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A Whole Lot Of Illegal Recordings Get Reviewed! [Nov. 10th, 2004|12:46 am]
[mood |shut up.]
[music |none, jesus, no more music today]

So I've been on a downloading spree recently, just thought I'd give you a heads up on the shit that doesn't matter at all, because it's just pretty much bad.

The CD that brought this on was the new A Perfect Circle CD ("Emotive"). I'd actually been waiting a while for this to come out, not realizing that it was actually just a bunch of covers (not that something like that really bothers me too much, seeing as how I'm actually quite the fan of Me First). Once I had found out, though, instead of actually buying the CD like I was planning, I downloaded it all thanks to the wonderful world of slsk. So I listened to this CD once while I was working (I usually consider it a good test as to whether or not I'm actually going to enjoy the CD when concentrating on it, since if it can catch my attention while I'm doing something else, there's a good chance that I'll like the way it sounds when really listening), and it never really caught my attention at all - it's not that I was trying to force it or whatnot, it was all just kinda... bland (ESPECIALLY for Maynard). I'd heard the "Imagine" cover and watched the music video with it, and was pretty impressed, but, in all honesty, the music video adds a lot to the song, and without it there, the song was really lacking. As for the rest of the album, it's mediocre, at best. There are a few tracks that are fairly decent (can't go wrong remixing one of your songs from the last album, and giving it a huge name...), but overall, a lame duck. It's not even like their last album, where, if you didn't really dig it at first, you could listen to it, and it grew on you (in a good way, not the KROQ way). After listening to it, and listening to the meaning behind the entire album, I didn't feel the sudden urge to fight my government (at least not anymore than I'd felt originally), and it just makes me sad that Maynard (who we all know can do some pretty magnificent work, as seen with Tool, and even earlier APC) of all people would use this as a cop-out. Making money by relasing a political CD during election time is fine with me, but not at the sacrifice of talent. I think because I've seen what he has been able to convey through music in the past, this is just a huge disappointment - that he would willingly take the lyrics of others, instead of creating his own, definitely leaves something to be desired. Yes, it's true that sometimes it's been said before, and maybe it just needed to be updated for a modern crowd, but coming from a guy who was able to create music that states "fuck your god, your lord, your christ" and get it played on almost all the radio stations across the country, it just didn't seem like he'd be one to let others speak for him. 4/10

Another CD I've now listened to all the way through a couple of times now is the new Eminem ("Encore"). I didn't even know he was coming out with a new album, but hey, I figured I'd give it a listen, and, even if I don't really like the guy, he does have quite the way with words - and he's pretty much done it again on this album. Due to the total lack of remotely talented rappers, this'll probably win all the freakin' awards again, but hey, he's good at what he does. As usual, the CD has a couple of tracks that you know are on their way to the radio (like the one they play now - whatever that dance one is called) - but the best of the CD always comes with the tracks that will get no air time, either because of language, or general content (see: "Rainman" or "Big Weenies"). I dunno why, but even with this CD, something was missing - I guess making money calms even the most foul mouthed assholes. Although there's a definite lack of "asshole-ish-ness" that was found in his other albums, it's still far above the average hip hop album, and definitely worth a listen. 7/10

Well, I've been on a rap kick recently, and just got the Talib Kweli's cd "The Beautiful Struggle" - It's pretty awesome, but I think that's because I dig his voice. His rhymes sometimes lack, but this is either his first or second album, so I'm willing to give him a little more time to grow into the something awesome that he'll no doubt be. This isn't gonna be a long review, since it's 1:20am, and I'm fucking tired, but let's just say that with the help he's gotten from Kanye, this is a pretty awesome album. 7/10

There's more, but I'm tired, and was really only doing this to kill some time.

screw you all!
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"it's not the right time to be sober, now the idiots have taken over" [Oct. 8th, 2004|11:05 pm]
[mood |shut up.]
[music |NOFX - Idiots Are Taking Over]

 fuck it -

I think we all know who to vote for on November 2nd.

Pedro offers you his protection.

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An Anomaly Wrapped In An Enigma Covered In Estrogen [May. 31st, 2004|03:18 pm]
[mood |shut up.]
[music |Blonde Redhead - Misery Is A Butterfly]

All girls like Nine Inch Nails - Closer. Even the girls that are into the entire "I <3 N'Sync & BSB." It's fucking amazing. I dunno if it has to do with the lyrics (animal fucking? Feeling from the inside?) or the beat or something else entirely that I don't know about - but all I can say is kudos to the female population for their awesome taste. Even if it is just a way to let their hormones rage subtly.

