I am a big dork

Lots of stuff has happened in the past few months that made me hate computers a lot less, so here I am posting. Long story short, I got even dorkier and I moved away in order to start fresh. Things I’ve noticed since I’ve been in my new home:

• It’s hot. The other day I didn’t leave the home because I knew I’d get soaked in sweat. The next day I brought myself back down to reality and said “That’s absurd. Sure, I’ll sweat a little, but it can’t be that bad. WRONG. I took a 15 minute walk and spent the next 3 hours waiting for my shirt to dry. That can’t be healthy.
• Alcohol laws are weird. You can’t buy liquor and beer in the same store. Not that I’m concerned with that because I’m a goddamn saint and never touch that devil’s liquid.
• I got carded trying to buy a lighter. I had a four day old beard and got carded buying a lighter. Apparently I need to grow my beard longer because I still get carded for R-rated movies. Not alcohol, though, as I’m a goddamn saint and never drink.
• After spending five minutes typing this, I’ve realized I hate computers and don’t want to type anymore. It’ll probably be another six months until I update, but hopefully not. Everyone start doing interesting things so I can write about how you’re all dorks and I’m normal, not the other way around. Thanks.

Now I’m going to walk home and take my fourteenth shower of the day. If it were up to me, I’d live in the shower like Kramer from Seinfeld but with more racism.

Smooches, my babies!

Not as cute as it sounds now, is it?

Remember those “Choose your own adventure” books when you were a kid? Well, they finally caught up with both technology and your aging interests. This past weekend I got Harold and Kumar 2 on my Netflix in HD and it was rad. The movie itself was average, but the technology contained within these Blu-Ray discs is amazing. Similar to those novelty books, the DVD has a feature to choose what the characters will do in the movie. For example, you can choose for Kumar to not smoke weed in the plane thus forcing a completely different ending to the movie. Now, that probably doesn’t sound too awesome yet. In fact, I’m pretty sure regular DVDs have this feature. Here’s where it gets amazing. If you’ve seen the movie, you know there’s a “bottomless scene” where all the girls at the party walk around completely naked from the waist down. That is awesome in of itself, but now there’s an option in the “choose your own movie” feature to switch the scene from bottomless to topless. Now, instead of all the women being naked from the waist down, they are now naked from the waist up. It’s a breakthrough in techonlogy and pretty much the greatest thing ever developed by mankind.

Last week, for some odd reason, I decided I wasn’t going to shave for an undetermined amount of time. Normally, I can’t go more than four days without a shave and I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned before that I’m a hairy beast. The longest I’ve gone without shaving is about six weeks in order to grow a mustache for Mustache March at work a year ago. I grew a full beard and then, on the last day of March, I shaved off everything but the hair on my upper lip. So great was the mustache that it won me an award for Most Muchacho. It was an incredibly uncomfortable experience and I’m not exactly sure why I’m repeating it again. In addition to my current 10 day old beard that actually looks a month old, I also am in the early stages of needing a haircut. My hair is incredibly curly and I need regular haircuts more often than the average person. I’ve gotten used to the normal opening conversation while getting a haircut:

Hair stylist: Wow, it must have been a long time since you’ve had your last haircut!

Me: No, it’s been about there weeks since my last one

Hair stylist: Three weeks!??!? Your hair grows fast! Do you want it short?

Me: Yes, very short please.

Without fail, they always end up cutting my hair less than short and I have to tell them to take more off. However, I digress. This morning I rode my bike in to work. I don’t like to walk into work with sweaty clothes, so I usually wear a wife beater while riding my bike and then change into my dry work shirt when I arrive. On Mondays I usually wake up early and do laundry, but I overslept and decided to to it when I got back from work. I only had one white shirt and one black button up shirt, so I crammed them both in a plastic bag and put them in my backpack. When I arrived at work, I pulled my bike into the bike rack to lock it. A bike had fallen to it’s side so I picked it up to move it. What I didn’t realize was the the bike had been there for weeks or even months, so it was covered in dust and gunk. My hands were covered in it, so after locked up my bike I made my way to the bathrooms to clean up. I washed my hands and pulled out the plastic bag with my clean clothes. I looked in the mirror and noticed my hair was all over the place, so I decided to wet it down and fix it. It was then that I realized that I looked like homeless guy. I was pretty sure someone was going to walk in an accuse me of sleeping in one of the offices at work. To top it all off, I bought one of those straw fedoras that make me look like more of a cool bum than a homeless guy.

Let this be a warning to those of you who decide to sell your bread on the West side of town:

 

I have never met either of these people but I can tell you for a fact that they are two of the greatest individuals ever to walk this earth. These two people once lived in my apartment before I moved in and they have both forgot to change their mailing address. Today I was out getting my mail and came across the greatest gifts and young man can ever receive in his life. Today I have received not one, but TWO Victoria’s Secret catalogs. Yes, these two generous ladies have decided to leave their mailing addresses as is so that I may reap the glory. I am so grateful that I am considering paying Veronica Reyes phone bill which was sent to my address long before I even found this apartment. And kudos to the fine corporation fo Victoria’s Secret, who decided to send out a swimsuit catalog a week into January. This is probably the greatest day ever.

