright green lights under it, giant chrome rims and tinted windows.
A mailbox that's gotta be at least 25 feet in the air. If I were the mailman, I'd totally find a way to put the mail up there just to get back at the jokester who thought it was funny to make a mailbox that high up.
LOTS of animals, I pass by a little mini-zoo, so I see giraffes, ostriches, zebras, monkeys, and donkeys every day.
I also pass tons of sheep and horses, they're not part of the zoo.
The most expertly crafted policeman speed-trap hiding spot I have ever witnessed, he must have been honing this spot for years. Now that I know where to look I can see him before I get there, but unless someone pointed him out or you just saw him by accident (like me), you'd never know hew as there. He's like the trap-door spider of policemen.
A house with a door on the 2nd floor that leads to NOTHING, it just goes right out to a DEATH PLUNGE! Seriously, it's like the door in Who Framed Roger Rabbit where Danny DeVito walks out the door and finds himself outside the building falling....only not nearly as severe.
I'm always afraid of drivers around where I work, since it's pretty much on (we share a wall with) an Air Force base. Everybody on the road is in their camouflage, so I figure if I cut them off I'll get an airstrike ordered on my car on the way home.
You guys should really look around, there's all SORTS of awesome things out there that you'd totally miss if you were zoned out. It's a pretty boring drive, 40 minutes through mostly rural New Jersey, but look at all this stuff I'd be missing out on! |
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| The road to work |
[Sep. 24th, 2008|08:06 am] |
So I see all sorts of crazy stuff every day, and it's time I start sharing them with you. I don't have a camera, so I had to steal one for a day to get today's. It's a 40-min drive each way, so it'd be quite easy to get bored and just zone out, but then you'd miss all SORTS of stuff, like this:
Behold, the HUNGRY TREE!
Look out electric wires! It's ravenous and UNSTOPPABLE! (Also, I think this image might wtfpwn your browser's H-scroll if you're using a low screen resolution.) |
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| Health, SHMEALTH |
[Aug. 7th, 2008|01:43 pm] |
So last time I told you guys about I thought there was urine in my energy drink, well, I was wrong. Lauren informed me as to what it really was - pig bile! Nice! Well today I bring you another tale of putting my health in danger.
So there's this little tiny metal rod that's been hanging around my "office." For those that are unaware, I don't have an office, I'm in a giant laboratory all by myself because they haven't cleared out a space for me in the actual office yet, but it's not so bad, lab stuff to my left, welding table behind me, etc. Anyway, the little tiny metal rod, it's like 4 inches long, about as thick as thick pencil lead, and sharp on both ends. Of course I use it to just poke stuff, try and stab it into the desk, it's just the idle-hand-occupier. Whenever I'm not doing anything, I'm just twiddling around this sharp piece of metal, was doing this for two weeks-ish.
I just found out that little piece of metal was radioactive tungsten. Score! Hahah, I DEFINITELY had put it in my mouth at some point too, I'm sure of it. Anyway, it's only mildly radioactive, it's not straight up glowing and it's part of the welding business behind me, so it can't be life threatening or anything. I just thought that was kind of funny, drinking pig bile while I twirl around a radioactive tungsten rod! |
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| This is the remix edition of a song about pissin' |
[Aug. 5th, 2008|07:10 am] |
So I've taken to drinking one of those 'energy drinks' in the mornings because I'm afraid of getting hooked on coffee (I've seen what it DOES to people). Well, I'm having a "Monster Khaos" this morning, and I set it back down and look at the can and immediately start choking. Right there around the rim are the ingredients they think you should know about, ginseng, carnatine, and urine.
Holy hell, urine?! With Monster 'energy juice' almost coming out of my nose from me choking, all I can think about is URINE almost coming out of my nose. It's in my choking fit that the glare from the lights shifted and I see it's actually "Taurine." I'm not sure if that's worse or not, Taurine = Taurus urine...? Now THAT'S a good way to start the morning, with a nice big mouthful of Taurine. |
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| Of Maus and Man |
[Apr. 17th, 2008|07:40 pm] |
If you have any qualms about the extermination of small mice, you might just want to skip this.