Anyhow. Just an FYI to all the people who are fairly new to driving stick: Don't go near the fucking La Cienega/Sunset intersection. It's bad news. (45 degree hill with a stop light at the top? What? Sounds like fun!).
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UCI and how it likes to fuck you over - an addendum [Mar. 21st, 2004|11:01 am]
[mood |shut up.]
[music |Cursive - Harold Weathervein]

For those of you somehow concerned with how my awesome, inspiring story of UCI and its greatness concluded, here's how it went down. Brevity is not my strong point, apparently:

Last I left off, I'd just gotten a drop card signed by Neha, or the Dean, or whoever's considered "the guy BEHIND the guy." This was on Wednesday. At this time, I still had some sort of slight hope that I could talk to someone who gave a shit as to what I had to say.

Laugh with me (or at me), feel free, I know it's funny to ask so much of a school that I give assloads of money to every ten weeks. I blame the awesome professors that I get every goddamned quarter, I'm sure they're worth a lot of money - there's no way to consider these jackoffs glorified high school teachers. Hmm.

Anyhow, Friday rolls around and naturally, nobody's returned my phone calls, attempted to email me, send me a fucking telegram, nothing. So I walk into the administration building with my little red and white paper of freedom. I got to the cashier, who checks it out, and charges me three dollars to get out of a class that they forced me out of. That's fine, though - it's to be expected from a school filled with ignorant assholes (staff? faculty? what?). So I walk over to the other group of tools that you have to speak with in order to get anything done. I can't remember what title they give themselves (self-important? a bit - I just know they're pros at getting those add/drop cards lined up so the machine can do the rest.). So I walk up to whatever window - window one, I believe - and there's this guy training a new girl to be a tool. I have a feeling what went down next most likely wouldn't have happened, had this trainee not been there, but hey, I could be wrong. So I'm at the window:

Me: I need to drop this class
Him: Ok..
::Hand him the card::
::He's checking the card, and his little calendar, and is pretending to do something, instead of scanning it like a good little worker monkey::
Him: We can't accept this.
Me: ...
Me: What?
Him: The Dean's signature is only good for three days.
Me: No fucking way.
::I take the card back from him, where it reads the 16th (this will be important later.)::
Me: What the hell do I have to do to fix this?
Him: You're going to have to go back to the Dean, get her to change the date, and initial the change.
Me: Goddamn.

So I take my card and walk out. Amused by the fact that not only is UCI kicking me OUT of this class, at the same time I can't LEAVE the goddamned class. Oh, the irony is so thick you can cut it with a spork.

Naturally, the counseling office is closed for their two hour lunch on friday, meaning that I'm now waiting an hour and a half to get an initial I could've probably forged (not that I would ever do such things. barf.) - we'll fast-forward thru this as well, and up to the point where I'm talking to the lady at the counter of counseling:

Me: I need to get this drop card re-dated so the tool at the admin building will stop giving me shit.
Her: Hmm.
Me: Who knew getting something signed on Wednesday wouldn't count as three business days..
Her: Yeah.

Then Neha walked in a few minutes later and signed my card in about two seconds. This is the least amount of hassle I encountered through this entire awesome ordeal.

Before I conclude my story with the ending everybody no doubt sees coming, let me come back to the fact that I got my drop card signed on Wednesday, the 16th. Wait, shit, no, that's WRONG. Wednesday was the 17th. Apparently the dean signs a day behind, or lost track of the days, or something that involved me having to wait almost three extra hours overall when trying to get out of a class that was "illegal" for me to be in.

So I took my card back and dropped the class. On the last day of school. That's kinda cool, I guess. Well, at least it's cool compared to a hot chocolate enema or a mouth full of bees or something along those lines.
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UCI and how it likes to fuck you over [Mar. 18th, 2004|03:24 pm]
[mood |shut up.]
[music |NIN - Head Like A Hole]

If Holly can do it, so can I.

SO. Let me reminisce for a moment, I have to get that bitter taste in my mouth before partaking on this particular adventure:

Sometime around 3:00pm on my first day college, in my first ICS lab, working on my first program, I decided that my mind was not quite built to handle stupid fucking programming. Rather than getting out of the major like a good right-minded child, I stuck it out - assuring myself that as I picked up the language, good times would ensue.


