Monday, September 29, 2008

existential perspective (better look alive)

Existentialism is a philosophical movement which posits that individuals create the meaning and essence of their lives, as opposed to it being created for them by deities or authorities or defined for them by philosophical or theological doctrines. It emerged as a movement in twentieth-century literature and philosophy, foreshadowed most notably by nineteenth-century philosophers Søren Kierkegaard and Friedrich Nietzsche, though it had forerunners in earlier centuries. Fyodor Dostoevsky and Franz Kafka also described existential themes in their literary works.

It took explicit form as a philosophical current in Continental philosophy, first in the work of Martin Heidegger and Karl Jaspers in the 1930s in Germany, and then in the work of Jean-Paul Sartre, Albert Camus, and Simone de Beauvoir in the 1940s and 1950s in France. Their work focused on such themes as "dread, boredom, alienation, the absurd, freedom, commitment, and nothingness" as fundamental to human existence. Walter Kaufmann described existentialism as "The refusal to belong to any school of thought, the repudiation of the adequacy of any body of beliefs whatever, and especially of systems, and a marked dissatisfaction with traditional philosophy as superficial, academic, and remote from life"

Thank you Wikipedia.

Good discussion tonight boys. Y'all should read my blog more often.

Life as a human, very confusing. Life is confusing enough, but putting it in that context only makes things more blurry. Paradoxically, it is the only thing that makes sense; all we have. And if we focus little on meaning, and more on day-to-day (at least for me), life is much simpler.

Perhaps it's the drugs, but life bothers me less now than before. But, more so as before that, when I was ignorant. Yet, it was hardly bliss, seemingly so at the time. Now, in retrospect, possibly, but objects appear closer in the mirror, so, ya know....

It breaks!

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Well, as promised, I did blog yestereve/early AM Saturday. I tried to be more positive with my little coded semi-rants/prose/crazy stream of consciousness stuff.

Just hope no newcomers are reading the first couple of entries and giving up on the blog altogether.


Dear Newcomers,

Stick with me. I promise more funtimes. At least there is a fun poll right now. Suggestions/comments/questions/complaints always welcome.



Friday, September 26, 2008

hungry for money
thirsty for peace
one world
two perspectives

upset i crumble
strong i remain
always will, always have
that's confidence

weak i may appear
as most pacifists do
but persistence is key
it wins over all

no definition
for that i am proud
regrets are few and small

you will learn

ignorance is retardation
bliss is not visible from our eyes
only from the depths of our minds
which few of us know


now retaliate

and finally meditate
if you can

if not, focus on step one
then two
then try three


did i distract you

get with it

i wanna be jackie onasis. i wanna wear a pair of dark sunglassses. io wanna be jackie O- Oh- Oh please dont die!


prose(ish) and whatnot. ENJOY

nothing done
but not a wasted day
a wasted day in paradise
where all of the best ones come from

something sweet
always a silver lining
just pretend youre the king and youll see
fun fun fun in the sun sun sun

nothing wasted
everything complete
bored with life after this feat
why would i want this for myself
or wish it upon my worst enemies
though none exist

25 and fifteen fifty yield
not enough for the creator
not enough for the brain

giant heads are distracting
also often outspoken
but they rule our world
so why bother questioning

still feel that way
about the thing a time ago
still bitter, still upset
yet waiting for a reply though

it wont come
oh no it wont
i kid myself to sleep
as i read ads for what was mine to keep

timing wrong, all wrong
but still meant to be
i can not hide here
but if not here, where

i numb myself
i sleep
i write and i write and nothing bothers me


love not war

After rereading a few of my recent entries, I have come to realize a lot of it is bitching. So, I am openly admitting to hypocrisy here. Negativity is counterproductive, and I hate to bitch. It just makes for bad karma too. I try to limit myself to constructive criticism but it's easy to get carried away. But just so everyone is one the same page, when I do rant, the stuff is mostly an exaggeration intended to be humorous, so just laugh with me here.

That's settled. So let's move on and talk about more positive stuff.

(Easier said than done.)

Not that I can't think of anything positive, it's just much more dull stuff.

The debate is on tonight - I'm sure I will have plenty to talk about afterward lol.
I'll take notes. I kinda have to watch anyway. And god damnit! I keep forgetting to register to vote down here. Monday. For sure.

Tomorrow is Chili day! That's a positive.
Oh and cruising C-U (and Savoy) today with Mike was fun. Getting lost is always fun, unless ya got somewhere to be.

Maybe I can convince everyone to help clean. Doubt it, but I'm gonna try.

Sorry for the negative shit again, and sorry this is a kinda blah entry but, you'll live. Better ones to come soon, of the negative and positive variety lol.


Thursday, September 25, 2008

If you're going to hold a grudge, you best speak up about it.

Avoidance is ridiculous and it solves nothing, non-confrontational [people].

If you can't stand the heat, quit your day job as a cook. For real.

Two wrongs NEVER make a right. That shit's a dream world that George W. Bush, john McCain and Sarah Palin live in.

COMMUNITY. COMMUNICATION. Let it fucking be. SPELL IT OUT. You only live once. So honesty is the best mother fucking policy. TRUST ME.