In King of Prussia, Pennsylvania, there is an apartment with bare white walls and a creaky floor, a place where the neighbors only become active after 2AM and are most likely prostitutes, a place where two engineers were nearly bested by a single mouse. Late one night, my roommate Dan and I were playing Smash Bros when he noticed a tail sticking out from behind the guitar hero controller. As he got up to inspect, I saw the biggest cockroach of ALL TIME scurry out from behind the TV stand. It took a second to realize that despite living close to a nuclear power plant, roaches don’t get this big. They also aren’t fuzzy. A MOUSE! There’s a MOUSE in the apartment! It scooted behind the fridge and sat there, when we shone a flashlight in there, we could see the thing staring back out at us with those black, soulless eyes. It was trapped, and it knew it. We sat for a minute, trying to figure out what to do with the thing, I immediately threw open the arsenal closet and loaded up my airsoft pistol. Dan immediately decried my actions, saying he didn’t want blood on the floor, a mouse carcass we couldn’t reach, blah blah blah, waah waah waah. Seeing as how I still have to live here for another month and a half, a rotting mouse corpse in the room where all my food is could be unpleasant. I insisted that my plastic death method was better; he insisted that he could make a simple trap that would catch foul rodent.
A contest was borne.
Dan’s Method: Bucket trap.
Dan ran to his computer and began to construct a bucket-trap. There’s a cardboard ramp leading up to the lip of a trash can. At the top of this ramp was perfectly perched an empty toilet paper tube with a solitary chex at the end of it. The idea is that the mouse would climb the ramp hoping for a wonderful bit of chex mix, it would topple the toilet paper tube right into the trash can where it would not be able to escape. What he planned to do with the creature once it was betrashcanned, I don’t quite know.
Kevin’s Method: Plastic Death.
Shoot it once it shows its face in a place I could easily retrieve it.
The first night there was nothing, I stayed up from midnight to 2:30 aiming the gun at the edge of the fridge, unmoving, barely breathing, and completely silent. Once fatigue got the better of me, I hit the sack with an alarm set for 7AM. The morning rolled around and I darted out of bed, grabbed the pistol, and checked Dan’s trap. If he did manage to outwit me with his ridiculous trap, I wasn’t about to let him have the glory. If the mouse WERE in his bucket, I was going to destroy it and reset his trap, proclaiming my superiority, but alas, his bucket was untouched.
Pondering on our intellectual loss, we went about our business for the day, but that night, we started to alter our methods slightly. He added a small dollop of peanut butter to his chex mix bait, having read somewhere that mice absolutely ADORE it. I left a single bran flake in the middle of the floor, figuring that the mouse would opt to go for my easy to reach food than put forth the effort to climb the silly ramp, despite the peanut butter which may await him. We never stopped to consider that this mouse was, in fact, brilliant.
After another 2 motionless unblinking hours, the mouse had still not revealed himself. Failure is not an option. I set my alarm for 7 again and went to sleep.
I awoke to the sun streaming in through my open windows, and immediately sprang up. The sun is up, that means my alarm didn’t go off, that means…….that son of a BITCH. I had forgotten that Dan had to wake up for work at 6:30, a whole half hour to silently deactivate my alarm! I thought I was the only one allowed to play dirty, damnit! I launched out of bed, readying the pistol as I did. My bait was gone, but his trap was unspring, he maintains to this day that it wasn’t him, but I (to this day) do not believe him.
Before long, Dan became indifferent to the mouse, and resigned to just buying a mousetrap. DUMB. As far as I’m concerned, the mouse defeated him, and I was not about to be bested by a FREAKIN MOUSE. This became more of an honor and accomplishment thing for me than actually ridding our house of the creature. If I can catch it with my barbaric methods, then I will finally be able to do something Dan can’t (Since you don’t know Dan, trust me when I say this is a BIG DEAL). Yesterday our senior design group was over our apartment working in the living room when I saw the brown blur streak across the kitchen floor. I snagged the weapon and aimed, it made a mad dash for home base and I panicked. I fired, the round pounded down right in front of it as it turned 180 and bolted back under the fridge.