Fast-forwarding through the crap and why I hate this ICS program (which I am still a part of! Yay!). We come to almost present day:

I'd decided that I'd just go for an econ degree, something general, but not general in the sense of psych, which, in the minds of many, including myself, is the fast food of college degrees (no offense to you Psych majors. Unless you tell me that Psych is hard. Then you should kill yourself. Analyze that, you asshats.). Why econ? It's pretty interesting. No, seriously. You can totally learn how to manipulate the spending habits of people, because they're goddamned sheep and the same patterns emerge over and over, time and time again. So, in essence, it's kinda like psych, because you're messing with people, but it involves money, and anything involving people wasting money, is funny (unless they owe you money, but at least you get to hate them if they don't pay you). Plus, econ just sets you up for grad school, which is awesome/lame. It's awesome because you don't have to think about what you're gonna do with your life for at least another year. It's lame because it's school, and school by any definition of the word is lame.

So end of last year, that was the plan, I was taking some econ classes, and doing ok, so I figured I'd go into the major...

Fast-forwarding again to last quarter:

I was taking my last two classes to get into this major - Econ 20A (THE MOST BASIC ECON CLASS. EVER.) and Math 2B (Hardcore calc - too much material for a 10 week course in honesty, but what're you gonna do). Taking the two more difficult classes in the Econ 20 series (B and C), I figured A would be mostly review. On the other hand, I was in 2B; the class that eats the souls of those unprepared and unmotivated. I weighed my priorities, and 2B obviously got more of my study time over 20A.

Fast-forwarding to the end of last quarter:

I'd talked to an econ counselor mid-quarter and put myself on track - all I needed were two B-'s in the classes I was in to get into Econ. Pretty good deal. I wasn't worried about 20A, but decided to really hit 2B hard to make sure I'd be good (hadn't done too hot on the first midterm).

Fast-forwarding to last quarter grades:

So I got what I needed in 2B: Got my B, good times
So I got a goddamned C(+?) in 20A. Gayer than AIDS.

Obviously I sign up to retake the class, because I'm not down with ICS.

Fast-forward to the middle of this quarter:

I get an email from some counselor in ICS. It was awesome. It was telling me all about how I couldn't retake the class that I'D ALREADY BEEN IN FOR FIVE WEEKS (that includes one midterm, five weeks of homework, and my second midterm later that week). It was in the handbook, they said. I begin to wonder if it was in the handbook five weeks ago, or if the class registration program knew the rules, because I sure as fuck didn't have a problem getting into this class for a second time. So now I'm trying to talk to someone. I go in and get an appointment with an Econ counselor again. I explain the situation and she whips out a piece of paper with two options on it:

1. Get a 2.7 in this certain spread of classes

2. Get an overall GPA of 2.7

As for option #1, that was my problem -> apparently 2.63 won't round up to 2.7. Goddamn.

But all hope was not lost! My overall GPA was over 2.7! Woo wee - And then the counselor took out her pen, crossed out 2.7, and put 3.0, simply saying "we're an impacted major now.". 2.7, yeah, I have that. 3.0? Nope! Totally shafted.

So I stay in this Econ class, and I do pretty awesome on the first midterm already, and I do pretty awesome on the second midterm as well. All the while, trying to get in contact with the dean of Social Science, who, apparently, DOES NOT EVER CHECK HER EMAIL. Awesome. So I call her office, and get her "assistant" who is trying to brush me off onto someone besides the dean:

Her: "we usually don't let undergrads see the dean"
Me: "well, that means sometimes you do, I'd really appreciate it if you could make this one of those times."
Her: "we usually recommend that you speak with the associate dean first."
Me: "and when they don't give me a straight answer, I can call back, and get a meeting with the dean?"
Her: "if they don't answer your question, then yes, feel free to call back and I'll see what I can do."
Me: "alright, can you transfer me?"
Her: "sure"
beep beep boop
AssDean: "this is my message service! leave me a message and I'll get back to you! I promise!"
Me: "I would like to speak with someone regarding Econ, here's my student number, here's my phone number. CALL ME ANYTIME."

It's been about four days. I think she lost my number.

Probably a day after I left this initial message, I get another email from Neha, the head counselor lady for undergrads in ICS. Apparently it's "illegal" for me to retake this class. I love it when people aggrandize what they're saying in order to "scare" me.