Trust me. I have lived longer than most in my peer circle. Not a whole lat longer, but longer enough to know the shit y'all don't. (Except, maybe T"U"L)

So let's stop being RE-RE's and get with it!


the ABC's

The ABC's of my problems (compliments of T"U"L - btw, you're too good for a B. major)

A - Accounting. Stupid shit, stupid shit, stupid shit. I can add!!!!
B - Big business. You're rich enough already.
C - California. You will fall off, into the ocean someday. Spencer Pratt is a DB.
D - Despondency. Speak up already!
E - Everything. It all needs fixing.
F - Foreigners. No I'm not racist, but seriously get with the culture.
G - Gandolf (sp?) Lord of the Rings is lame as shit.
H - YEAHHHH!!!!! (not really a problem)
I - me, myself, and
J - Jealousy. It sucks balls, from both ends. (That's what she said.)
K - Kyle. Quit being so D! I love ya man.
L - Leftovers. Get the old ones out of the fridge people!
M - Men. Get over it, females know what's up.
N - Negativity. How counterproductive.
O - Omega. The Greek alphabet is for loser frat boys.
P - Palin. What a bitch. I think we all like bulldogs with lipstick better.
Q - Questioning my ABC's. I know what's up.
R - Reality. It is what it is.
S - Summer. WAYYYYY overrated.
T - Theology. Just believe what you want to and let everyone else do the same.
U - Umbrellas. Just deal with the rain, losers.
V - Vegas. So lame. Seriously? We got casinos here too. And better yet, OTBs!!!
W - lol, come on! What an easy one... W!
X - Xerox machines, because x-rays are not that bad.
Y - Yellow. Stupid Coldplay song.
Z - Z, you kinda rock. Keep it up. I love you.

and J, I love ya baby. you make me something else

would it be nice?

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older?

Then we wouldn't have to wait so long

And wouldn't it be nice to live together

In the kind of world where we belong

You know its gonna make it that much better

When we can say goodnight and stay together

Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up

In the morning when the day is new

And after having spent the day together

Hold each other close the whole night through

The happy times together we've been spending

I wish that every kiss was never ending...

Wouldn't it be nice?

Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray... it might come true

Baby, then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do...

We could be married and then we'd be happy,

Wouldn't it be nice?

You know it seems the more we talk about it

It only makes it worse to live without it

But let's talk about it...

Wouldn't it be nice?

*Brian Wilson & Tony Asher (Irving Music)

naivety is the name of the game for tonights post, or at least the first one.
things come and go. people come and go. my mom used to say "friends come and go, but siblings are here forever." i have never disagreed with the first part of that comment, but some friends do "come and go" while others, the true ones, are with you forever. it may just be in mind or spirit, but they are there.

anyhow, straying form the point.
which, is this: they say "you're only young once." BUT, I feel as if I have not aged a bit (other than physically) since I was in high school. No one around me has aged either. Not family, nor friends, not even Larry King! lol

Yes, things have changed, time has passed and life has gone on. However, I still feel like me, with more experience, more knowledge, and less innocence. It's good and bad. But it is what it is. (Probably the best line ever written or spoken, because of it's honesty.)

But, the point I have strayed from once again. I am just going to be blunt here. Again, it is what is is and if it hurts someone(s), well, so be it.
"Wouldn't It Be Nice" was kinda the mantra of our relationship. That being the first of my serious relationships. How naive. I will always hold a place in my heart for her, and if we met today, both of us single, there might be a chance that we would hit it off. But, for reals-z's, it is what it is. No regrets.

FINAL THOUGHT: I have been far too focused on life to worry about school or work lately. But, is it not life that we are living? School, work, and everything else are mere details that make up out LIVES.

Dream as if you'll live forever. Live as if you'll die today.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Writin the hits...

Why I love the man so much...

WRITIN' THE HITS.... from Wilson Wolf on Vimeo.

My two favorite parts:

"Slightly country, but slightly modern, like Wilco in designer clothes."

Laugh out loud alone in your room funny!

And then at the end, "I'm like my own version of Fleetwood Mac if it was... Fleetwood Ma... Mac, Maccaroni and Cheese!"

These jams puts smiles on my face. As part of my quest to save the world, I thought I would share it with you. Pass it on.

omg some of us are crazy

life is nothing

they ignore it
maybe its just a great distraction
it retarded
we all are

i want to give up
but it wont solve anything

i need to save us

Tuesday, September 23, 2008


DEAR FOGGY, LOVE RYAN from Wilson Wolf on Vimeo.

Monday, September 22, 2008

only to dream part one

they must need fixing
my curiosity clouds my judgment
so very cold, or seemingly so
racing thoughts make my head warm
my warmth will battle the cold

like turning magnets
the feelings come and go
the reactions, likewise
something, or nothing
more confusion, but quite intoxicating
it overtakes my ego

i beg for words to describe
nothing comes
only pure, raw emotion
yet it comforts me

all i have now is time
yet, my worst enemy
like a metronome, it mocks me
and its steady rhythm, so hypnotic

the fresh scent, like lemonade on a hot day
sends me into trance
my senses have taken complete control
my actions paralyzed by my thoughts
words cannot even come
i am frozen, though the clock ticks away

i make a poor attempt
a hail mary in a cloud of smoke
my mind out of focus entirely
blindly i aim high
my aimless attempts yield nothing

i assumed destruction
but instead just nothingness
a question unanswered
a feeling, still numb
a mystery still unsolved