Trapped. I had it trapped, now it was a waiting game. I sat for an hour, it poked its head out once and only once, I fired and must have missed by a millimeter. My group got pissed at me for wasting time sitting still aiming at the fridge when we had work to do. In all honesty, they were right, but I didn’t know if I would get another chance at this. Eventually I searched the premises, and this Houdini had disappeared! It couldn’t have gone anywhere, there was nowhere for it to go, but it was gone!
April 17, 2008
It’s 2 in the morning, and I’m about to head to bed, but I want a drink first. As I walk into the kitchen, it’s sitting right on the counter. RIGHT ON THE COUNTER! I had the gun, it wasn’t moving, and I stared at it for a good 5 minutes, it staring back at me. That son of a bitch, it was climbing the rack thing on the back side of the fridge like a ladder to get at the crumbs under the toaster! But it was on my counter, I didn’t want to shoot the damn thing on the place where I cook food! The floor was one thing, it was moppable, but if I splattered mouse bits over the place where I prepare food, I’d never be able to get that thought out of my head, no matter the amount of cleaning supplies. I grabbed an empty can, readying to trap it under the can and then dispose of it outside, but it took off as soon as it saw the can in my hand. It was under the fridge, I could see it, another trap situation. I couldn’t reach it, if I had shot it, I’d have smelly mouse carcass stinking up the joint. For 45 minutes I waited for it to come out. Enough is enough, I put down the gun and grabbed the sides of the fridge and as I braced my feet agaHOLY SHIT THERE IT GOES! I put the gun down for approximately 3 seconds and it makes a break for it! Who knew that a mouse could be so lucky….
Luck runs out.
My patience does not.
April 17, 2008.
After spending all day on campus, I come home to see that I had been superceded. Mouse traps, two of them. I did put a lot of time into waiting for this mouse, but here is a machine designed for that very purpose. I didn’t give up though, my plan was that as soon as Dan went to bed, I’d move the traps or put Tupperware over them to disable them and then start my stakeout. He’s always been seen past 10 PM, so for now I didn’t have anything to worry about. That us, until I hear the telltale SNAP come from the kitchen. No. It couldn’t be…. I sprinted into the kitchen and saw the trap upside down, and the mouse sitting unharmed next to it. My GOD this mouse is smart, how did he do that?! He was just sitting there, not moving, he must have been traumatized by his near death experience. Too bad he was too busy concentrated on his close call and not on the airsoft mk23 aimed right at him.
And that was it. In a pull of the finger and a (surprisingly large) splatter of blood, Der Maus was destroyed. I did it; after all that waiting what finally let me destroy it was my rival-hunter’s trap! Goodbye Maus, you were a worthy adversary. I fully expect you to be reincarnated as a man with a driving desire to murder me.
I’ll be waiting. |
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| Backwards crappy day |
[Mar. 19th, 2008|11:13 pm] |
I'm inspired by all you guys posting on this thing again, I always checked it every couple of days anyway, but I never really had anything good to write. Well today was kind of cool, cool enough to share with you guys.
Normally the weather heavily dictates my mood, I'm at a loss to explain it. If it's rainy and crappy out, chances are I'm gonna have a crappy day. If it's sunny and beautiful outside, I'm pretty sure getting hit by a truck couldn't bring me down, that said, today was a rainy crappy foggy stupid day. I got in the car with my roommate to go work on senior design project stuff, and I keep my sunglasses on the passenger seat. He sits down and just flicks them out of the way. Thing is, they somehow manage to land halfway on my face, like that youtube video where they throw the sunglasses and the guy catches it with his face! See, stupid little things like that are amazing to me.
We then are waiting at the corner to cross the street, and there's some hearse coming along. As it passes, we realize yeah, it is a hearse, but not a normal one... It's a PLUMBER vehicle, instead of a big van with their plumbing logo and stuff, these guys had a HEARSE! Their slogan...?
"Our prices will kill ya!"
I almost fell into the street laughing.