So on this last Tuesday, I go into the ICS office in order to get this drop card signed by the dean (I think Neha just does it in the back room when nobody's looking, but I could be wrong - I wouldn't be surprised if the dean of ICS was locked up in a cage, forced to sign drop cards - living off of bread crusts, rolling around in her own feces.) When talking to the guy at the front desk of counseling, I said "I know I can just get this signed, but I want to talk to Neha for a few minutes." He told me that would be fine and to put my name on the list.


The two people in front of me finish, and Neha takes my card and signs it and tries to brush me off. So I just start talking to her in the middle of the ICS counseling lobby with all these other people listening:

Me: "do you find it odd that you're basically rewarding failure?"
Her: "it's a rule I have no control over"
Me: "do you find it odd that I was in this class for five weeks before being notified that I wasn't allowed to retake it?"
Her: "it takes us a long time to go thru all our students, etc etc, blah blah"
Me: "why is there such a rule in place?"
Her: "I would guess to stop people from being able to go for A's, if they have B's"
Me: "that makes zero sense. You say it's ok to FAIL and retake a class, but if you want to better yourself, that's definitely bad? How is this asinine rule still in effect, I'm sure I'm not the only one who's been screwed by this blatant stupidity."
Her: "it's a rule that was put into effect by the heads of all the departments."
Me: "you do realize that I'm stuck in this major, that I have ZERO desire to be in, all because of such a stupid, antiquated rule, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it?"
Her: "yes, but again, there's nothing I can do about it, it was put into effect by people above me, the counsel at UCI"
Me: "that's nice, thanks a lot"

at which time I walked out.

Was Neha the one to get mad at? Not really, and I knew it, but someone was gonna listen to me vent, and after waiting an hour and a half to talk to her for FIVE MINUTES, and getting blown off, I figured it was as good a time as any. The coolest part was everybody around us, I was making them uncomfortable being so confrontational with Neha - it brought a tear to my eye ;_; (there was no screaming by the way, just a little bit of attitude).

Even if I have no chances of getting into Econ, which is what it looks like now, someone in that department is gonna hear what I have to say, and it's gonna be the goddamned dean.

Was it my fault I didn't get into Econ? Yeah, some/most of it was definitely my fault, sure I'm willing to accept the blame, but why does it feel like somewhere along the lines, I got totally raped by something out of my control?

Now I'm in ICS for good. I've looked over the classes I have left, and as for programming, it seems to have eased up a bit - there's really only a few more I have to do that are programming intensive. Woo.

1.3 more years until I'm leaving Irvine. The countdown to glory begins.

PS: No grammar check for you!
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(no subject) [Mar. 14th, 2004|05:44 pm]
[mood |shut up.]
[music |saves the gay + thursday + jimmy eat world]

I am more emo than Diane. 4 Lyfe. xXx

Note from Andy, the person who did not write this: Thursday isn't emo, and the only JEW around here is coming from your computer. Bitch.
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Note to Self: [Feb. 23rd, 2004|02:10 am]
[mood |shut up.]
[music |Deftones - Passenger]

Eating 6899034756 breadsticks from Oscars and watching Evil Dead, Evil Dead 2, and Army of Darkness back to back to back makes baby jesus cry.
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I'm A Saaaad Panda! [Jan. 15th, 2004|11:03 am]
[mood |shut up]
[music |Goldfinger - Spokesman]

Man, I had the worst day today, it was like, I saw this girl that I liked, and we totally looked at each other, and I was like… “maybe I should go talk to her today, yeah, I definitely will!” and I totally had it planned out, I was gonna go talk to her after fourth period PE (man, having PE in the middle of the day suxx, then you’re all gross for the rest of the day! LoL!). So the day was going by fine, and I was building up the courage to say something to my love (she doesn’t know yet! LoL!). So fourth period rolls around, and it seems to go by in a flash. After we’d all changed back into our normal clothes (PE clothes suk! LoL!), I was walking towards her, and she looked at me and turned around! :( - at least I think she looked at me :(. I’m so horribly depressed right now, nobody understands me! I’m contemplating suicide, because my love doesn’t feel the same as me ::sniffle::. Leave me alone! All of you! You can’t possibly know what I’m going through! I hate life! I’m going to go listen to The Cure all day today and cry in my pillow. ::sob:: Woe is me! I think I may just…

… wait just a goddamned minute.