It's a curse
Written in cursive
Unreadable, even to me
Few, if any understand

The ache is constant within
The rest, more importantly
But also here it hurts
Without prayer I ramble

The trap was set
I fell right in
Avoidable once
Now inevitable, almost

A fork with infinite teeth
Yet so restricting
I beg for answers quietly
But loudly demean desultory

The path undetermined
I try to set sail
But the hard winds blow
Will I sink at sea

I am at the reigns
Navigator extraordinaire
With no key
It's all up to me
Up to me

Sunday, September 21, 2008

god awful creative shutdown

Well, less than 24 hours left in the first ever, unscientific poll. Hope you've all voted. Feel free to vote twice, or even thrice, or four times, if and only if you can think of a creative way to end the number four with "ice." This time tomorrow we will know what we should be calling female breasts, unscientifically of course. But those who do not follow the new rule will be shunned and frowned upon (literally and figuratively.

In other new, it's been another crazy weekend. But that is what the weekends are for...
and Tuesdays (Piano Man day). Okay, Thursdays too, since it's almost the weekend anyway. Oh and you can't forget hump day, Wednesday!

CSI: Miami returns tomorrow. YEEEAAHHHHHHHH!!!!! Horatio Cane, dead or alive? Gotta watch to find out! We should probably have a small CSI: Miami party. So, I guess Monday shall be a crazy night too... just this week. Maybe I should stay up all night for a marathon of all of last season's episodes! Wait, that would mean I would be up all night - another crazy night, and that would make seven.


No, on the seventh day we rest. (Unless you're Jewish, then it's on the sixth day. What do you Jews do on Sunday btw? I mean it's not like you work, or go to school... Seriously, any Jews who read this, let me know. Oh, and also, do you really control the Liberal media? I didn't think so. Yeah, and just one more thing, how can your nationality be Jewish? What nation was it that you lived in, Jewland? Like, don't take this the wrong way, I am no racist or religion-hater (except for Scientology), but I want an actual Jew who knows what they're talking about to explain this to me, or more or less prove me right that it is NOT a nationality, just a religion. Thanks in advance.)

Wow, I hope if any Jews read this they have a sense of humor. Otherwise I just lost like 9 friends.

Back to the pointless badder.

Okay, maybe not. So I Wiki'd that shit, and it goes on and on about the ethnoreligious-osity, or something, of the Jews. You'd think, being an Anthro major that I would get that, but the whole "Jewish nation" things confuses me. Maybe I need to take some more religion courses or something? So, please Jews, do explain. If it's complicated enough, we can have a little get-together at my place. You bring the dradle and I'll whip up the potato pancakes. AWESOME!

BOND will return in....

Saturday, September 20, 2008

i wish i had me a(n)...


a brain

a heart



rainy day button

raunchy blowup doll


personal masseuse

boat (not a yacht)


money for a real education

mansion on the top of a hill

good job (but not a retarded one)


sense of self

raison d'etre


Recklessness sucks almost as much as being drugged

So I might be conspiracy theorizing here, but I'm pretty confident that I was drugged last night. (Or abducted by paranormal beings)

But for serious, I totally don't remember 30-90 minutes of last night.

I was at my Booze News meeting/audition (my first meeting of the staff), and I was really nervous about it. And if you know me, you know I have anxiety issues. If not, you know now.

I had two-three beers at home (prior to the meeting) and ate dinner. I then left home (feeling mildly buzzed, at the very most) and walked seven or eight blocks to the apartment where the meeting was being held. I had two beers before the hard stuff arrived. I made a long island (or equivalent, alcohol-wise). That is the last drink I remember making, although I slightly recall having another beer.

From then on out, it's pretty fuzzy. I remember having a conversation with a couple girls and guys, and texting Kyle. I would say a good half hour went by before Kyle arrived at said apartment. I don't really remember him even arriving.

Then, supposedly I fell through a glass table. I don't doubt it, I have the cuts to prove it, but I can not recall any of it.

Next thing I know I'm in the bathroom with Kyle, washing my hands. We leave, because I am being scolded and screamed at by the staff.

Next recollection: me asking Kyle how we got home. Yes, that's right, I do not remember ANY of the walk home.

Next thing I know I'm making an ass of myself in front of my room/floormates. I recall bits and pieces, like calling Noah (though I have no clue what the convo was about). But I thank you so much kind sir; and I apologize for possibly being a dick.

Friday morning. I wake up, no hangover. Regrets, many. But I feel fine. Eight hours of sleep, TOPS. If I drank that much I would have had a hangover.

Strange times indeed.

Yes I was reckless, but perhaps not on my own accord.

Life - it's all we got. If you're not gonna rock it out, fuck it. That's my motto, my raison d'etre.

Live. Learn. Love.
(The latter being of utmost importance.)
You can not fulfill the other two without the loving part. It's science, trust me.

Head full of tricks and treats
Places where junkies meet and
It leads me through the streets at night
But that's alright
I just watch I don't go inside

It's all the same old shit again
I got a...

I got a HALLOWEEN head

Lord I got a HALLOWEEN head

Guitar Solo!

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

it's wide awake, i'm mourning

It's late, I'm up. What else is new?

Jessica, you are the most honest person I know.

Most people lie. Everyone has something to hide. It sucks, but it's the truth.
We hide things because we afraid of being judged. We hide things because we are ashamed. We hide things because society tells us to.
It sucks.