I can't remember what the other story was, but I'll let you know when I do find it. |
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| him and I |
[Dec. 18th, 2007|11:32 pm] |
he is who I want to be but can't
he loves the cold
he wears combat boots everywhere
he smokes cigars
he drinks vodka out of a bullet casing
he has had vodka that comes in an artillery shell
he knows about guns
he plays with knives
he creates beautiful things that destroy
he daydreams about being violently heroic
he wants a glorious death
he doesn't have to say much
he copes with everything through violence
he wants what I want, to be the last great destroyer
he is confident in ways and places I would never be
he has recieved more attention and recognition in his brief surfacings than I have in my entire collegiate life
he has a terrifying fondness for classical music in a way that Hannibal Lecter makes liking classical music scary
he takes chances and is reckless, and it has yet to fail him once
and I am jealous of him. Maybe if I were him I could be man enough to do all the things in my head. |
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| WAR-kend |
[Sep. 26th, 2007|11:09 pm] |
I'm about to embark on an epic weekend of war. If I make it to Monday, I'll be covered in welts, still be picking the plastic BBs out of my skin, and exhausted, but damn... I'll be smiling.
Saturday - Gear up and head out for my first dive into paintball. I'll be escorted by the mighty Hans. Seriously, look at that guy, he could probably wipe out a whole OPFOR platoon on his own. I hear paintball really kicks your ass, and I'm no model warrior, so I expect to get shot a LOT.
Saturday night - To keep the manmentum (yeah, I spelled it that way on purpose) going - drink Nikolai Vodka out of a real big ass bullet casing, courtesy of THE ideal male, Bronne Bruzgo. I got it from him right off the actual chain it was attached to, and he got THAT right off a freakin destroyer, yeah, the warship.
Sunday - Ship out at something like 5AM to drive to Harrisburg and wage war in airsoft. I've spent every free minute of the past two weeks in the machine shop completely rebuilding and transforming my AK-47 into a completely different gun entirely. That monster will make its debut, and hopefully tear up the 100+ enemies that are signed up to be there. Yeah, a 200 person airsoft battle, we have an ENTIRE paintball field to ourselves. I am excited.
I feel like I should fit watching "300" in there somewhere just to completely go over the top.
BRING IT ON. |
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| Suck vs cool |
[Sep. 9th, 2007|01:22 am] |
Yeah, time for another rousing edition of suck vs awesome. It should be noted before this rant begins that I have become a world class curmudgeon, and I'm a mere stone's throw away from telling those 'damn kids' to get off my lawn, or to turn down their loud music.
SUCK
Driving
- People who are in a HUGE rush to pull out in that way-too-small space between you and the car in front of you, but then they proceed to go 10 under the speed limit, what happened to the rush?
- Drunk drivers, I hate them.
- People who drive with their high-beams on
- Those freakin Q-beams, the REALLY REALLY bright headlights that are always aimed up too high
- Headlights on SUV's that shine RIGHT THE HELL IN my back window, it's like somebody with a spotlight just sitting on my trunk
- Tailgaters, yeah, I'm that ass that slows down. Thing is, I drive a stickshift, so I can just engine break and they'll never see my tail lights go on.
- People who don't use turn signals
- Generally, people with really fancy cars in this area that do ALL of the above.
Otherwise
- Teachers who know what they're doing, but have no idea how to communicate it to other people, and wonder why half of the class is comprised of people who previously failed it.
- Running out of lead in my pencil
- Doing awesome in guitar hero and turning on star power, and just as you do, you flub up and kill your awesome x8 multiplier
- When the screws you're building your bed with are a quarter-inch too short so you have to wait until the next day to get new screws, all the while for the past week you've been dragging a mattress into the living room and sleeping on the floor
- PEOPLE WHO BREAK INTO MY CAR AND STEAL MY IPOD.
Alright, that's enough depressing stuff, let's get to the goods.
COOL
- Randomly having the same amount of hot dogs as hot dog buns
- Remembering you totally have leftovers from Chili's in the vegetable crisper
- When something you sort of went out on a limb for works like a charm (built a bunch of crazy lights for my room, my roomie sat there with the fire extinguisher and the fuse box open, convinced that I'd either kill myself, start an electrical fire, or kill the fuses. I did zero of them.)
- Making monster faces and noises with the little kids in the booth behind you at Chili's
- Hitting up the ice cream place and not getting "Chubby hubby," but "Spouse like a house"
- Making tons of yellow lights while driving
- Thinking about a song and then it comes on the radio
- Seeing people you know while driving around
- Finding the song you've been looking for for years
- Making the impossible and ridiculous shot in billiards and CALLING it beforehand
- When the first two socks you pick up actually match
- Commercials for sonic, I love them
- The slowskys ("Push it real good!)