This isn’t me, this is all of YOU. I can’t recall when this LJ crap began, but if I had to guess, it’d probably be around… freshman year of high school. Initially, I believed it to be a good idea. An online medium in which one could express creativity, ideas, events, etc etc. But alas, I seem to have given too much credit to the online community (consisting mostly of fucked up teenagers and pedophilic adults trying to convince the fucked up teens that their life would be drastically improved if they allowed the aforementioned pedophilic adults to stick their online penis into the teen’s online ass), because no longer is the LJ a forum for intelligent conversation (“no longer“ is probably giving the online community too much credit as well, I should probably be saying “never was”), but rather an html soapbox that is quickly turning this entire generation into a bunch of goddamned over-emotional pussies.

What brought this on, you ask? For years, I’ve been clicking on these links that people put in their AIM profiles - AIM profiles have their shit down, they don’t give you enough room to turn into an uber-emotional douchebag, but they do allow you enough room to link to a LJ, unfortunately – So yeah, back to me clicking on these links that always say something like “how was my day?” or “Woooo!” or “I <3 Boobs”, and all of the sudden, I’m whisked away into the world of someone’s stupid fucking problems that I don’t care about. If it’s not your boyfriend/girlfriend, it’s your parents, if it’s not your parents, it’s your best friend, if it’s not your best friend, it’s probably the person you’re currently stalking and can't muster up the courage to say anything to, you loser. What the hell happened to dignity? What happened to keeping what’s private, PRIVATE? Do you people no longer have any sort of candid feelings? Does it feel better when you vomit your emotional garbage all over a webpage for strangers to read? Does it make you feel important?

Please, don’t give me that shit about doing it for YOU. You’re not doing it for you, or you’d write in a freakin’ diary/journal with a PEN & PAPER, where you can hide your stupid crap from the rest of the uncaring world. Or, if you’re “too cool” for pen and paper, open up WordPad, write to your heart’s content click on file when you’re done, then go to “save as” and save it as “STUPID CRAP THAT NOBODY BUT ME CARES ABOUT” and place it in a secure place so you’ll always have somewhere to go when you get a little teary-eyed over you last meeting with the significant other.

Oh dang, here comes the comment I love to hear: “You don’t HAVE to read it!”

Yes I do. And here’s why. Unlike the 99% of you that make me want to stab you in the face after reading your LJ, occasionally a nugget of awesomeness/hilarity will slip by unnoticed by the masses too concerned with their own garbage problems. This is what makes reading all the rest of you people’s garbage acceptable (well, not that I really want to say “keep on doin’ what you’re doin’, but I assume you get what I’m saying). There are certain people that use LJ for what LJ SHOULD have been used for initially. Because it’s a written medium, people are able to spend time writing a story to go around their real life event, it’s not rushed or over-exaggerated as it is when telling it in person. People can think before they post, and it’s usually really goddamned funny/interesting.

I’m willing to bust out a few name that deserve mizzad prizzoppers for being interesting (OH YES, BY THE WAY, I READ THE MAJORITY OF MY LJ DRIVEL THROUGH HOLLY’S FRIENDS, SO IF I DON’T MENTION YOU IN THIS LIST, CONSIDER YOURSELF A LOSER): Jeff, Eamon, Matt F., Matt S., Crystal, Bernadeth (sorry if I spelled your name wrong, it always tricks me), Holly (about 3/4 of the time, it’s interesting rants/articles), Meredith (about 1/2 the time, it’s cosplay pics, and those are always good times), and last but not least, Holly’s new roommate Diane (Good music conquers all – even a shitty unreadable layout.).

Seriously, those are the only people that have had anything worth saying since the invention of the LJ journal. The rest of you need to take up a new form of self expression. Perhaps something that will never, ever, ever, ever, involve the term “you just don’t understand…” – Because hey, I probably do understand, because every single thing you feel, every single thing that happens to you, all of it, is all totally unoriginal. It’s been done so many times already that just you typing ANYTHING about it at all makes it more clichéd than the “you don’t understand” term itself.

There’s only two things on the planet that I can think of that “you don’t understand” can be applied to:

1. Girls cannot understand the pain of being booted in the nuts. Unless they’re packin’ guy and girl below the waist – hermaphrodite style (in which case, I guess you wouldn’t be a girl, but still close enough, I suppose).
2. Guys cannot understand the pain of childbirth. Goddamned glad I can’t ,either. Doesn’t seem like much fun to me. If I had to fathom a guess as to what it’s like, I would assume it’d be like a gargantuan poo that screams as it leaves your ass. Yeah, see, even my guess is stupid and wrong.

So this is getting retardedly long, and for that, I don’t apologize, because I’ve read enough of your crap to justify this monstrosity, and hey, at least mine’s entertaining. Not once have I claimed that you “don’t understand where I’m coming from,” nor have I said anything about any emotions, except the ones your LJ junkies spew at me on a continuous basis (except anger, I guess there’s some of that, even if I didn’t mention it specifically).

So in conclusion, a quick recap:

- Get a freakin’ life
- Get some friends
- Grow some balls (figuratively, ladies, I don’t want you to actually have balls, then I’d be down to one thing in my “you don’t understand” list. And then it wouldn’t be a list, and I’d look stupid.)
- Keep your shit to yourself, or perhaps to a closely knit support group (close friends and family ONLY, you whiny bitches)

And if you refuse to take my advice, get used to living in your parent’s basement until you’re 40, because you can’t handle the real world. Don’t worry, I’m sure The Cure will put out another Greatest Hits sometime soon. If not, you can always fall back on some really shitty emo.

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"You've Got Some Real Growin' Up To Do, Buddy..." [Dec. 7th, 2003|12:27 pm]
[mood |Shut Up.]
[music |Sneaker Pimps - Loretta Young Silks]

"... Suck My Balls."

So this is pretty old, and most anybody I know has already read it, but for those "internet friends" that apparently missed this, I shall repost. If you don't know who is who in the conversation, well, you're shit out of luck. Depending on the deep and ever-present unholy fire that consumes me when finals week rolls around, I might actually have things to post in here. You lucky bastards. Well, here you go.

Pridiantelos: I've come up with a startling revelation!

MinisterlnBlack: you love the cock?

Pridiantelos: well, there's no sense in rediscovering things, is there?

MinisterlnBlack: haha

Pridiantelos: Actually eating jesus is a lot like wearing huggies diapers.

Pridiantelos: I can prove it, too.

MinisterlnBlack: I'm waiting

Pridiantelos: well, you have the catholic church or whatever, and they are really big on this whole Corpus Christi thing.

Pridiantelos: at first, I thought corpus christi was some sort of saltine recipe.

MinisterlnBlack: haha

MinisterlnBlack: I'm intrigued

Pridiantelos: and that the whole church was a soup kitchen that only served saltines and booze to the homeless

MinisterlnBlack: go on go on

Pridiantelos: which made sense, because that's what the homeless eat anyway.

Pridiantelos: besides trash

Pridiantelos: ANYWAY...

Pridiantelos: but in actuality, the church is just PRETENDING to eat jesus.

Pridiantelos: bizarre as shit, eh?

Pridiantelos: who thought that a religious institution would condone the consumption of their idols?

MinisterlnBlack: hah

Pridiantelos: would you eat shiva?

Pridiantelos: fuck no!

MinisterlnBlack: hell yeah

Pridiantelos: hindus cant even eat cows!

MinisterlnBlack: she's hot in all those RPGs

Pridiantelos: hahaha

Pridiantelos: well, would you like... EAT her EAT her, not just EAT her.

MinisterlnBlack: hrm.

Pridiantelos: cows... are walking steaks!

MinisterlnBlack: get back to me on that.

Pridiantelos: and yet their religion prevents them from being eaten.

MinisterlnBlack: leather bags waiting to happen.

Pridiantelos: yeah

Pridiantelos: seriously

Pridiantelos: ANYWAY

Pridiantelos: so, this church has a main focus on PRETENDING to eat jesus.

MinisterlnBlack: ok

Pridiantelos: now, what if we happened to find jesus, intact, frozen in a block of ice while digging a pool in our back yard.

Pridiantelos: and we returned it to the church.

Pridiantelos: they would probably just dig in.

MinisterlnBlack: time to cannibalize!

Pridiantelos: exactly

Pridiantelos: HOWEVER

Pridiantelos: if we kept jesus to ourselves

Pridiantelos: and only ate him privately

Pridiantelos: we would REALLY be doing what the church is PRETENDING to.

Pridiantelos: now.

Pridiantelos: next point

Pridiantelos: you know videogames?

MinisterlnBlack: ok

MinisterlnBlack: videogames.

MinisterlnBlack: got it.

Pridiantelos: videogames are immature, because they don’t really have a direct effect on us

Pridiantelos: when we play videogames, we are not paying rent, or actually killing real nazis, or making dinner.

Pridiantelos: we're pretending

Pridiantelos: and it's accomplishing jack squat.

MinisterlnBlack: alright.

Pridiantelos: now, if we were to actually go out and pay that rent or kill the nazis, we would be being mature about it.