Summer went by too fast; as it always does, but far faster than any other previous summer. Perhaps because I came down to Champaign before Labor Day... or maybe not.

It's getting colder now, just how I like it. It's a feeling I have had for the past five, six autumns.

I see all my Facebook friends from my graduating class (of 2002 lol) talking about getting engaged, married, even some having kids. Kinda, really creepy. But I know I'm not ready. Does that make me old or young? (Please comment, both old friends and new ones.)

"Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter."
~Mark Twain

I try not to mind, but society constantly reminds me that it matters. Yet, I could care less, and I have to keep telling myself that. Sometimes I feel like a rolling stone, and it feels good. Other times it feels bad.
My life is a bittersweet one. I just hope that I can help people in my time here. I know I can. I'm not too modest to say that I am a smart guy. It's undeniable, lol. But, for serious, I love and care about every person that I meet. It's a blessing and a curse all at once. Boo.

You can't refuse when you ain't got nothin' to lose.


(it gathers no moss) Yet, I do.
I'm a SLOW-rolling stone, or something. I guess

Golden days have past, and yet many to come.
Hold steady, every moment waits.


Hang in there kids. Life is more than meets the eye.

Monday, September 15, 2008

weekend in review

so, Peters was a hit. The chili was a hit. And despite the spreading of germs, I think this weekend was pretty ROCK!

we sang, we danced, we rocked, we drank, we ate, and we watched football. and it as all gone in a flash.

and then Jessica asked me if "asking a question in a persuasive paper [was legal]."

Nothing personal baby, of course. We are all guilty of it, especially me. Following rules never got anyone anywhere. If you have a valid point to make, do it how you do it. Do it how you have to, how you want to. CLICHE WARNING: Rules are made to be broken. Perhaps, not made to be broken, but rather made by people who have no creativity and need rules to mandate their lives. LAME. I mean come on! As evil as he was, he challenged authority by sailing the ocean blue, and proving that the world is round, not flat. Columbus was a badass ('til he killed the NA's).
Just like our world is three dimensional, so are we. Probably more than three, actually. Humans are infinitely dimensional as far as I'm concerned.

BACK to the weekend in review...

So it's Friday afternoon, and Kyle and I are watching TV, when all of a sudden, this noise begins to hover over us. At first it seemed like somebody rolling something down the hall or a big truck passing by, but then it got louder, and Kyle pulled the whole "duck and cover" routine. I start freaking, tapping Kyle, pushing Kyle, shoving Kyle. He finally runs outside at my request only to return stating, "Oh, it's only the Jets."
No way Brett FAvre makes that kinda noise. (lol lame joke)
So I run outside to see the planes flying over. Had I been ten years older, I am pretty sure I would have had a heart attack. There has to be something illegal about what happened there. FUCKED ME UP! I swear I almost shit my pants. Thanks Kyle (whom, btw, claims he "knew all along it was the jets" and was joking about it.)


Ok, maybe sleeping now. WE shall see.

Cleveland, Ohio. April 5, 1968.

Mr Chairmen,Ladies And Gentlemen

This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity, my only event of today, to speak briefly to you about the mindless menace of violence in America which again stains our land and every one of our lives.

It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown. They are, most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one - no matter where he lives or what he does - can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet it goes on and on and on in this country of ours.

Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by an assassin's bullet.

No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero; and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of reason.

Whenever any American's life is taken by another American unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of the law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of the life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.

"Among free men," said Abraham Lincoln, "there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and those who take such appeal are sure to lost their cause and pay the costs."

Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike. We calmly accept newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment. We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire.

Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some Americans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home. Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them.

Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul.

For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is the slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.

This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all.

I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered.

We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers.

Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.

We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our own children's future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.

Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we cannot vanquish it with a program, nor with a resolution.

But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek, as do we, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can.

Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again.

-Robert F. Kennedy

Our playgrounds have become battlegrounds. Our streets have become cemeteries. Our schools have become places to mourn the ones we've lost," Obama told a standing-room-only congregation at Vernon Park Church of God on Chicago's Far South Side.

The violence is unacceptable, and it's got to stop.

Enough is enough I suppose. Barrack Obama is not RFK. He is not Fidel Castro either. And more importantly, he is not John McCain. We should be so lucky to have someone like Obama running for President. He can not speak for the life of him (aside from his DNC speech, which had it's flaws, but overall was decent), he makes friends with racist religious leaders and other hooligans, he is young and may be "inexperienced" BUT....

He is a family man. He was raised in a diverse household. He "gets" people. He is down to earth and blue-collar. He is black and white (like the cookie, and the Michael Jackson song), and he is one smart dude. Some may call him an elitist, but the man has character. He knows what he is doing, just like the "majority" of us thought Bush did. So let's make a god damned change and vote for CHANGE. It almost happened back in 1968, until some asshole with a gun (FUCK OF NRA!!!!!) and a brain the size of a thumbtack decided to gundown our future.

So, yes, I watched "Bobby" tonight, but it wasn't my first time. Jenny pointed out how much she loved that speech, and I couldn't help but blog about how relevant it is today, and how non-conservative it is. Kyle, Jenny and I were discussing it shortly after the film, and while Jenny entertained the idea of a "Kennedy family curse," Kyle and I agreed that people don't like change, hence the amount of conservatives in this country. We are one fucked up society America. Got news for y'all: the one who dies with the most money still dies, and usually unhappy.

