So Hoobastank’s got a new album out. I dunno, my first impressions are mixed. It doesn’t reek of moldy vagina, per se, but you aren’t exactly eviscerated with pleasure, either.

There are some songs on the album that I genuinely enjoy. The following are two of them. The songs are a nice mix of heavy guitars as always, but Doug’s voice gets a little whiny, not so whiny as to classify it as emo Bullshit Confessionals whiny, but whiny enough to bother a little. I’m also not a fan of the prelude, featuring an annoying yelling drill sergeant. In short, the album’s feh; a mix of good and bad. Have a listen.

You know, I’ve been trying this whole “Hi” thing lately.

There’s really not much explanation to give. I literally
mean saying “Hi” to people. A basic greeting, in other words.

I’ve never really felt the urge to greet strangers, even
ones that I see on a constant basis. I guess I just never saw any reason or
purpose in greeting people that I didn’t plan on engaging in conversation
(with). I ended a sentence with a preposition,
and I know I’m going to hell.

I digress. I mean, I’m always polite with customers. That’s
just standard protocol. My check depends on me being nice to people, and I
don’t fuck around when it comes to money. So customers are not an issue in the
least.

I’m talking more about the employees at Shoprite that I see
on a daily basis while going on break, getting/giving my till, etc. You must
understand that by working in the pharmacy, I am essentially isolated from the
rest of the store. 95% of the time, the only person I am in contact with during
the 4 hours that I am on my shift is the supervising pharmacist.

So I’ve made a sort of conscious effort to greet various
employees if a glance is met. A “What’s up?” here, a “Hey, how’s it goin’?”
there. It sort of feels nice, truth be told. Heh, I’m goin soft.

1.21 Gigawatts!

The President’s Words

How to Eat at a Sushi Bar

Bah, paranoia got the best of me. No more picture, so instead, enjoy the following:

So I got my license today, on the 20th of July,
the year 2006.

The process of acquiring this license did not go smoothly,
much like really anything else in my life.

Let’s recount what happened today.

8:40

Got up. Jumped in the shower, dressed, and had a bowl of
Raisin Bran (it rules).

9:01

Left for Edison Inspection Station.

9:20

Arrive at Edison Inspection Station and sit waiting for an
inspector.

9:46

Inspector arrives. “Michelle” looks over my documents and
catches a hitch in my permit, which states that I must drive with glasses. Of
course, I left them at home. Michelle gives me two options: go home and get
glasses, or get vision rechecked at adjacent DMV facility. I choose the
latter.

9:50

Get in line at Vision Check.

10:10

Admitted to Vision Check. I am asked to read the first
line on the screen. I cannot decipher shit. I think that this text is
impossible to read and merely a mean spirited joke. I read some shit I
hallucinated to be in the boxes, “A B C, H Q D” The African American state
employee says, “Look here, son. Read the first line. There’s 4 letters in
each box, and 12 letters on the line.” Funny, in the blur, I could only make
out what I thought to be 3 letters in each box. Upon learning that each box
contained 4 letters, I concentrated my eyes as hard as I could, and in what I
can only assume a Godsend, managed to make out the 12 letters to the best of
my ability. The state employee’s response verbatim: “You barely made it. I’m gonna let it go. Here you go, son. Go pass
that road test.” I felt like that kid in the movies that needs to overcome an
insurmountable obstacle in order to achieve his goal and then has some dude
tell him (generically), “Go achieve that goal.” I am fucking ecstatic.

10:20

Line up again at Edison Inspection Station, waiting for an
inspector.

10:40

Michelle returns for a second go around. Everything is in
order. We proceed to take the test.

10:50

Left turn, right turn, left turn, right turn. And then the
“final challenge:” parallel parking between two cones. I accomplished this
deftly. “Brooklyn” style, in which the space for parking is so small, you
have no room to dick around jerking back and forth, you just back up in one
motion. I didn’t even complete the maneuver before she told me to K-turn and
get out of there.

10:55

We get back to the station. Michelle says I pass. Kickass.

10:58

Park at DMV facility. Go to Reception. Fill out license
application and provide various forms of identification to insure the DMV
that I am not a terroristic illegal immigrant.