Pridiantelos: so, we get this analogy:

Pridiantelos: Eating Saltines is to Eating Jesus as Playing Videogames is to Reality as Immature is to Mature

Pridiantelos: now, when we superposition the last analogy onto the marketing campaign of Huggies (tm) Diapers

Pridiantelos: where the main focus is the transition from Immature to Mature, we can say that ACTUALLY eating jesus would be akin to wearing huggies diapers.

Pridiantelos: Q E MOTHER FUCING D.

Pridiantelos: +k

MinisterlnBlack: wouldn't it be the equivalent of growing out of huggies?

MinisterlnBlack: not necessarily wearing them

Pridiantelos: well..

Pridiantelos: well, in order to grow out of them...

Pridiantelos: you need to wear them

Pridiantelos: hmm..

Pridiantelos: interesting point.

Pridiantelos: how about this,

Pridiantelos: setting the table in order to eat jesus (or cooking jesus) would be akin to wearing huggies.

Pridiantelos: there

MinisterlnBlack: but the actual feasting on the body of christ would be the equivalent to moving onto whitie tighties

Pridiantelos: defiantly

Pridiantelos: I concur.

MinisterlnBlack: well then.

MinisterlnBlack: we're seeing eye to eye.

Pridiantelos: so then..

Pridiantelos: Deciding which fork to use to eat jesus is like wearing huggies.

MinisterlnBlack: nah, wearing huggies is like the bread and salad before the meal

MinisterlnBlack: getting ready for the main course

Pridiantelos: you think jesus would go with salad?

Pridiantelos: I've heard that humans are pretty salty.

Pridiantelos: I think a potato would go a little better.

MinisterlnBlack: I think he'd go with a 1000 Island dressing if he did go with salad

MinisterlnBlack: because it's kinda sweet to offset his saltiness

Pridiantelos: hmm..

Pridiantelos: now, here's the big slap in the catholic church's face.

MinisterlnBlack: of course the salad would be tossed.

Pridiantelos: what kind of wine? red, or white?

MinisterlnBlack: grape juice, of course.

MinisterlnBlack: jesus was on a budget.

MinisterlnBlack: I was surprised he didn't make his body out of chicken mc nuggets

MinisterlnBlack: I heard his original plan was to go to mc donalds on a tuesday and make all his disciples pay him gas money

Pridiantelos: well, the dipping implications involved in chicken mc nuggets would have gone well with the baptizing.

MinisterlnBlack: that way he could get the 99 cent six piece chicken mc nugget deal

MinisterlnBlack: yeah, there's a plethora of sauces

MinisterlnBlack: there's so much to read into!

Pridiantelos: obviously, the choice of wines will have to wait for a much later date

Pridiantelos: the first step is, of course, digging a pool ditch in your back yard.

Pridiantelos: call me when you find jesus

MinisterlnBlack: I hear he appears in tortillas n'shit

MinisterlnBlack: and in sweat stains on your shirt.

MinisterlnBlack: maybe I'll look there first

Pridiantelos: nonono

MinisterlnBlack: eating a tortilla jesus is much easier to think about than digging into flesh

Pridiantelos: we cant eat apparitions.

Pridiantelos: take off those diapers, soldier!

Pridiantelos: we will find jesus

Pridiantelos: and we will EAT HIM, you maggot!

MinisterlnBlack: I want to play my video games and kill nazis!

Pridiantelos: FINE.

Pridiantelos: I'll eat the son of god.

Pridiantelos: you, can wallow in your own shit for the rest of your life

Pridiantelos: but not me!

Pridiantelos: I'm going bipedal

Pridiantelos: I'm going free and easy

Pridiantelos: do you feel the pangs of mediocrity?

MinisterlnBlack: you're already easy.

Pridiantelos: do you have irritable spots in your life where you could just kill for a quick change and some talcum powder?

Pridiantelos: THAT'S the diaper rash of irresponsibility

Pridiantelos: of hiding from the truth!

Pridiantelos: I have seen the light!

Pridiantelos: and I WILL EAT JESUS

MinisterlnBlack: wallowing in shit is what makes life memorable

MinisterlnBlack: you don't remember the days that you stayed dry

Pridiantelos: man, that's negative.

MinisterlnBlack: but you'll always remember that day you had a blowout in your huggies

Pridiantelos: now I just want to throw things at you to improve your life.

MinisterlnBlack: besides, losing bowel control is good fun for everybody involved!

Pridiantelos: I somehow doubt that.