I believe in karma. It scares me because I belive what goes around comes around and it sucks knowing you’ll get your just desserts one day but you don’t know when. I’m pretty sure I have a lot of karmic debts that need to be collected, but I can thankfully cross this one off my list because it’s now out of the way. You might remember this post. Shameful, I know, but what’s done is done. Well, a few days ago I was taking some pictures of my spiders. While hooking up the camera to the computer and loading them my hard drive, I realized I left the lid off one of the spider’s jars. I looked inside and he was gone! I panicked and sat back down in my chair to think. The lid was off for maybe three minutes, tops, and he wasn’t on the desk where the jar was. I sat in fear, thinking he was crawling on my neck, up my leg, or even on my hair. The psycological impact was devastating and I was ready to curl up in a ball on my bed, but then I figured that he might have already made his way onto my bed, expecting for me to do exactly that. I am quite predictable, after all. I decided to look up a new place on the Internet, because I could obviously no longer stay in this apartment. I turned to face the computer, and behold! He was crawling on the wall behind it! After spending a good chunk of time trying to put him back in his jar, I finally succeeded. I am considering getting rid of the spiders, but I think they are too smart now. I think if I dumped them outside, they would just bide their time until they were big enough and then pounce on me when I least expected it.

One of the greatest pleasures in my life is brushing my teeth. Actually, it is THE greatest pleasure. Nothing beats clean, fresh teeth. When my mouth gets all gunky after a long day, I can’t wait to get home and remove the nasty germs, tarter, and once delicious food remnants that I spent my day cramming into my mouth. And nothing was better than waking up in the morning with bad breath that is banished before my daily routines. Alas, this is no more–at least for the time being. Whenever I am ready to buy another tube of toothpaste, I usually become quite adventurous. I tend to buy different flavors each time, or one that does something cool, like target plaque more than others. Until now, my toothpaste choices were short of genius. This time, however, I’ve made a grave error. My brand of choice is Crest and this time around I picked up a new “Pro-Health Night” toothpaste. Great, it works during the night! I don’t mind that. What I do mind is the horrid after taste it leaves in your mouth. Instead of pure, minty fresh breath that you normally get, now you get somewhat minty breath with the accompanying taste of a hangover. Even after a night of hard drinking, my normal toothpaste manages to block out some of the bad memories of the night before. This new toothpaste seems to be punishing me for my past sins, as well as the ones I have not yet commmited. Unfortunately, I’m too much of a cheap and lazy punk to go buy new toothpaste, so it looks like I’ll have to ride this one out for a few more weeks longer. Unless you like going through your day feeling like you licked a storm drain, avoid this toothpaste:

This past week I had a strong, powerful craving for cereal. It started out with a lust for Cinnamon Toast Crunch and progressed onto Reese’s Peanut Butter Cereal and a multitude of many other cereals. I haven’t eaten cereal since the early days of college and haven’t really thought about it since then, but for some reason I decided it was time for a bowl. I finally went to the grocery store after three days of a constant craving and made my way to the cereal aisle. I found my first dark mistress: Cinnamon Toast Crunch. They only had those big, huge boxes that parents buy when they don’t want to cook for their kids but feel too guilty attaching a feedbag of sugar to their faces. I was ready to grab my box and head to the checkout lane when I noticed the price: $5.68. That much for a box of air with some cereal in it? Screw that! I’m cheaper than cheap and I think I can make better use of that $5.68, like buying two 40 oz bottles of beer. After all, Trix are for kids and I’m a full grown, responsible adult now. This weekend you’ll find me in my boxers, watching Spiderman, drinking beer, and not eating cereal. Being an adult is the best.

A while back you may remember the spider that I had at work. It became a habit of opening the lid of the jam jar that he lived in to try and make him do something fun. I was hoping I could train my spider to jump or play fetch or maim and kill on command. Unfortunately, the only thing he managed to do when I opened up the jar was hide in the hole he had dug in the dirt and not come out for a day or two. One friday I left the jam jar open by accident and when I came back the next Monday he had escaped to pure freedom. I knew he had to still be in the room since he was so small but despite my effforts he was nowhere to be found. The only other person who knew he had escaped was my coworker who shared the same room with me who, while a bit disturbed and angry with my carelessness, was still cool. Now here comes the dark secret. Two weeks later they moved us to a new office next door and the VP of the company took over our old one. I didn’t have the hear to tell him that there was a baby tarantula running rampant in his office while he worked. The weeks turned into months and while I was once again moved to a new office the VP remained in the tarantula room. The VP was a really cool guy who’d I talk to about photography and other random stuff but I didn’t have the heart to tell him about the spider. There was also bug infestation during this period and I was sure the spider was snacking happily. The spider is now a year old and probably huge. I have since left that company and chatted with the VP occasionally since then but I still have not told anyone there truth about the spider. So now you all know my secret. I hope you don’t think less of me now. Please forgive me: