slothpyle

The Lawrence Arms are tomorrow.
It'll be fun.
I'm really hoping a MIDWEST (re: Middle Earth) tattoo encourages my stage debut.
Wishful thinking, I know, but what else would make that happen?
Neurotic, perhaps, but I've been practising my lyrics in paranoia.

This is where I'm best.
Two open beers on my desk, a Saturday night, some loud music, and a day full of cold shoulder.
I'm sure I did or said something last night - who cares, she'll get over it by tomorrow.
The point is that I've been feeling stupidly nostalgic lately, and this feeling of unease in my relationship is as much nostalgia as the Ninja Turtles.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I really enjoy being uneasy or dealing with a bitterly quiet woman.
However, I am definitely not a rookie in this territory.
Fuck it, I keep a pack of scouts on payroll for recon in that territory.
I'm no cartographer, but I've filled in some blank spots on that map.
Point and case, I'm 9 sentences in and this first beer is empty.  
I'm glad too because I'm awfully bored with the analogies.

I suppose I feel a bit guilty about nearly relishing turmoil.
I liken it to those times where you just want to be angry as hell.
Sometimes it utterly appropriate to have a bit of rage - to kick and scream and stomp.
It's bound to be healthy.
We'll move past whatever this nonsense is, and I'll see to it 100%, but in the meantime I'm practicing not giving a shit.

I'll address the situation in a day or two, but for now I'm going to live with this familiar feeling and not give an inch.
I mean, as a guy in a relationship you really can't afford getting twisted up over every time the woman is upset and feeding you that bullshit about nothing being wrong.
So, I'ma appreciate the nostalgia and the beer.

Cheers.

I'm probably lactose intolerant.
Neat.

Other than that I bought a bunch of books I'll probably take years to read.
I snagged the first 4 Dark Tower books from Stephen King.
Caroline has been working her way through the tail end of those, and they seem really interesting - not to mention right up my alley.

I also picked up a copy of Necronomicon.
It's a collection of H.P. Lovecraft tales that are pretty damn cool.
I've only read a few of the stories so far (including Dagon), but I'm really looking forward to Call of Cthulhu.
It's a creepy read for sure.
I've heard the name for years, but nothing really solidified my interest until I saw AM 1200.
I'm not going to bother describing it. Just watch it. 40 minutes well spent.

Beyond solid text I've got Neuromancer by William Gibson on audio book with a taste of Kafka (The Trial) and Dostoyevsky (Crime and Punishment) to follow - the later two recommend by Henry Rollins.
From what I've heard of Neuromancer (not word of mouth, but via audiobook) it seems to be what in part inspired the Matrix.
I'm certainly no sci-fi buff/geek/nerd, but the first chapter alone is awfully similar - not in content but in spirit.

I dunno... I used to read a lot, but I'll admit I'm not as well read as I ought to be.
Sure, I've read plenty of books, but only from a few authors.
I need a bit of diversity.

So, I said my peace to the guy via e-mail.
He's sticking with his guns, which is a natural defense, but at least it seems it will be civil.

He's clearly at fault, but he's focusing on a non-issue in attempts to make it my fault.
I'm laughing out loud at the brass balls on this idiot.
He maintains that I'm the shitty friend because I never mentioned some shit from last November until 3 weeks ago.
That same shit that went down November 10th, 2008 that I was over November 11th, 2008.
Proof?
I thought you'd never ask: http://slothpyle.livejournal.com/2008/11/11/

The time I do bring it up, he pours a drink on me and storms away before even hearing the full story.
Of course, not hearing the full story didn't stop him from going on a tirade about how my girlfriend is a liar and how I threw all my convictions out the window, etc...

Are you kidding?!
He pours a drink on me and blasts me via text using the woman I love as ammunition, and has the balls to be mad at me without even hearing the full thing he's supposed to be mad at me about.
It would be like going insane at, "Your girlfriend cheated," without hearing, "at Monopoly."
Skipping all the parts of his recollection of that November that are either wrong or made-up, it's still 100% absurdly ridiculous that he's even trying to make it out like I'm the bad person.

As much as I know arguing online is pointless, I very nearly want to get into it with him and just call him and idiot over and over again.
To be a man about it, I left it at (paraphrasing) my asking him to think about why he's mad at me for something he didn't even let me finish saying.
I then dared him to let me finish the rest of the story if for no other reason than to make him just in his anger.
And finally, I called him out of his focusing on November 10th in attempt to divert my attention from the fact he's been doing all sorts of shitty things to all of our friends. Personally, he only poured a drink on my head and used my girlfriend to bring me down, but that's not all he's been up to.
Think Billy Hoekman version 2.scumbag.

Basically, the idiot can't handle any amount of truth that paints him negatively.
He's an idiot child.

I went to the San Diego Dungeons and Dragons Meetup last night.
It wasn't what I called fun, but I really wasn't there to have fun. I was there with a purpose, which I think I succeeded.

I met a few nerds, a couple dorks, and a slew of geeks.
I mostly kept to myself and my tea mostly engaged in watching the other folks.
You see, nerds, geeks, dweebs, and dorks are a very particular sort.
Like any other sort of person they can be insufferable or a blast.
Unlike any other sort of folk you can usually tell this within a few minutes (or seconds) of meeting them.

For instance, last night I first met up with two fellas.
One was a gentleman in his 40s who was a first timer like me.
The other was a bit older than me who apparently had done this time and time again.
The older guy was looking for players for his game, and was perceived as intelligent, curious, and really nice if not a little bit loud and talkative.
The younger guy, to be perfectly specific, was awful.
I mentioned something about DnD software only allowing you to make a character to third level, and he replies, "Yeah, if you don't pay for it," with a snottiness that only an elite geek could offer.
Really, these folks are amazingly extreme.
With that sentence I knew with every inch of my heart that I wanted nothing to do with any group involving that guy.
He spent most of his night with his arms crossed correcting minute details folks were getting ever so slightly wrong.

Another guy, whose outfit was something of an anomaly, looked a bit like Gene Hackman, and spent his night making shitty jokes and laughing horribly at them while everyone else gritted their teeth.
Nice guy - don't get me wrong - but these are the folks I was screening.
As much as it would be appreciated to join any game, you certainly have to be selective when you're giving 4-6 hours a week to these folks.
I guess it's enough to say that common interests sometimes aren't enough to hold folks together.

Somethings are easy.
Acting like a bitch isn't really one of them, but that's the plan.
While it helps to vent, I can't help but think I sound like a toolbox.

Am I out of line in being angry about my girlfriend going to the daterape venue without me, and possibly meeting up with the kid who used her to attack me?

Of course, I'm only not going because he'll be there.
I'm just not ready to be civil yet.
I'll need another few weeks to let the anger be replaced by impartiality.
Honestly, I thought I was there until she told me she asked that boy about tickets.

It's a very odd thing to me to witness and be victim to the deceptive machinations of this boy, and still see people unwilling or unable to cut the ties.
What is the motherfucking threshold that has to be crossed before you realize the shittiest part of your life is another human being?
It's harsh to say about my once best friend, but it only took a single sight of his true colors to enable the truth that he is nothing more than a frightened, mean, little boy unwilling to handle his own shit so he lashes out with extremely poor taste.

Like I said, I'm just not ready to be civil yet.
;)

Tension and turmoil and tossing sleep and turning stomachs.
It's been one hell of a week followed by what promises to be an identically opposite long weekend.
That is to say, I'm looking forward to it.
Monday is off and Roger Lael Mason the motherfucking Third is in LA for Saturday and there just could be some afternoon drinks in the yard slated for Sunday.
It'll be good fun.
Oh, I'm rapid cycling on top of it.

It's funny because just yesterday I was in the car thinking how seldom I consider being bipolar any more.
As it turns out, with a good diet, infrequent drinking habit, steady income, and healthy relationship it's a whole lot easier to be stable.
It's not to say the ups and down aren't a normal thing for every human, or even that I don't have them anymore, but they seem to be more manageable.
Today is different.
I've gone through at least 4 cycles of ups and down since 8 this morning.
From the verge of tears an hour ago to my elation at the beginning of this paragraph, I've been really all over the damn place.

I know the cause, and I expect a solution very, very soon, which is why I'm sanguine about this weekend.
All of a sudden I'm hoping that my expectations aren't just another peak between 12 and 12.
My guess is Bullet for My Valentine thinks it'll be fine too.
;)

The Summary:
My best friend is a dirtbag.
I tried defending his dirtbag actions - that is, I called him a dirtbag but don't care as long as he doesn't involve me.
He didn't hear me out until the vindicating part, got pissed, and poured a drink on my head.
He attacked me a few nights later via text.
I attacked back.
He used the woman I love as ammunition.
He even tried challenging my trust in her.
Best friend who I was willing to let become a mere friend was pegged three lower to human I no longer acknowledge.
I am trying to confide in Caroline but she is clamming up because she doesn't want to be involved.
I cannot internalize (haha, blogged!), and am currently taking umbrage with her not letting me get it off my chest.

We will work this out tonight.
I've got my lines prepared.
AHEM:
"It's alright if you don't want to weigh in with any opinion, and if you just want to steer clear. I can respect that, and I'm willing to let it all go and have it be a non-issue if you can give me a single round of venting. Let me be angry. Lend me your ear, but not necessarily your opinion. I want it done and behind me as much as you do. I know that it's my fight, and I can keep it that way, but as my girlfriend I need you to let me explode your ear just once. My best friend betrayed me with an unforgivable act, and the woman I love, the woman he involved, needs to hear me out while not making me feel like an asshole for bringing it up."

Sound pretty good, right?
I know.
I wrote that shit.
All I need is one fucking round of expressing how much of an asshole I think this kid is, and I'll move forward.
Oh, I also really want to hear from her that she is going to not only steer clear of the drama, but also of this kid.
I reckon, if he's willing to use Caroline against me he'll use me against her, and I'm just not willing to let a third party pull strings in my relationship.

It's been a day.
I spent last night and last night's hangover at her house.
I was too spent to care.
We discussed what happened, and it was fine on the surface.
I didn't sleep well, and woke up sick - something between terrible heartburn and nausea.
I'm thinking dehydration and anxiety.

I spent the day alone at home, and it was pretty awful.
I can't get past it yet.
We're chalking a lot of what happened Saturday night up to booze, booze, and more booze, but why do I remember so clearly?
While I was drunk I very much believed I did something wrong, but as the day went on I'm coming to realize that I have nothing to be sorry about except her reaction to my sneaking up.
I told her I wouldn't apologize for what I did only what came of what I did.
I explained to her that I dressed up to sneak up on the kid she was trying to call back, but should have just left alone.
She needed to take my side, and all would have been good if she had just let the asshole go.
Granted, it was pretty fucking bizarre of me to dress up to sneak up, but I'm just a weird guy, and that's nothing for which I can apologize.

It was her reaction that still troubles me.
The whole thing started when my asshole friend poured a drink on me before I could finish the point I was trying to make.
She got him on the phone begging him to come back and hear the rest of my opinion which would have vindicated both he and I.
I'm having a really hard time understanding how she could be so adamant about getting him to hear the rest but when it was her turn to listen she did nothing but run.
She ran from me, and I'm nothing but angry about it.
I'm not sure what that makes me.

Brian!
Yeah, Brian K C.
Yep, you.

Remember that conversation we had years ago in Bascom about how silly it was of the movie Blade to illustrate that a fledgling like Deacon Frost could ever battle the will/strength of the vampric elders?
Yeah, silly as hell.
That vamp would be dust in a matter of seconds regarding his insubordination.

Moving ahead, I've been at that HBO program named True Blood.
Skipping most of the diatribe, it's an enjoyable show filled with more entertaining supporting cast members than lead members, but that, I suppose, is the crux of the issue...
For real, the supporting cast is amazing and true to blood (seewhatididthar?).
Erik (Eric?), for instance, was a viking turned by what he described as "Death".
That character, Erik, is endlessly fascinating with his distant, manipulative, truly immortal nature while the main character vampire, Bill, is constantly wrapped up in his love with the female, telepath lead.
His protection and desire for her is tedious to the point of being worse than the worst anime lead.
(Good gravy the Japanese have a penchant for creating a lead without backbone. re: Neon Genesis Evenagelion)

That's it, isn't it?
Why would a vampire ever have a proclivity to protect a mortal?
Skip that, why would a vampire, or immortal, have any desire to protect anything besides themself?
I think the author of True Blood, and even Rice with her wonderful Lestat, miss one fundamental point of all immortals: they don't care because they really, really don't have to.

Consider for a second being without the restraint of humanity.
Consider that you don't have to have a child by 30 because you will live indefinitely.
Consider that wealth is a trivial thing of those who perish.
Consider, like Lambert of Highlander, that love is fleeting, reckless, and frivolous.
I'm just not sure modern fiction authors know or appreciate that what my friend Brian explained to me one day in Bascom Hall.

Brain said, and I don't quote, that elves (regarding DnD) have no desire or impetuousness or the haste that humans do because they have so much longer to consider their creations.
Like dwarven armorsmiths, their craft is so much better because they don't have the human constraint of being on the face of the (whatever) for only 80 years.
They can afford to take their time.

This is why I'm perplexed by True Blood.
Why the shit would Bill, or any vampire, ever put their unlife on the line for a mere mortal?
As endless beings, I always reckoned self-preservation would be paramount.
Why the shit would any endless being give a good (ungood) God damned about a bag of perpetually rotting flesh?
After all, that's all we are - perpetually rotting victims of entropy.

And that's where Rice and the author of True Blood and the creator of Highlander and Blade's maker fail with their presumptions - nobody knows how immortals consider the world.
With my knowledge of WoD (World of Darkness) and D&D (fuck you, you know what that is) I always figured that immortals are so far from mortal that they haven't the concern or the consideration for mortal life .
Think for a second, and I have sought professional advice on this, how a human with X days to live considers his or her life.
Chances are more than likely that he or she seeks to create amazing last days on Earth.

Let's say you haven't an end of days.
Lacking the passion to make your mark in the limited time you have; you have to consider that love would be nothing more than a novelty.
As an immortal, you'd do it just to see if you could create that fiction.
Chances are that you wouldn't have passion about much of anything except for furthering your own ends.
Vampires, by nature, must be manipulative and deceitful and dispassionate.
A day to them would be a lifetime to us.
How could they possibly care?
Isn't that the folly of the mortal mind considering the immortal.

It's a quarter to 11 on a Sunday morning.
I've been doing very bad about not driving drunk in that I found myself in a fight regarding the woman I love and her desire to leave my presence.
She called cab, and in some sort of poetic measure I drove her bag and belongings back to her house without the dear woman.
Stupid. As. Fuck.
(Though, drunk driving on the winding roads of coastal towns is, embarrassingly enough to admit, very entertaining.)
Through three cops and a huge amount of lanes I couldn't keep myself in, I made it to the desired (undesired considering the circumstance) locale, and I dropped the bag in the doorway.
I suppose at this point I want to pat myself upon the back with hilarity, and say that I actually went in and brushed my chompers.
Nothing like driving drunk to the house of a girl you love who is running in fear from you, and going in and brushing your fucking teeth.
Out of all the stupid drunken nonsense including her running in literal fear from me nothing is more creepy and warranting her fear than me going inside her house and brushing my teeth.   Ha. Ha. Ha.

So... the lead up... for official record...
A friend of mine has been scandalous, manipulative, and an asshole.
It came up last night, and without the filter of sobriety I let him have my version of the truth.
He didn't take to it well, and poured a drink on my head before throwing a glass of mine against a wall.
The woman I love - and still do - tried calling him back as he fled, and was pleading with him on the phone to get him back to the yard where he had already poured a drink on my head and shattered glass against a wall.
I attempted to get her to let him go - to let him blow off steam and sober up, but she stayed on her course about calling him back.

This is where it gets simultaneously awesome and awful.
I crept inside while she was on the phone, and I put on dark clothing.
I sneaked outside a different door to see if the human, who had previously been aggressively drunk, was in the yard.
I was in the shadows in dark clothing, and apparently scared the shit out of my woman.
Her, being on par with drunk enough to pour a drink on your best friend's head, got so scared she ran off.
She literally ran off and called a cab.
She wouldn't let me near. 

And we're at where I began.
Tears, fears, and drunk driving.
What a stupid situation.
I just got off the phone with her, and she invited me over.
It will be fine.
As stupid and as apologetic I was for dressing up like a -ninja- and scaring her, I made her apologize for running off like I was a fuckass leper, douche, mutant.
I made her apologize about seemingly (while drunk) taking the side of the human who poured a vodkacoke upon my skull and shattering its vessel upon the wall.
Defend my honor not, but do not appease the belligerent human who stormed from my yard.
I disguised myself to avoid a facepunch.
I disguised myself, oddly enough, because I was reading of gnomes and their sneakiness earlier that night.
To horrific results, it worked. 
I never really thought I had it in me to be creepylike and sneakylike.

Ha. Ha. Ha.
Is it wrong of me at this moment to be really proud of the fact that I can creep like no other?
If anything good came of it, I'd say that it's the discovery that I can lurk like no other.
It's very nearly encouraging.
I'm very nearly encouraged to go about the dark in night clothing and see what I can sneak up upon.

In the words of the master, the teacher, "Evil moves fast but good moves faster than light."
Oh, wait, that's not the Splinter I want...
Ahem... here it is: "Strike hard and fade away."

Yours truly and ninjalike,
Herv "I'm in your shadow, but I'm sorry because I love that woman so God damned much" Harper

I got the car.
I'm paying much more than I thought I would have to, but I bought an expensive car on less than sturdy credit.
Apparently, nobody like financing folks that file 1099 in April. That being said, I still signing on for the best rate offered yet, but the car was still more than I had planned on spending.
However, I did get the Hybrid, and I was doing 38 miles to the gallon on the way home and around the city afterwards.
I'll save about a grand a year in gas, and get some tax credits in April, so it's really more of an investment to save money later.

I'm mostly glad it's over.
Well, it's over after 66 months.

I'm buying a car tonight.
After long consideration I can't possible justify getting an 8 cylinder full-sized sedan. It's just too irresponsible.
I'm opting for a mid-sized hybrid sedan - the Nissan Altima.
I think it's a slick looking car.
It has lots of buttons and bells and whistles, and the gas mileage is 2-3 times better than the 300's. 17/25 versus 42/36 (old rating... cars older than 2007 had their MPG adjusted to the standards of the 2008 and newer models... New rating is 36/34, and I shudder to think what the 300's new rating is... something like 15/22).

I'm working with this used car dealer right now. I think the rate I'll be paying is a bit high, but the price is the best in the region/nation.
I dare you to find a hybrid under 20k.... he wants 17.8k.
If I can get him to knock another 1-2 thousand off the damn thing I'm there.

Meep Meep.
Oh, it's not as fuel efficient as the Prius, but it's also not as gay looking.
For real. It's pretty slick.

I'm in the process of looking for a D&D game in my area. I really do miss the nerdery...
It's amazingly fun, though it gets a bad rap for absolutely no reason beyond high school mentality. For instance, I told my girlfriend's roommate that I was reading the new Player's Handbook, and he said something to the effect of, "you shouldn't tell people that." Why not?

He's a good guy, but it seems he's stuck with a rather unfortunate prejudice. Not to pass judgment, but a guy who was still drunk from the night before really has no place criticizing how others spend their nights. I would know this first hand, as I've done my share of both Dungeons and Dragons and waking up drunk.

Years earlier, at a weeknight poker game, a friend of mine said the word, "falconry." I instantly recognized this as a word that is so seldomly used outside of nerdy ass pursuits. I learned that word as a skill in 2nd edition Dungeons and Dragons as a teenager, so I called him out on it, and he too had learned it during his short stint as a 2nd edition Wizard. I think he was rather embarrassed, but I quickly defended him by contrasting the merits of any table top RPG versus something as shallow as poker.

Hey, hey, nothing against poker. It's not my game, but I can appreciate your enjoyment. I was merely making the case that both games require in-depth thinking, the use of math and have a fantastic social aspect to them, but only one flexes your imagination in addition. Also, in poker you're mostly looking ahead to the end of a hand (admittedly, I don't know enough about poker to know if there are strategies regarding long term play - there probably are), but with table top RPGs your character (you) might be planning something that won't see fruition for months if not years - not in game time, but in real time. Those games can last years.

Truth be told, I do find myself avoiding telling folks that I enjoy the game. It really just saves a lot of hassle. I wouldn't say I'm ashamed or embarrassed, but it's more than difficult to sell people on the idea, and it just isn't worth my time. In the case of Caroline's roommate, I told him and joined in with making jokes about it. It really is easier that way. Also, if you just leave it at "gaming" instead of specifically mentioning which game, people tend to be more accepting. We used to game on Sunday nights my last years in Madison, so I'd just tell the boys and girls that I was off gaming that day and night. Of course, as good friends (I had the fortune of living with good pals that last year) they never gave much hassle.

Not trying to make a sweeping statement, but I'm certainly tired of hearing these bullshit judgments. Why shouldn't I tell people I enjoy Dungeons & Dragons? Again using Caroline's roommate as an example, he's in a band. I think it's great he's in a band, but I don't like the music he makes. In fact, I don't much care for the entire social clique that music is catered towards, but I keep that shit to myself because it has no influence or impact on my life. At least he could do what any normal person would do, and wait until he's near his like-minded close friends, and make fun of me then.

With that in mind, I've done more than my share of judging folks on what they do. To my defense, I'm getting older and finding that folks are not a sum of what they do or listen to or watch or read, but they are just folks. These days, I either like or don't like the things the do, but it in most cases (ideals are another story) it doesn't alter my opinion of those folks. For instance, I think ravers and sports fans alike look like complete twats when they don their event costumes, but I am happy that someone is doing it, and would talk to any of them all the same because I appreciate their enthusiams. Perhaps I've always done this, but am just now coming to the realization of it. By no means am I completely impartial and nonjudgmental, but I am getting better.

Footnote: I should add that I don't think Caroline's roommate will treat me any differently now that he knows I play the nerdy shit, but he wasn't the last person to annoy me with anti-RPG sentiments. Had I said it was a Halo manual I was reading he would have said nothing at all.

An update.
Many of us are feeling LJ fatigue, but I have no personal doubt I'll be revitalized at some point, so I'll keep this thing limping along until then.

I got shingles.
No shit.
Well, nobody is entirely sure about what I have. One girl thinks it's herpes simplex, but a few others (including myself) think it's shingles. 
No matter what it is, it's behind my right ear and incredibly painful.
I'm on Valtrex (herpe meds), an anti-biotic, and Vicodin.
Understandably, there was a bit of pain to my pride, as nobody wants to admit they have herpes. It's one of those things you never really want to say, but once you do, and tell a few folks, it gets a whole lot less scary.
Hell, shingles is just amped up chicken pox with a scary name: herpes zoster.
At this point, I don't much care about what it's called I just want it to go away, as the most intense pain I've felt in my adult life has accompanied it.
Luckily, it was sporadic.
Tingling, another symptom, has actually been rather pleasant, though I originally thought it was a maggot of some sort burrowing into my skull-flesh.
:)

I'm about 500 shy of the down payment on a car.
I'm super stoked.
I was originally shooting for August 1st, but I might just wait until my first check in August, as to not completely wipe me out financially.
I'm hoping with the current state of the economy I'll be able to bully the Chrysler dealer into a wicked good deal.
I'd like to finance no more that 15k.
I've got my Blue Book price, and I'm offering 20% less.
I'm going to try to get them to include taxes, tags, and fees in the sticker price.
Hell, I'd pay sticker price if they included that shit... it would basically be the same thing as 20% less Blue Book price.
I'll probably be able to stick with my guns, as I don't see this climate being one where mid-sized sedans are flying off the lot.

I went through the arduous process (LOL... it was actually nothing more than a few clicks online) of cleaning up my credit in hopes that it'll save me thousands of dollars in interest over the 60 month loan.
As it turns out, I'm current on everything I owe, though my credit report still has a few blemishes from credit cards that went to collections.
I even paid $600 dollars in MG&E bills from 2005.
If you've been following along that means I would already have the money for the car, but I opted for some responsibility instead.
Good for me.

I really feel like credit knowledge is one of the things they really ought to teach seniors in high school. If I knew then what I know now chances are I still would have gone solidly into debt - irresponsibility is irresponsibility - but at least I would have known how to sort it out to my benefit instead of living life in fear of the unknown financial world.

Of course, all this business is all just a future investment.
Cleaning up credit to get a car just means I can move in with my gal with the ability to travel to work.
This probably means lower rent, as I can move inland.
Lower rent means more money, as does living with my girl.
All this money being saved is to go towards schooling of some sort, though I still don't know what I'd like to learn.
Also, cleaning up credit makes me eligible for financial aid, and having a car means I can get to school no matter where I live.
The little woman is looking into a medical trade school for surgical assisting, but I think I'll shoot for a B.S. in something.
Archeology?
Politica Science?
History?
Maybe I'll just shoot the moon and go for a Ph.D. in Nuclear Engineering.
 

In honor of the King of Pop passing I am devoting 7 weeks of my blog to nothing but King of Pop blogs.
Wait... I think I'm a little late with this joke.
Nevermind.

I told a friend of mine that Asher Roth's "I Love College" is the single worst song I've ever heard.
I very briefly considered that I was being melodramatic, but upon giving it a full listen moments ago I'm going to stand by what I said.
Asher, who I called a demagogue and further compared him to Ann Coulter, does nothing for me, and his song is nothing but insipid dribble focused solely at drunk, white morons.
Hey, that's my opinion - have one of your own.

My friend, getting back on point, apparently didn't take to my attitude so well.
He said that when I talk about thing like Asher Roth's song he can tell I'm full of spite and thusly full of hate, and he wishes that I just, "loved more," and, "loved everything."
Now, I'm not going to charge him with saying these things in that, "love everything, man," hippy sort of fashion, but he is an overly optimistic guy. In fact, that's part of the reason I like the kid - he's genuinely positive about most things. I think it's a good trait to have in a friend especially if you don't carry it.

Upon his request for me to love more, etc., I told him, "that [sort of behavior] would be disingenuous to who I am."
The fact is, I'm just not that cheerful of a fellow.
I mean, I can be, but it's not the way I am 365 days a year. That's just the way it is, and I really have no problem with it.
I don't consider myself any more or less cheerful than any other 28 year old, manic-depressive, white male.
I further told him, quoting Rollins, "A good healthy level of hate is always good to have on hand at all times."
 

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He shrugged a bit and said, "It's not that fun to hang out with someone so negative."
I view this as a sort of shot at me.
There could be a time and place to hear something like that, but I'm calling it a shot as it was when we were leaving the bar at 1 a.m. on a Saturday night.
I reckon, if you're looking to have a constructive conversation with someone tackling topics like that you really ought to set some time aside during the sobering hours to handle heavy-handed slings like that.
Personally, I think it speaks volumes towards our friendship consider I didn't tell him to fuck straight off right there.
I simply patted him on the back and walked out.
It seems I'm learning to be more even handed even after a few million beers.

I'm figuring there really is no point to this story, but it's helping to throw it down here to make a little more sense about it.
I would like to delve into love v. hate but that's a whole lot more fun of a conversation live.
I suppose it's enough to say that sunshine/daisy folks confuse the hell out of me, but they start making more sense when you consider them blindly cutting the negative things out of their life.
Just turn off the news - it's never good.

You've got to wonder if the information gained by, "Enhanced Interrogation Techniques," is at all valid.
In my amazingly unprofessional opinion, it seems that folks would say whatever would make the torture stop - possibly making shit up if they had to. 

Take a guy like Dick Cheney, a guy who has no regrets for signing off on torture, or any other mouth piece for the defense of torture, and stick them under the bucket.
How long do you think it would take to get them to admit it's wrong or express shame or guilt about using such means?
How long would it take, you know, even if they really don't believe anything is wrong with it.

I just wanted to hop on real quick for a bit of humility.
Skipping all rhetoric or cliches, it's enough to say I'm hardly much different than ever.
I nearly had a meltdown after a few beers about perceived lack of eye contact between Caroline and I.
I still play the same old clam up and hook up the silent treatment, but to my credit when she finally asked what was wrong I told her, "it was nothing that won't be fixed in the morning."
She pried, I admitted, and ultimately had to backpedal.

Sometimes, you just have to admit you're looking for a fight.
Pretty fucking slick, ya know?
 

H: I'm really glad none of our friends get super offended by 9/11 jokes.

S: Actually, Harvey, I do.

H: What!? You just made a 9/11 joke! No, wait, that was me...