- Really really long beethoven songs, and the looks you get as you drive around blasting them
- Being able to laugh hysterically at Dumb and Dumber, which is still my favorite movie
- The making of a Metal Gear Solid movie with Christian Bale as Solid Snake
- Hearing from somebody you haven't heard from in forever (It's always a really nice surprise since I lost all my numbers - 'oh, I wonder whose number this is...!')
- Having TOO many good movies on TV
- Waking up like 1 minute before the alarm goes off
- Pushing through the huge crowds of freshman that don't understand that narrow hallways are bad places to stop and have conversations by just going "Move! SPARTA." and putting your foot through the gap between people and pushing them apart.
- The Japanese game show "Silent Library," go look it up on youtube, you will NOT be disappointed.
- The thought that Jeska has a secret underground lair where she lives. Batcave anybody?
Okay, that's about all I can muster right now, hope you came out of it feeling alright, the cool is always way better than the suck anyway. |
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| Compilation |
[Jun. 22nd, 2007|08:54 am] |
Here's a bunch of things that don't constitute being long enough or interesting enough to warrant their own posts. Instead, I've just put them all together in a big stew of stuff.
Weird things that I do all the time:
-Laugh every time I see a truck that says "ASPLUNDH" on it, because in my head, it sounds like "Ass-Plunduh!" and then "Ass plunder."
-Laugh EVERY time I see a certain 18-wheeler that says "A. Duie Pyle" on the back. Seriously, whoever thought of naming a company that AND having the guts to go through with it deserves a pat on the back.
-Whenever I have a blow-pop, I take wrapper off the candy part, but leave it on the stick, because it looks like a superhero's cape.
-When I sleep at home, I lay on one pillow and put another one on my head, so I'm like the cream filling in an oreo made of pillows. I bet that'd look pretty funny if someone came in while I was sleeping, it'd just look like a mussed up bed.
-I'm always biting down, always. It looks like I'm chewing or something. It's just an unconscious nervous habit I suppose, only I do it all the time, and not just when I'm nervous.
-When left home alone, where I guess I'm supposed to dance around in my underwear to Old Time Rock and Roll by Bob Seger, instead I get decked out in all my camo, vests, holsters and tactical vests and "infiltrate" my house several times with airsoft guns. Sometimes I'll set up cardboard boxes here and there as something I can shoot at. But before I do all of this, I close the windows, nothing would ruin a good infiltration like your neighbors calling the cops, or worse, their son (He's a nationally ranked marskman, so I'd be pretty F'd.) |
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| Cool vs suck |
[Jun. 7th, 2007|09:52 am] |
It's time for another set of cool vs suck lists, feel free to add your own:
Suck:
-Traffic for no apparent reason (No accidents, no construction) that just suddenly lets up (ALSO for no apparent reason)
-Those guys that try to make a left onto a crowded road, but instead just end up sitting sidways in your lane.
-Those folks that, while everybody is merging, FLIES up the side in that like 4 foot wide and shrinking lane, just to get another 30 feet ahead of you.
-Being broke, 'nuff said
-Being just far enough away from home to not be able to turn around and go "Dangit, I forgot my pencil!"
Cool:
-Embracing my inner nerd by playing a tabletop game with Bronne, and LIKING it. We're talkin rolling like 6 die at a time here, people, the big leagues
-Having a job that I actually like
-Being the lamest 21 year old ever. You know, I've been 21 for some 6 months and I haven't been to a bar. Oh well, just as well, I'm broke anyway, and I'd much rather spend moneys on fun things than on booze.
-Seeing the same Futurama episode two nights in a row and STILL laughing out loud at it.
-When you're on the highway (In my case, the turnpike) and there's one of those big concrete medians that you can't see over, but sometimes you see a bike on somebody's roof go past, and it's just the right height so that it actually looks like a bicycle is riding the other way on the highway.
-Going "Man, this air conditioning sucks" and just driving with the windows down instead.
-Uh, rice krispie treats?!
-The fact that my friend Heinz is amazing behind a barbecue, so much so that when we go over peoples' houses, their parents ask HIM to grill stuff up for them. Also, Heinz looks like Mr. Clean.
-Using the last 10 seconds of my phone battery to call up Jeska at her work and make funny voices. She ALWAYS knows it's me, though!
Sucky things that LEAD to cool things
-Losing my sunglasses, then while eating in my car, dropping my hot pocket. When I reach down to pick up the hot pocket, oh HEY, there are my sunglasses, aweseome.
-Getting stuck behind a wide car that's moving slow, then getting to yell a phrase that Kelly once yelled when we got stuck behind a slow wide car - "Ugh, you are SO slow and SO FAT!"
-Working a 9-5, but getting paid for a 9-3, but in the end, we get a free trip to Orlando in the beginning of August.
-Losing the little pin thingie that keeps the strap on my clog in place, but then making a new one out of a paper clip that works even better.
-This morning, I got stuck behind a biiiggggg dump truck, and when he would hit the gas, these huge plumes of black smoke would shoot out the side of the bottom of his truck, I guess that's where his exhaust was. But seriously, it looked like a volcano or something. So this asshat driver is swerving through traffic, riding the shoulder, all those things that I hate, and he pulls up next to this truck JUST as he hits the gas, and it shoots all this black smoke right into his car. I almost peed myself it was so awesome. In my mind the guy looks like Wile. E. Coyote when an ACME bomb goes off in his face, all black and swept back, ya know?
-Waking up early, but then learning that legends of the hidden temple is on at that time on Nickelodeon.
So, all in all, stuff is pretty awesome.
-KB |
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| Keep those tires warm |
[May. 24th, 2007|04:15 pm] |
I really hate traffic. A whole lot. A handful of you out there even know what a joy it is to drive in traffic with a manual transmission. Now, for those of you who have driven with me whilst stuck in traffic, you know that I get superduper bored, and one of the things I do is swerve from side to side in my lane. In my mind, my car is swimming like a shark, only this shark is green with wheels. Oh yeah, on land too, I guess that's important.
So the other day, there is a 10-mile backup on the PA Turnpike for no reason other than everybody SUDDENLY discovering their brake pedals simultaneously, and being enamored with their latest unearthing, they all decided to test it out repeatedly. So there I am, windows down, BLARING Willie Nelson, swerving around in my lane like a freakin nutcase. This bearded fella pulls up next to me and leans out his window. This is the part of the story where I crap my pants thinking this dude is about to tear my head off for cutting into his lane or something. I was wrong, though. Instead, he looks at me, and yells "GOOD IDEA! Gotta keep the tires warm! Check out my Dale Earnhardt sticker!"
I was completely stymied, and I yelled back the only thing that came to my mind - "We're back to GREEN FLAG RACIN'!" He must have gotten a kick out of that, because he starts swerving around in his lane too. Thing is, he must have been with his family or something going on vacation, traveling in a car-convoy, and his pickup was in the lead. About 6 cars behind the pickup start swerving around, too! It must have looked AMAZING from somebody behind us, 8 cars just scooting back and forth with "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW" yelled every 5 seconds from somebody in the swerve-train.
Summer is off to a good start.
-KB |
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| Didja miss me? |
[May. 11th, 2007|02:22 am] |
Dang, when's the last time I wrote in here? I check it as frequently as I always have, but now I'm coming back to ask you guys a question:
Does anybody else get REALLY depressed when they are leaving someplace? Apparently one of my "flaws" that I've found out is that I get really attatched to places very quickly and get really upset when I have to go. Vacation at Lake George, New York, 1 week, spend the first hour of the ride home just envisioning us turning back around. Trips to Florida where I stayed at generous peoples' homes? DEVASTATING! That was like a bunch of awful awful depart-depressions in one week, lost it several times on both trips.
I feel like it's because when I think backwards, I remember only the really good things, but I'm terrified that I'll forget them. I'm not really a person who either takes or is in a ton of pictures, I don't keep a journal, I don't really have anything to go on other than the stories that come out of something. The example right now is my dorm, everybody else is gone, and campus is like a ghost town. As much as I know the past school year was defined by almost failing out of engineering and working constantly, the things I remember are things like when my friend climbed through my window unexpectedly (Mind you, we live on the 2nd floor. We still don't know how he did it.). Stuff like that, dig?
