lessfamousjesus

You, dear reader, are reading my first entry as a Brooklynite. That's right baby. Now I can say things like "Brooklyn what" and call it 'Brook-non' and be totally freakin' justified. Nice place really, gonna need some getting used to, like any place. Like Timmy says: I'll probably have to tool up and exert my presence on the block. Man wouldn't it be cool if I ran my own drug syndicate? Not like Scarface style, more like that show "The Wire". Driving around in an Escalade with a couple burners in the glove compartment, walking up in the club with my muscle, a bottle of Henny waiting for me everywhere I go. Yeah, that'd be pretty tight. I know what you're thinking. And the answer is yes. I am for real. Very real.
So anyway. It's really strange being back in the city after leaving a couple days ago. Today I found myself meandering around "campus" before work. I was sitting in the familiar place of Washington Square Park, half expecting to meet one of my friends there. Alas, I was all alone. I feel like the last surviving Haydener in all of New York. Course that's totally untrue, but that's how it feels. All of my friends are elsewhere for now, but everything moves as it should and we'll all be together soon enough. New York or otherwise. Ah well. So it goes.

Hate to be that guy. But 11 FREAKIN DAYS TIL EUROPE THATS RIGHT BITCH THATS RIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT.

Adios.

PS (Viva La 2514. Your spirit will never die)

SO. Halfway done with college. 2 years down, 2 years to go. No other words can fit the bill but "wow." I see a lot of friends sad over this fact, and a lesser, but still significant, amount of friends eager to move forwards with this whole shebang. Me? I don't know, I don't think I can classify my feelings towards this realization of time's passage as either in favor of it nor against it. Just taking it in as it comes bit by bit seems to work out for me right now.

I look back on last year, and call it the best year of my life. Recently, I've been adding thus far to the end of the latter statement. There's no fucking way I've reached my peak yet, absolutely no way will I allow the rest of my life be some kind of steady decline from freshman year of college. And then I realize that this year hasn't been half bad either, it's certainly been an educating experience. Its been a different kind of happy. But happy nonetheless.

And the funniest part about all this?

Things are only looking up. I find myself planning things I will be doing with myself in the future, and while it's not ripping grav bongs nightly in room 318 (313, 301b, 213 etc. etc.) of Hayden, it ain't gonna be too shabby. Shouldn't I be more freaked out that I'm in total control as to where my life goes? C'mon are you serious? This is still the person who gets half a stock at the release of a new Star Wars, the person who has yet to learn how to iron clothes for Chrissakes..

Damn. Look at that, a whole serious entry.

Just a thought. What would you do if you met someone who was exactly like you? A doppleganger if you will. Me personally? I would do everything in my power to destroy it. Highlander style. There can be only one, bitch. Apparently ancient cultures believed in these things, and you know what, I'm not one to argue with time-honored traditions. I mean really, how messed up would that be if you met someone that had every single trait you had. You'd basically objectively be seeing yourself, and more than likely, you'd hate what you see in front of you. Not to mention all the thoughts that'd be spinning around your head about existence and uniqueness and such. Yes, fighting to the death in an epic struggle would be the only way. I swear to Christ I'm not high right now.

Also, I've been posing one of the most difficult questions known to man to most of my friends recently, causing great debate: "What would you rather be, a Pirate or a Ninja?"

My answer would be a ninja. And here's why. First of all there's the intelligence factor. Ninjas are smart, calculating, patient people. While pirates are just silly drunken buffoons that play with parrots. Sure pirates loot and plunder, but ninjas probably do as well. They just do a better job of hiding it. As for the whole raping factor..ninjas don't need to rape they probably have all the ass they want at their beck and call. Chicks dig the stealth. The whole style factor is a major one for me too. Saying "Yarr" all the time just isn't my thing. Neither are ribbons in my hair, eye makeup, multiple piercings, frilly clothes and peg legs. And overall, ninjas would easily win in a fight one on one, no question. Cannons won't help you, neither will all those silly sea-dog songs. Your throat would be cut before you could even say "Avast me hearty" ...what does that even mean anyway? God I hate pirates.

I just looked back on what I just wrote and I realize that I really need help. Normal folk don't think like this (but it'd be cool if they did...c'mon). It's ok though. I'm happy living in my own fantasy world. Helps me sleep better at night.

So I've been getting much flak for not having updated this in a while. Well motherfuckers, it's because I haven't had anything to write. No brilliant ideas, no out of the ordinary occurences, the writing ball just hasn't been rolling lately. So you guys forced me to update. Fine.

Today:

I woke up at around 9:30 after having a cool dream that I can't remember. That really annoyed the piss out of me for about 5 minutes until I sat on the computer and looked at facebook for about 30 minutes. The first song I put on was a Bright Eyes song called "First Day of my Life". I feel a little bit like a pussy admitting that, but fuck you it was 10 am in the morning, I can do a lot worse than Bright Eyes. Like a Dashboard Confessional song. So yeah fuck you, at least it wasn't Dashboard. We had no more milk so I had Dominoe's Pizza for breakfast. It was most sufficient.

I then went to my History of the Universe lecture where I drew planets and swans while intermittently reading the Sound and the Fury. The lecture was about moons or something. The row of um..coeds I usually occupy my viewing time with were not there. Needless to say, I was disappointed.

Then came Italian. I spoke out loud twice when I had to and made jokes to myself at the freshman in the class that looks like he's balding already. Goddamn that's gotta suck. (He sort of has a stutter too, which doesn't really make things any easier for him. God must hate him) Can't figure out if my teacher is gay or not. He's very very Italian though, so I guess it doesn't really matter.

Then came American Literature, riveting stuff really. For the first 30 mins of the lecture I dozed in and out of consciousness. For the rest of the time I was half taking notes about Ralph Waldo Emerson while drawing pictures of stick figures having Matrix-like battles in the columns.

Then I went home. And here we are.

Satisfied? Didn't think so. Feel like you need the last 5 minutes of your life back? That's what you get for fucking rushing me.

So spring break 05 has come and gone. While I didn't spend my time taking luge shots off of the chest of a blonde coed named Brittany, vegging around and being a waste of life for a whole week was rather rejuvenating. Monday was an absolute episode. Let's just say a few of my favorites and I got some food poisoning and tripped the fuck out. Lucky for the rest of society, we were enclosed in one room for the majority of the time, leaving the absurdities and tomfooleries that we wreaked, to ourselves . Some standout quotes from the evening.

"What? Fuck him, how can I help him if he sees evil Jesters when he closes his eyes. What can I do??" -Me on why I couldn't save Ali from evil Jesters

"FUCK YOU!" -Faith to me after being asked what superpower she would most like to have

"Oh what's happening Mike? Can't finish your sentence? People keep interrupting you? SUCKS DOESN'T IT?" Justin's ultimate revenge on Mike

"I made quite a few teachers cry in grade school" -Mike
"What happened was she like 'Why can't you just learn! :*(' - Ali




and on and on and on and on......The whole episode lasted about 8 hours. It was capped off by a walk on the Brooklyn Bridge around sunrise. Despite freezing our collective asses off, the scenery was incredible. There was a flock of birds just circling around the water, except that in our heightened state of awareness, they looked like fucking bats to me. No one else expressed that same feeling, so maybe it was just me. Damnit.

And all that was just only one day. The whole rest of the break was a complete surprise for me. A good surprise obviously. Let's just say I got mine in the end.

"My head hurts" :)

This was inspired by a column I read on ESPN's page 2. Basically I'm just gonna write what I think about anything and everything and pretend that you reading this cares. If you don't you can stop reading it and write your own livejournal about the menial details of your life and see if people appreciate it. That's what I thought, suck it. Here goes..

I believe in the New York Yankees.

I believe that Derek Jeter is the most amazing (note: not talented) baseball player I have ever seen.

I believe the Boston Red Sox deserve a tip of the cap, but to call them saviors, curse-breakers, and heroes is giving them way too much credit. They're just did what teams like the Yankees have done many times over, and what they had failed to do for 86 years. It's like failing senior year of high school over and over again, and when you finally graduate everyone throws a fucking party. (sorry it's still a touchy subject)

I believed OJ Simpson during his trial (it was when I was in 5th grade, and he used to play football, what do you want from me)

I believe Bruce Lee would fuck up anyone ever in a fight.

I believe that if soccer hits it big in the U.S., it will be a glorious time.

I believe that Allen Iverson is the best player (note: not talented) in the NBA.

I believe in karma.

I believe in God...I'm pretty sure.

I believe that Mr. Bush fucked over many people with the whole Iraq thing.

I believe that all their problems are hardly all his fault.