11:00

Sit with thumb jammed firmly up ass for 40 minutes. Yes,
really.

11:40

My “number” is called up, I provide ID paraphernalia, $6
dollars, and get photographed.

11:45

My name is called, and I collect my shiny new plastic
license, sporting handsome holograms and TWO even more handsome photographs
of my face. In typical fashion, I am not wearing the customary American
toothy grin.

11:47

Drive home a licensed man.

12:10

Arrive home a licensed man.

AWESOME DAY

I was playing one of those banner games today (you know, the
one where you need to find 4 gold coins to win a Free* Xbox 360?) when I got to
thinking.

 

Which is more despicable?

  1. Concealing
    true feelings (or lack thereof)
  2. Admitting
    that you do not share the same feelings

 

“I’ll take A for $1000, Alex.”

 

When chicks think that they’re being “nice” by doing nothing
in response to a guy’s advances, I want to ask one question: Just who in the
fuck do you think you’re kidding?

 

You think you’re saving their feelings somehow? Get a clue.
While a confrontation in which you admit that you’re not interested can be
potentially volatile, it is still better in every sense than just closing your
eyes and hoping the whole situation’ll go away by itself. Sure it does, realization
that you’re being jerked around does kick in sooner or later, but you should
feel like the lowliest piece of shit for it afterwards. Because actually
following through with a confrontation requires spine. Any claim that you were
just “saving their feelings” is a sackful of horseshit, just a feeble attempt
at purporting your facade of being “a nice girl”.

 

I shouldn’t care, and frankly, I don’t any longer. Your filth is just staggering, that’s all.
I’ll dwell no longer on this subject. I merely needed closure.

 

And anyway, it all comes back to the asshole-lying
whore chain
; we all fuck each other in some way, and I’m perfectly fine
with it.

 

*We’re just fucking with you, you’re not gonna win a
fucking thing, but we sure are gonna have fun and profit (but mostly profit) at
your expense by making you sell our shitty perfume/alarm clock radio/solar
powered chin dildo to all of your hapless friends and family!

^ In love with this song right now.

“World So Cold”

When passion’s lost and all the trust is gone,
Way too far, for way too long
Children crying, cast out and neglected,
Only in a world so cold, only in a world
This cold
Hold the hand of your best friend, look into their eyes
Then watch them drift away
Some might say, we’ve done the wrong things,
For way too long, for way too long

Fever inside the storm,
So I’m turning away.
Away from the name
(Calling your names)
Away from the stones
(Throw sticks and stones)
‘Cause I’m through mending the wounds of us

Keep your thorns
‘Cause I’m running away,
Away from the games
(Fucking head games)
Away from the space
(Hate this head space)
The circumstances of a world so cold

burning whispers, Remind me of the days,
I was left alone, in a world this cold
Guilty of the same things, provoked by
The cause,
I’ve left alone, in a world so cold
Fever inside the storm,
So I’m turning away.
Away from the name
(Calling your names)
Away from the stones
(Throw sticks and stones)
‘Cause I’m through mending the wounds of us

Keep your thorns
‘Cause I’m running away,
Away from the games
(Fucking head games)
Away from the space
(Hate this head space)
The circumstances of a world so cold

I’m flying, I’m flying away,
Away from the names
(Calling your names)
Away from the games
(Fucking head games)
The circumstances of a world so cold

Why does everyone feel like my enemy,
Don’t want any part of depression or
Darkness, I’ve had enough
sick and tired, bring the sun, or I’m gone,
Or I’m gone

I’m backing out, I’m no pawn,
No mother-fucking slave to this,
Never lied
Never left
Never lived
Never loved
Never lost
Never hurt
Never worry about being me, or anyone else
Not a care, no concern, don’t give a shit about
Anything

Backing out, giving up, no mother-fucking
Slave to this,
Never lied
Never left
Never lived
Never loved
Never lost
Never hurt
Never worry about being me, or anyone else
Not a care, no concern, don’t give a shit about
Anything,

I need to find a darkened corner,
A lightless corner,
Where it’s safer and calmer,

I’m turning away.
Away from the name
(Calling your names)
Away from the stones
(Throw sticks and stones)
‘Cause I’m through mending the wounds of us

I’m running away,
Away from the games
(Fucking head games)
Away from the space
(Hate this head space)
The circumstances of a world so cold

I’m flying, I’m flying away,
Away from the names
(Calling your names)
Away from the games
(Fucking head games)
The circumstances of a world so cold

I want a Mini.

How beautiful is this fucker?

My road test is next Thursday. Invigorating.

“This is quite possibly the most boring parade I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m just coming,” K. said, rushed out, seized her, and kissed her first on the lips, then all over her face, like some thirsty animal lapping greedily at a spring of long-sought fresh water.

Literature at its finest.

Man, I love my logs.

Looking through old conversations you shared with people when you were inferior in some sense to your present self (whether it be naivete, or any other past deficiency) is an extremely reminiscentially entertaining experience. I particularly enjoyed the exchanges that took place while I was going through my (Hardcore) Asshole phase. None will be shared here for the sake of stalkers lurking around, but so you’re not left with blue balls, here’s a nice and harmless little dialogue sure to get a giggle or two out of you:

January 23, 2006:
StarBaiRGTA (5:22:30 PM) : hii there
StarBaiRGTA (5:32:11 PM) : hii there how are u doin i’m a friend of asheena
StarBaiRGTA (5:32:28 PM) : how u doin ?
Auto response from NinjaGod1337 (5:32:28 PM) :
FEAR
StarBaiRGTA (5:32:38 PM) : wazup fear
StarBaiRGTA (5:33:54 PM) : iight g2g
StarBaiRGTA (5:34:08 PM) : by the way my name is RYAN
StarBaiRGTA (5:34:15 PM) : u can even check ma pf
StarBaiRGTA (7:03:06 PM) : hey
NinjaGod1337 (7:05:22 PM) : Who’s this?
StarBaiRGTA (7:05:43 PM) : my name is RYan
StarBaiRGTA (7:05:48 PM) : u can ask asheena
StarBaiRGTA (7:05:57 PM) : she’s is ma ex gf
NinjaGod1337 (7:06:01 PM) : I don’t know who asheena is.
NinjaGod1337 (7:06:05 PM) : I don’t know who Ryan is.
StarBaiRGTA (7:06:15 PM) : i kno u dont kno me
StarBaiRGTA (7:06:27 PM) : i dont even kno u as well
StarBaiRGTA (7:06:39 PM) : but asheena give me ur sn so i can tlk to u
StarBaiRGTA (7:06:42 PM) : fa fun
StarBaiRGTA (7:06:51 PM) : i kno u kno whos’ askeena is
NinjaGod1337 (7:06:58 PM) : Who the fuck is asheena and how did she have my sn in the first place?
StarBaiRGTA (7:07:03 PM) : i imed u like twice before
NinjaGod1337 (7:07:12 PM) : Yeah and I didn’t answer you moron.
StarBaiRGTA (7:07:25 PM) : ooook
StarBaiRGTA (7:07:38 PM) : idk but she give me ur sn
StarBaiRGTA (7:07:49 PM) : u can check ma profile
StarBaiRGTA (7:07:56 PM) : and see who i am
NinjaGod1337 (7:08:00 PM) : I don’t care.
StarBaiRGTA (7:08:08 PM) : wats ur prob
StarBaiRGTA (7:08:18 PM) : sry to im u in the first place
NinjaGod1337 (7:08:27 PM) : Good. Now go away.
StarBaiRGTA (7:08:48 PM) : i’ll tell asheena abut u and make her fix ur prob
StarBaiRGTA (7:08:51 PM) : iight tty,
StarBaiRGTA (7:08:53 PM) : ttyl

I wanted to dump this here about a month and a half ago, but forgot about it. So here it is:

“Sir Gawain and the
Green Knight”

 

            Well known
sources state that: “In…literature, ‘Romanticism’ typically refers to the late
18th century and the 19th Century” (“Romanticism”.) There are several elements
characteristic of this literary movement: “a near perfect hero, an evil enemy,
a quest, a test of the hero, supernatural elements, good vs. evil, and female
figures who are usually maidens (in need of rescue), mothers, or crones” (Elements of Literature Sixth Course
167.) The short story, Sir Gawain and the
Green Knight
, demonstrates all of these elements of romance.

            Like all
people, Sir Gawain was not without flaws. Although an immaculately virtuous
knight by his nature, by the end of the story, Gawain was found spitting
vitriolically, “Cursed be cowardice and covetousness both, Villainy and vice
that destroy all virtue!” (Gardner 165.)
Gawain is found cursing himself for breaking the pact to which he agreed to: to
give anything that he has won to the lord of the castle. The sole item he
refused to return to the lord was the last item that the woman of the castle
gave to him, a green sash that supposedly granted invulnerability. This is
presumably because he was afraid of his encounter to be with the Green Knight; he
feared for his very life. After his encounter with the Green Knight, “Gawain
admits his breach of contract in having kept the green girdle and promises to
wear the girdle as a banner of his weakness” (“Sir Gawain and the Green
Knight”.) In this way, Sir Gawain demonstrates that although he is a great hero,
he is not without his flaws, and thus, not perfect.

            The evil
enemy in this short story is embodied through the Green Knight. A being
possessing supernatural abilities unbeknowest to our hero Sir Gawain, the Green
Knight is the main antagonist in this story. Posing a challenge to the knights
of the Round Table to “exchange one blow for another” (Elements of Literature Sixth Course 158,) the Green Knight finds
his challenger in Sir Gawain, who valorously swings at The Green Knight’s head,
decapitating him. To everyone’s shock, he is not fazed. The Green Knight merely
picks up his disembodied head, reminds Gawain that in a year he must find him
to face the same blow, gets on his horse, and gallops off. Clearly, Gawain’s
opponent is not a figure offering goodwill. Contrastingly, he is an evil enemy.

            Gawain’s
quest in this story is one of legendary proportions; he must go on a journey
that will test his valor, courage, and strength: “Now it’s New Year’s Day.
Gawain sets off to find the Green Chapel and the dreaded Green Knight” (Elements of Literature Sixth Course
158.) A year after dealing his blow to the Green Knight, Gawain is now
obligated to seek out his enemy, and face the same blow. In this sense, the
short story fulfills the requirement of containing a quest, as well.

            Most
certainly, Gawain’s test is a rigorous one. “At the castle, Gawain’s courtesy,
chastity, and honesty are all tempted” (“Sir Gawain and the Green Knight”.)
With each passing day that the lord of the castle goes hunting, the lord’s wife
attempts to seduce Gawain. For the first two days, Gawain accepts kisses from
her. On the third day, however, Gawain accepts a green sash that grants
invulnerability to its wearer. As demonstrated here, Gawain’s integrity and
adherence to the code of chivalry is tested here.

            Supernatural
elements are prevalent in the Green Knight. Although unbeknowest to Gawain, the
Green Knight is something of an invincible figure; “Before he knows that the
Green Knight has supernatural abilities, Gawain accepts the Green Knight’s
challenge to an exchange of blows” (“Sir Gawain and the Green Knight”.)
Therefore, the short story includes supernatural elements by having them adhere
to the Green Knight.

            The classic
battle between good versus evil is the main centerpoint of the entire story. On
the side of good, is noble knight Sir Gawain, opposing a dark and evil figure,
the Green Knight. And, as in all stories depicting good versus evil, there is a
final standoff between the two figures in which Gawain, although not having a
victory, per se, follows through with his pact, and ends up being spared by the
Green Knight’s axe.

            The central
female figure in the story is the wife of the lord. Here, however, the female
figure is in no need of any rescuing whatsoever. Conversely, she offers Gawain
a green sash that may very well rescue him
from what he perceives as a most certain death. By the end of the story, the
wife turns from a deceitful figure out to harm Gawain into his friend, “no more
a threat against [his] life” (Gardner
165.)

            Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is a
textbook example of a short story that contains every Romantic element, as per
requirement of the era. It contains a near perfect hero, an evil enemy is portrayed,
a quest is presented, a test of valor and veracity is imposed on the hero,
supernatural elements are prevalent, the battle between good versus evil
exists, and a female figure is one of the main characters in the story. 

What the fuck does Ernest Hemingway have on me?

Ocean Grove today.

The drive there was better than the beach. I love an opportunity to use cruise control.

Lovin my sound system. Further speaker installation commences tomorrow.