But seriously, is this just me? I feel kinda ridiculous.
And I want to come back and make brownies with you some more.
-KB
(I'll get back on my "using LJ as a pedestal to spin wicked tales" soon, I promise. I've got a lot.) |
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| The sole supporter of snail mail |
[Sep. 22nd, 2006|07:05 pm] |
Hey, I know a lot of people moved around this year, dorms, states, colleges, all that stuff. It's great, right? Wrong!, because NOW I don't know where to send my LETTERS to, AND I lost my address book. SO, could you (This is anybody out there) email me your mailing address? Kevin.bushek@villanova.edu is my email addy, easy to remember, ya?
I'll have to get on here and do a real update for now, but I'm busy attempting to make food, let's see how this one turns out. Let's just say I don't have the best track record with cooking.
-KB |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 24th, 2006|10:52 pm] |
The beach.
It’s great, sand, sun, and seagulls. Once upon a July 4th weekend in Wildwood, NJ, our group was sitting on the beach, just relaxing. One of the girls (Gina?) brought up an old game they used to play, to teach seagulls not to eat human food. They place a potato chip in the sand, and hurl sandals at the poor, defenseless seagulls who try to fly down and eat it. Of course, once a certain seagull, the day before, tried to eat a sausage sandwich right out of my hand, my sympathy for them faded faster than Lou Bega, Nobody messes with my sausage. That’s right, I said it.
So I joined in the “sport of kings.” If you don’t know, my sandals are akin to bricks in more ways than one. I think the only defining difference between the two is that my sandals have straps. But that’s it. Another quick fact about me- I can’t throw worth a damn. I can snipe with a Frisbee, but give me something like a ball and it triggers some sort of mental retardation in me. So I’m blasting these 10 lb sandals from my “Soviet cannon arm,” throwing up a lot of sand, but no seagulls. The girls managed to hit a few, but then again, their girly sandals are small and light, I didn’t hit a damn one though.
Until, that is, until fate intervened.
Another round from the commie-cannon is fired, and it is obvious that I missed by no less than 5 feet as soon as it left my hand. This would be about the time that the seagull was scared off the ground by one of the girls’ sandals, it took off blindly, unaware of the size 10 doom that was bearing down on it. An explosion of feathers and girls’ screams occurred in slow-motion before my eyes, and I watched a bird-shaped mass drop from the sky.
A dead bird-shaped mass.
Keeping these destroyers lashed to my feet apparently keeps their death dealing power in check, but now they were unleashed, and it had not been 5 minutes before they claimed their first casualty. This is when an approximately 80 year old woman comes over, and with compassion and sorrow in her voice, says “What happened?” Me, capitalizing on the fact that a stranger will rarely ask you to repeat something for fear of looking like an ass, said “Well I veahowitwauhdubandityeah” with a very concerned look on my face. It did the trick. All that grandmotherly compassion was thrown aside in the blink of an eye as the woman’s face twisted into an evil, disfigured grimace and she, in a voice stereotypically like a witch’s, said “Good, I hate those bastards.” The sandals were at work again, severing all ties to everything rational and good in the people they affected. I decided that, in order to prevent an apocalypse stemming from my sandals from beginning right there on the Jersey coast, it would be best for me to slink far, far away from this attention-drawing birdcorpse. Slink away, boys, slink away. |
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| The obvious title would give it away |
[Jun. 14th, 2006|12:41 am] |
I FINALLY CAUGHT A LIZARD.
For those of you who don't know, I have been trying to cath a Floridian lizard for YEARS. Ever since I first laid eyes on those little critters, I've been trying to catch one, and that's been going on for some 4 years? Might even be longer, nobody's really sure. At any rate, I have been the ONLY person unable to catch one. I saw people just walk up to them and grab them, and there I am, using every trick short of a ghillie suit, and they ALWAYS get away.
Then one fateful week in the beginning of summer 2006, I came to Florida, and suffered a solid week of attempted lizard-catches (and subsequent failures), I was severely discouraged. I had been routinely making the rounds on Jeska's screened in back patio, here and there taking swipes at the lizards within my reach. Then, on the very last day, mere HOURS before I was scheduled to board a plane bound for North Carolina (and later, Philadelphia), I spotted one. It was sitting on a column, at the base of which lay a few potted plants, so I knew that it couldn't easily escape. The tradeoff was this was a smaller lizard, which, as TV has taught me, means that it was super agile and FAST. So I go outside with Jeska and Hershey, and I start the hunt.
Around and around the pillar I go, lifting potted plants, corraling the green menace so that it can't get up too high. So there I am, chasing it around a pillar on my hands and knees, and I FINALLY get it! I trap it under my hands, and in my split-second celebration, the little bugger slips through a crack in my fingers! He takes off underneath me, pauses for a second on my foot, and disappears. Dangit, it darted under a big unmovable heavy locker thing, I blew it.
However....
I get this strange notion that it might not BE under that locker. I tell Jeska that I'll be right back, and I go into the bathroom. Now, keep reading, it's not what you think. This is the part where I take off my pants. Hey, better safe than sorry, and I didn't see it go under the locker with my own eyes, that's only what I figured happened. So I shake out my pants a few times, and nothing, whew. I put my leg back in my pants, and flop.
A LIZARD FALLS OUT OF MY FREAKIN PANTS.
I'm caught between a mix of surprise, embarassment, and elation that now I can finally catch it! The door is shut, so it has nowhere to run, so I manage to corner the thing and grab it. Now, I want to yell to Jeska to come look at the lizard that was in my pants, but then I realized the obvious implications... I decided to re-pantsify, which I can tell you now with complete certainty, is near impossible. One handed-repantsing is a feat in itself, but then when you have a belt to deal with, and only one hand to deal with it with, you're up a creek. So I run out to Jeska, holding up my pants with a lizard in my hand (you sickos.), and then I had her hold it while I fixed my belt (Wow, I, uh, kinda wish there was a better way to say all that?). I got some pictures, too, to prove that I did, indeed, catch a lizard, after half a decade of trying. I'll get back to you with those pictures, they're on a different compy. |
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| #1 with a bullet, I'm a powerpack |
[Jun. 5th, 2006|09:45 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | ACDC - back in black | ] |
I know I haven't updated this thing in ages, so you can count on a metric assload of updates from me in the near future, there is much to be told. But I don't just want to DIVE right back into things, but I have been thinking of a few little things that i KNOW other people do, so I'm not crazy, and I want to see if you guys/girls do them, too.
The Driver's Bond
This one was discussed in the car with Noah, Katy, and Katie on the trek from Jamlando to Fort Lauderdale, and was confirmed in all cases. Do you ever, while driving, just sort of bond with a complete stranger? It's like a convoy, only lacking CB radio. When you're on a long trip on one big road, and you find yourself following the same people for a long time, you sort of feel connected to them somehow. You're part of their wagon-train, (or they, part of yours) and you feel sort of disappointed when one of them turns into a rest stop, or gets stuck behind a slow car. Either way, you feel like you know these people, even though... you don't.
Measurements
I don't know if anybody else does this, but if there's a measurement that's dependant on something else, I just skip the middle step. Now, I know that made zero sense, but let me explain. Let's say I make $10/hr at work, and I see a CD that costs $20, instead of saying "Hm, that's twenty dollars," my mind immediately says "Hm, that's two hours of work." I sort of rationalize my craziness with that "Time is money" saying. I measure distance in gas tanks for my car, I measure weight in belt loops and plane rides in CD lengths. Please tell me I'm not the only one that does this.
One last thing, my current job is to fix AP tests, and Logan Altman, you forgot to bubble in your birth year on your APCalcBC test. Don't worry, I fixed it for you, that's what I do for a job. I got a few of you guys, I got Harrison's and Kelly's, too. It's a shame you guys were so dilligent in filling in those bubbles, if you had made a mistake in filling in the "which test you took" bubble, I would have been able to tell you how well you did. I had to do a double-take when these names would come up, because out of the 50,000 we all have in que, I manage to get the people that I know. Lake Highland, by the way, you guys were the best batch I've had yet, almost zero errors, not like some other schools in FL (Oviedo? I know it's down there, but does it ring a bell?) that didn't fill in ANY of the bubbles at all... |
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therussianfunk's journal