I believe that all our problems are hardly all his fault.

I believe the rest of the world hating us is mostly his fault.

I believe Ann Coulter should shut the fuck up.

I believe Al Franken and Michael Moore should shut the fuck up.

I believe Hunter S. Thompson's death should have gotten more of a reaction from the public (not even ONE tribute on tv)

I believe TV has fucked up the way we think.

I believe I am living proof of that statement.

I believe NYC sucks the life out of you no matter who you are.

I believe theres no better city than NYC anywhere.

I believe that if Paris Hilton wasn't rich she'd be a crackwhore giving $3.00 handjobs for a fix.

I believe that Adriana Lima is fucking gorgeous.

I believe Nirvana is the most overrated band of all time.

I believe The Velvet Underground is the most underrated band of all time.

I believe that there will never be another Hendrix, Morrison or Marley, try as many do, they cannot be recreated.

I believe the Wu-Tang Clan is the greatest rap act of all time.

I believe Nas is the best rapper of all time based solely on Illmatic.

I believe this whole emo thing needs to stop. Music in general is meant to be emotional so stop trying to single yourself out by making up a subcategory and crying all the time.

I believe that you're bored by now and want this to end.

Lived the dream pretty hard today.

After work and my one class, I went and passed out in Washington Sq. Park for like 2 hours, it was pretty damn nice out..a welcome change to freezing my balls off day in and day out. Anyway, it would've been a more pleasant stay, but the most horrible guitar player in the history of fucking decided to practice his craft next to me. At the same time it was one of those car crash type things. I couldn't stop myself to how unbelievably poor the music this guy was making was. The sound was comparable to a 9 year old tard strumming on a Fischer Price guitar. The worst part was that this guy thought he was amazing Billy Ray Cyrus or Raffi or some other obscure mid-90's reference. Deluded people are up pretty high on my list of grievances. He was getting so into it, closing his eyes and swaying his body back and forth. His jiving right leg almost hit me on occasion too. Finally some lady came over to him to tell him to quiet down because it was upsetting her kids. He looked crushed, absolutely dejected. Awesome.

I really tried to hide my smile from him. Ah well, never gonna see him again. Woo.

So. 2514 (my room) had our triumphant 5th party last night in honor of Spanish's bday. A few regulars were missing, but the flavor was the same. Drunken. Things that happened to me throughout the evening

-Got my shirt unbuttoned numerous times

-Got my head rubbed numerous times

-scratched on the turntables a lil bit (i rocked the house. c'mon are you serious?)

-got told i throw a better party than lenny (debatable..)

-didn't drink so much that i threw up (disappointing..as it was our original plan to not stop drinking until we yacked)

-spoke to the RA and the security guard (both enormous douche bags)while drunk and half high

-Ben told the RA that he was a glassblower and that all the bottles on the shelf (the trophy case) were his work and that he was so good at glassblowing that the resemblance between them was uncanny

Finally the party got broken up with myself and 2 other roommates getting written up. First time offense this year though...doesnt mean shit. If anything it just boosts up our street cred. 2514 the renegade party throwers. Still..we really shouldve found a way to incorporate the slip n slide.

Sorry if the titlewas a little too vulgar for you. But then again this is mostly for me. And if that offended you, either A) don't know you or B) you don't know at all to not expect something like "popping this bitch's cherry" to be a casual phrase I just throw around. Anyway, if you are reading this (and are not me) then you must be privileged.

I'm not quite sure this is something that will go that public as of yet.


The Empire State building has shut itself off for the evening, and Pink Floyd's lulling me to bed. Minus the lulling, I'm rather awake-wired even. I'm finding that insomnia is a problem I've had since I was a wee lad. Don't get me wrong, I love sleeping, I do it quite frequently. But there's something about being awake when everyone else is asleep. And it's more than just "alone time". I kind of look at it as a private little club you have with yourself. It's almost like another state of consciousness, I mean think about it: every other person has gone to bed, so the only conversation you can have is with yourself, in your head. You can come up with some scary shit at 4am in the morning when there's no one else around to talk to. But, on the other hand, silence can be cathartic. I find that usually, 4 in the morning can be the most truthful time of the day. Goddamn I'm deep.

on a totally unrelated note, Beck's new album Guero is pretty tight. Spanish folk mixed with country and hip hop- my kind of digs.

well that was random as fuck.

cheers