41 shots later.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Life - a good thing. Very confusing but good. In the middle of a party right now, but felt I have neglected my blog of any real content lately. Plus I'm a little drunk and needed a breather. ROCK! Just needed some musical healing, and if I laid down and listened to music I would totally pass out. But it's early and I don't wanna do that. So, breather time.

My life - really F'ed up, but still awesome. Just wanna chill and learn, and teach.

So happy that Peters is here. Should go back out and show him my appreciation. If there ever existed an unconditional love, it was his. Not just for me, but for everyone.

I hate my mom, I love my mom.

I thought today was the last ever. Thanks retarded jets. Pissed me off.
Out of Xanax now. Kinda scary. Just gotta watch myself.

Time to pee. Maybe more later.

For now:

She'd ash on the carpet an slip me a pill, and get me pretty loaded on Gin.


Friday, September 12, 2008

Me+The Booze News=Sexytime

Earlier in the week I sent the following email to the Booze News seeking employment:

To the drunk to which it may concern,

I love booze. I am also a fan of news. 'Nuf said.

I'm a male, 24 years of age (yes, still attending school), I am a sagitarius, and I enjoy long walks on Green Street (preferably while intoxicated).

I have no formal education in journalism - if I did I would be a toolbag applying to the DI, eff that ess- but I am minoring in creative writing, among other things (hence, 24 and still in school).

The Booze News is my favorite thing to bring with my when I poop. It's short enough to read cover to cover in one dump-sitting, and then it doubles as TP!

I can not draw, but I do enjoying photographing things (i.e. naked women). I am not quite sure if this is a required job skill, but I figured I would throw it out there.

If positions are still available, your consideration is grateful. If not, fire the guy making the most money and I'll do his job for half the pay.

Should you require a resume or other fancy-pants application, references or proof of legality, I regret to inform you that I... no just kidding. Except about the legal part. (no, really, I am a citizen) For serious though, if you need that stuff or a more extensive writing sample, just hit me up. (Just a heads up, after 5 P.M. I'm usually in no condition to be talking on the phone, but then again I'm sure you speak Drunklish, so whenever is cool.)

Forever Yours,

Ryan Brokamp (look it up, I'm legal!)
c. 630.772.1283

Disclaimer: I do not use The Booze News to wipe my ass. That's what the DI is for.

And the response from the managing editor:


Loved the email. You definitely seem like someone who would fit well on staff. If it's alright with you, I'd like to meet up with you sometime soon just to get to know you a little better then have you come to a meeting. Let me know what works for you.

Danyel Logue

University of Illinois- Junior
The Booze News- Managing Editor

In case I haven't explained how freaking excited I am for this, let me tell you all one more time; this is going to be amazing. I can't wait to start writing for them. Still waiting to hear back about meeting from Danyel, but it's seems like I'm in. Should be a lot of drunken fun.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

welcome new Brohams...

ATTENTION all NEW Brohams:

The following post labeled 'Horseracing 101' can be skipped over (for it is very much unlike the rest of the blog). Unless you're interested in horseracing (which you should be) I urge you to skip to the next entry, and at your leisure, return to the horseracing entry.

Also, please become a Broham and follow me.
Goodnight and Good Luck!

Monday, September 8, 2008

Horse Racing 101

Ok so I got a bit of time to kill, and since we now have BOTH TVG and HRTV (the two horseracing channels) in our cable lineup, I must teach my roommates the ins and outs of becoming a compulsive gambl- er, playing the ponies.

Just a fun thing to mix things up, really. I'll try to properly label the blog titles so you don't waste your time reading this if you could care less (but you should, because it's the sport of kings, and it's awesome).

I won't bore you with the history and stuff, but just know this: it's an old sport, really old. I mean freakin' chariot races were around before Jesus and stuff. And yes, it is a sport. With the exception of soccer and maybe a few others, horseracing is one of the most global sports still alive. (They should include it in both the summer and winter olympics- the average racehorse is like 4, so I dunno how the chinese could cheat on this one)

In the U.S., there are three primary types of racing: Thoroughbred, Harness (Standardbred), and Quarterhorse. They are listed in order of coolness. Quarterhorses are more like ponies so it's boring, and harness is ok, but it's more about the driver than the horse. Thoroughbred is more common anyhow, and unless noted otherwise, that is what I will be referring to in these posts.

Obviously, what makes the sport so awesome is the betting part. Otherwise it'd be like slow Nascar, for rich people... ewww. State governments regulate the gambling, and legalize it through a parimutuel system. Basically this means is that you're not betting agaisnt the house at all (like at a casino, blackjack, etc.) but rather against other gamblers. This could be a good thing, or a bad thing. If you can outsmart your fellow gamblers, you can win big. If you have no clue what you're doing, you're no better off at the track than in front of a slot machine.


It's much like the stock market in ways; you're always following trends and patterns, looking for tips, and taking an educated guess (a risk/gamble) at turning your dollar into two (or hopefully, more).
If you go to the track and pick up a program, chances are you'll have no clue what all the numbers, letters and symbols bunched together in microscopic print are. It looks like Russian at first. But with some patience and time, you can learn to break this code. It's much easier than it looks, but because people are stupid and lazy, there is almost always some sort of Handicapper's analysis section following the jumbled numbers and stuff. A handicapper's job is (a) to set the morning line odds
for a racecard, (b) to analyze the races and write in programs/newspapers/websites, informing the public of his or her "professional" opinion, and (c) to make you feel stupid. And it works with most people. They use all these fancy terms and refer to horse's as if he/she is on a first name basis with them. Some 30 year-old frat boy will read a handicapper's analysis, nodding his head, trying to impress his friends, like he actually gets it. These people are so easy to pick out in a crowd. I could spend a day at the track just people watching, pointing out these assholes. Between them, the "I bet on the horse for its name/colors/number/dong size" crowd is just as bad, but they are less of a threat. Then you have the old men who talk a big game, recalling stories of big bets they've caught in the past, at XYZ track in a year my parents weren't even alive in, yet these old dudes never seem to hit anything these days. Or the variation of the old dude: usually hangs around with the other old guys, but has a need to be the odd man out and bet on the horse no one else likes, PROMISING "this one's a winner," only to make excuses (i.e. blaming the jockey/weather/other horse/dong size) for his loss. Finally you got the type who ALWAYS bets on the longshot, looking for a big payout. Just plain dumb. Again, back to the casino with your lame ass! With all of these groups, there exists exceptions. Occasionally one of these people will get lucky and feel the need to tell everyone else about how great their "system" is. YOU DON'T HAVE A SYSTEM! You won once out of a hundred times using your "system." There are no "systems" in betting on horses, remember this, or you will find yourself more worried about your system than the races and horses themselves, or fall into one of the aforementioned groups.

So basically we've been over a bunch of DO NOTs. It is important if you want to be successful at the track, to go into it with the right mindframe. I know this sounds ridiculous, I mean it's just gambling, but for serious, your emotions will get in the way. A "hunch" or a second guess will cause you more heartbreak than the small dent you might leave in your wallet. If you like a bet, make it. But make sure you are confident with it. Make sure you've thought about it thoroughly, but be careful not to overthink. Spread out your money, but don't go throwing it all over the place, just so you have a "sure winner somewhere in your bets." You'll never come out ahead that way. Again, I think a lot of these points can be used in trading as well. Very similar.

Well that's it for today kids. I know we didn't get into very many specifics, but all of the bold terms will be later discussed, as well as many others. Should you want to read ahead, for extra credit or just to impress me (I like being impressed!) feel free to Wiki that shit, or whatnot. Next time we'll get more into the betting itself, how it works, types of bets, payoffs, odds, etc. Eventually class will have to be held in person so we can go over reading a program, and should things go well, a field trip may even be in order, to test and hone your skills.

С днем рождения Коммунист

what do you do when the words dont come?
(writers block again)
i guess my long hiatus from creativity, followed by this sudden explosion - a need, almost an addiction to self-expression - has rendered me incredibly conscious of my placing in the creative stream. i fall into ruts (this one, seemingly short and lacking significance) and hit highs where i can just write, write and write for days. unfortunately my human body does not allow me to do so, but i feel that i could. i almost have to pry myself from my keyboard sometimes.

it all kinda seems pointless though. i mean, it's just a freaking blog. but then again, it's kind of like practice, or training. its like working out the mind a bit - more comparable to a light jog jog than a five-mile run.
i hate to do it, but lets take Micheal Phelps- swimmer extraordinaire! Does his skill come entirely natural to him? No, of course not. Obviously the man trains, hardcore. So is it all in the effort, the routine, the diet, the regimented lifestyle? Well, we know that can't be it either. I mean, come on! Mother fucker had a DUI before he was even 21 (I think...). So dudeman knows how to incorporate fun into his "regimented" lifestyle. The same goes for any athlete, I suppose.
But what about with other skills?

S. King once stated, "if you don’t have 8 hours a day to either read or write and you aren’t working in an office or on a construction crew, then you aren’t taking it seriously."

I believe in discipline, though I am not a huge fan, I respect it. It just reminds me of Army and whatnot. I just feel bound to something that is not my choice if I subscribe to discipline. I can handle it in small doses, and even large doses if it's something fulfilling. Like this blog, I know it's not much, but I stick with it. Granted, I may not write in it on a "regular" basis, I do take care of it. (Though it may be taking better care of me.)
I suppose this whole dilemma is what has sparked the idea of a second major - creative writing. Discipline, but unrestricted discipline. (That's a goddamn oxymoron.)

"You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you." ~Ray Bradbury

...but the sun always rises, Ray.

Reality can be so destructive. I know that's not the subject of Ray's quote, but a side thought. Probably blog about this later.

Or maybe a bit now... (reality to writing though)
During my bathroom break I had a slight epiphany/brainstorm:

Is this blog/my writing in general, an acceptance of reality, or rejecting or avoiding it?

Maybe a little bit of both. Long term acceptance, but short term relief.

The fact that I'm starting to not make sense again makes we think I should stop here. How lame. Maybe I'll pick it back up in a bit but adios for now amigos!

Oh, and Happy Birthday Commie!

Thursday, September 4, 2008

the slave path

Busted tooth (ouch) and a smile
And cigarette ashes in her drink
The kind that goes out and then sleeps for a week (like brian wilson did)
The kind that goes out on her
To give me a reason, for well, I dunno (existentialism)

And maybe shed take me to france
Or maybe to spain and shed ask me to dance
In a mansion on the top of a hill
Shed ash on the carpets
And slip me a (xanax) pill
Then shed get pretty loaded on gin
And maybe shed give me a bath (baths are for women!)

Thanks, D.R. for the previously edited content.

on to the good stuff... or not - my writing feels weak tonight. lets see what i can make of it.

I'm making up for my lost years, in more ways than one, in more ways than I can even perceive, let alone describe. GUITAR SOLO!
Life is complicated. I can say that much, but that's boring, that's something you all know already. And if you don't, well, you're probably retarded. Yes, I said it. So did that stupid Ben Stiller film, so suck it!

Is anyone sure about God?
I mean, I know the essence of faith is believing in the unseen, but I dunno that anyone (aside from the brainwashed Christians) feel that attached to God.
I know that there is something out there, guiding us, watching us, or at the very least providing a focus.
No one can argue that point, or we'd all be dead. Seriously, what keeps the atheists alive? The need/desire to prove the "believers" wrong?
Kinda lame atheists. kinda lame.

We MUST have a purpose. We do, I know we do. Well, I guess I don't know for sure, but something has kept me alive. Something so powerful it incorporates my family, friends, my love, my passion, my interests, my intentions - and points them all in a specific direction.

I hate science. It's too obvious for me. GRAVITY: things fall. BORING!!!!! (Sorry Alex, but physics just doesn't make me happy, lol.)
Biology? Great, we live. So do animals and plants. SWEET....... not! I've known this shit since age two!
Chemistry I guess I can appreciate a little bit - I mean, I have a chemical imbalance, or DID. Thanks to chemistry (and I guess bio too) I have a medication to fix that problem. Then again, who is to say it's a problem? Darwin would say it's natural selection; in which case, I should be dead, but thanks to science (Darwin's forte btw) I'm alive, and somewhat well, and blogging.

Maybe Charles' destiny was to die at an early age. If his theory can be proven, he himself may have been a victim of natural selection. Shit, Noah, Moses, Jesus even, could have all been victims of natural selection - SCIENCE!

"BOO science!"

Everything in moderation. This applies to society as well as the individual.

DNC: U-S-A, U-S-A, U-S-A!
RNC: U-S-A, U-S-A, U-S-A!

hmmmm..... it's the equivalent to a Cubs/Sox game where all the fans chant/yell: CHICAGO CHICAGO CHICAGO!

point: we divide ourselves through competition, not ideals. We share more ideals than we can perceive. We're just too dumb and too stubborn to compromise, and see the truth.

UGH! I really did not intend for this blog to become political. Fuck the conventions (aka pep rallys, clan meeting, Woodstock)!

We're just two lost souls swimmin in a fish bowl, year after year. Take a look in the mirror American Politics!!!!! we're fucked. thanks guys.

Why do they call it "hit the pillow?" <<Anyhow, I never hit my pillow. I love my pillow. It's my comfort item. It makes me feel safe, and good, and distracts me from all evils, and everything else. UGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!

what sin replaces love? <<< from a RA song. if anyone can dicipher that for me (look up the song if need be) i would love you forever.

anyone, goodnight all.

love is all you need [and the part lennon forgot - all that makes you CrAzY!]

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Solitude vs. Companionship: Round Two

(this bout has taken a change of pace)

So, companionship is great. The past four years, and equally so the past two weeks, have taught me that. Or rather, reinforced that fact.

However, solitude is inevitable. All things must come to an end. Relationships included. Sure, one can argue that once a loved one passes, his/her spirit lives on, but really, it takes more than one person for that spirit to live on. In a big family, or group of friends I guess the idea of someone's spirit living on makes sense. But eventually, in a group of people, there is only one left. Whether it be like tonight, where I am the last one awake and feeling lonely (like many nights), or a lifetime of friendship with a solid group of people, eventually there is only one.

None is a better number than one. If you disagree with everything else I've said, you can not deny this fact.

Better to have love and lost than to have never loved at all. This one is iffy. But, by the same token, in every relationship, one will lose. Losing sucks. It's hard, it's inevitable, it's life.

Wow, this whole entry totally contradicts my last one. But wait, this is round two of the main event! I guess this is exactly why I'm blogging about it.

Friends are great. Family is great. Lovers are great.

Blogs are great.... though aside from using the washroom, and thinking, and maybe a few other things, I guess blogging (or writing/working in general) is the only thing we really do entirely alone.

I was pulling for you solitude, but it looks like companionship barely took this round.

Look out for a big comeback by solitude in round three though.
I am going to watch TV downstairs, alone, waiting for someone to wake up and join me. And the sun does not count.

melancholy and the eternal optimism

Today was perhaps the worst day of being in Champaign. Nothing terribly wrong, no "major" events that made my day bad; hell, my day didn't even suck, it just failed to live up to it's potential. And in comparison to the other 11 or so days I've been here, it was lackluster.

First of all, I wanted to get some good stuff done today- and I guess I got some of that done today, but not all of it. Still, not terrible, but lacking total fulfillment.

Secondly, I got a call from my mom. She found out about my Huey Luey Duey. Sucks for me because I tried so hard to keep it from her, because I know she'd be extremely perturbed by the whole thing. Well, she was more than that. She did her best not to "preach" or lecture me but overall, it pretty much sucked. It was one of those "'I told you so' but I didn't relly want to 'tell you so'" situations. Like the opposite of a double chocalate icecream cone: guilt poured on top of more guilt. We've all heard the phrase too much of a good thing. Well, too much of a bad things exists as well, and obviously it's even worse.

Anyhow, after dealing with that, I went to work. Not too bad, tried to shake off the Motherly guilt., and I did so pretty well.

I, the eternal optimist, looked towards the future - tonight, the fantasy draft! And then Yahoo! screwed me over and made me sad. The true capper of a bad day. As is typical in my life, I can contribute my sadness and dissappointment to a large corporation. It's understandable Yahoo! but not excusable.

That all brings me to the topic of the day: Depression.

When I look at today in it's true light (which I am able to do thanks to prescribed medication, self-medication, and self-meditation. The inner peace I hold within myself has kept me sane, lighthearted, and happy (or at least content).

It's kinda like that Southwest Airlines ad on TV:
A solitary cloud passes over an otherwise clear sky and communal "awwwww" is heard by beachgoers.
Narrator: A bad day in Florida beats a good day nywhere else. (or something along those lines)

Hope you all got that, because we're moving on.

Sadness is NOT depression. Sadness exists in many forms and blossoms to many varying degrees. Today was sad, yes, and also disappointing. However, I am currently not depressed. Having one sad day does not equal depression.

Let's add that feeling of melancholy to the mix. Still, it may seem like depression. A sense of apathy, self-loathing comes upon me from time to time, but less often than previously.

It is this continued feeling that is what classifies depression. I fell that, due to the fact that I am feeling better on a consistent basis, I am overcoming my depression. Which, is AWESOME.

While on the phone with my mom today, talking about the "incident," I tried to remain positive. She was very discouraging, of course. But, overall I feel I stood my ground, and allowed her "I told you so's" to exist, but only in her mind. I constantly ask myself, what do I owe to her?
Nothing I suppose, or everything...? She's good, in so many ways, but she fails terribly as a mother in so many other ways. (Sorrry if this sounds bad, it's just my opinion.)
Well, my point is that while explaining to my mother that, yes, I made a msitake; yes, I did wrong, broke the law; yes, she "told me so;" I have to deal with this in a proactive way.
Meanwhile, she "sees it in a different light." She is the primary cause of my anxiety. It's not only genetic, but also inherited socially.
For example: my mom hears sirens in the distance - she then calls myself and my siblings to make sure it's not us. That is no way to live your life! I tried to avoid it, but one day the same anxiety took over, manifesting itself in a different way.
I guess she could blame her parents too, so there is no reason to point finger here, but c;mon! I feel like I'm two years old sometimes.
I can only do what I can do. I can not change the past. I can not ignore this. But at the same time, I can not make her happy. That is her responsibility. Just like my happiness is my responsibility, as is the same with every soul on this planet.

Happiness is extremely complex. It's harder for some based on circumstances, but we are all capable of achieving it. It's about self-repsect, compassion, acceptance and understanding; things I strive for everyday of my life, without even being concious of it all the time - because I feel like I was blessed with that kind of soul, that personality. It comforts me. We all need that sort of comfort.

Friday I will face a judge regarding my DUI. It sucks but it's something I have to do and have the courage to do. I'm not quite sure where it came from, but I am so very grateful for it.

Good night all!

Monday, September 1, 2008

down but not out

(meet me tonight in) atlantic city << good bruce song.

"everything dies baby, that's a fact. but maybe everything that dies, someday comes back."

we can only hope, bruce. we can only hope.

bad times, good times, time is of the essence. time, a magical thing.

they must need fixing
my curiosity clouds my judgment
so very cold, or seemingly so
racing thoughts make my head warm
my warmth will battle the cold

like turning magnets
the feelings come and go
the reactions, likewise
something, or nothing
more confusion, but quite intoxicating
it overtakes my ego

i beg for words to describe
nothing comes
only pure, raw emotion
yet it comforts me

all i have now is time
yet, my worst enemy
like a metronome, it mocks me
and its steady rhythm, so hypnotic

the fresh scent, like lemonade on a hot day
sends me into trance
my senses have taken complete control
my actions paralyzed by my thoughts
words cannot even come
i am frozen, though the clock ticks away

addition to the poem, y'all
kinda weak, still rough draft(ish), but hey - comments always welcome. my work may be very personal but outside input is never discouraged.

SIDE NOTE: todays favorite moment - the world's largest man explaining in spanish, that his favorite two things are "peeing" and "the love-making" good shit fat dude. good shit.

suddenly something so constricting about my bedroom. so many possibilities out there. yet, i lay awake, bored. well, not bored, just yearning for more. in due time. all things in due time.

"and dont stay mad, just let some time pass, and in the morning you'll wake feeling new. . . im keeping up with the moon on an all night avenue" -C.O., Bright Eyes

so, fall must come now! leaves changing colors, the smells, oh the smells! then the leaves fall from their homes, rearranging the landscape. pumpkins, cold air and sweaters. the world begins to slow down. things calm. sexy. summer - the jig is up!

Another random blog post! Westward ho! we go, we go.

"oh and mornings at my window and she is sending me to bed AGAIN" -C.O., Bright Eyes