MinisterlnBlack: you're just in denial

Pridiantelos: I'm just withholding my projectile vomit.

MinisterlnBlack: would you rather projectile vomit or projective diarrhea?

MinisterlnBlack: the kind of poo that makes you wish you had handlebars on your toilet

Pridiantelos: well, if I had to choose between the two...

Pridiantelos: it would be...

Pridiantelos: vomit.

Pridiantelos: usually, once you vomit, it's over.

MinisterlnBlack: you have a fecalphobia!

Pridiantelos: no matter how bad, one and it's over.

Pridiantelos: with diarrhea, there is a high probability that you will see that porcelain landing strip a few times

MinisterlnBlack: perhaps.

Pridiantelos: and the anal burn involved in the jettison of volitile acids lasts days.

MinisterlnBlack: so bad you can taste it.

MinisterlnBlack: especially you, since you have your head up your ass!

Pridiantelos: not to mention the complications that viscous fluid imposes on standard wiping procedures.

MinisterlnBlack: booyah!

MinisterlnBlack: got the dig in!

Pridiantelos: ...

MinisterlnBlack: oh come on, you know it was well placed.

MinisterlnBlack: heh

MinisterlnBlack: ok, would you rather projectile vomit, or have a saltwater enema

Pridiantelos: yeah, like your mom is well placed in a welfare home or crack house.

MinisterlnBlack: DIS!

Pridiantelos: saltwater enema?

MinisterlnBlack: yeah

Pridiantelos: I'm afraid that projectile vomit wins again

Pridiantelos: I'm not much of a fan of searing anal pain

Pridiantelos: you can have as much of that as you want

MinisterlnBlack: ok, would you rather projective diarrhea or get a saltwater enema

Pridiantelos: diarrhea.

Pridiantelos: more familiar with it.

MinisterlnBlack: you'd rather have it coming out than going in, eh?

Pridiantelos: I've only had a saltwater enema 3 times

Pridiantelos: well, that's not the case with all things, andu

MinisterlnBlack: what if I replaced the saltwater with hot chocolate?

Pridiantelos: how hot?

MinisterlnBlack: it lives up to the name.

Pridiantelos: like, McDonnalds Coffee hot? or Luke Skywalker hot?

Pridiantelos: [note: Luke Skywalker is not very hot]

MinisterlnBlack: it's like... as hot as it would be seeing luke dump mc donalds coffee on his nuts after realizing he wanted to fuck his sister

Pridiantelos: I cant really ascribe a temperature to that particular situation

MinisterlnBlack: you know it's make you hot

MinisterlnBlack: real hot.

Pridiantelos: listen, it's my ass, I need to know how hot that chocolate is.

MinisterlnBlack: it's hot enough that you have to blow on it before taking a sip

MinisterlnBlack: but let it be known that there is also whipped cream on the top.

Pridiantelos: well then

Pridiantelos: while the whipped cream offers a soft, sweet soothing sensation on top of the 3rd degree rectal burns...

Pridiantelos: I'd have to choose diarrhea

MinisterlnBlack: 3rd degree might be a little extreme

MinisterlnBlack: it's probably only 2nd

MinisterlnBlack: slight blistering

MinisterlnBlack: nothing too horrid.

Pridiantelos: blisters, on my ass? not horrid?

Pridiantelos: what fucking planet are you from?

MinisterlnBlack: I would say right around the same amount of pain that would come from having bile spew from your ass

Pridiantelos: dude, not only ON my ass, but IN it too?

MinisterlnBlack: nah, after it hit ON your ass, it'd probably cool off a bit.

Pridiantelos: wait, so hot choclate going in would cause the same pain as shit coming out?

MinisterlnBlack: just about, yeah.

Pridiantelos: alright

Pridiantelos: hot chocolate.

Pridiantelos: it's cleaner.

MinisterlnBlack: good call.

MinisterlnBlack: glad we could have this little chat.
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Don't Cry Baby Jesus, I Already Know I'm A Hypocrite... [Aug. 23rd, 2003|03:45 am]
... So. I have a LJ now. It only took forever to get. And was it really worth it? Nah, it's pretty much the exact same thing I had before, but the reason I wanted it in the first place was to have a friends list. I like it when people I know read things I write, good times ensue. What I don't like is what most Live Journals/Blogs/Xanga/whatever the shit the rest of these stupid things are called - turn into (what they turn into - for those of you new to this game - is bitter, stupid, sappy, crap). My promise to you is that you won't hear about any of my stupid problems, won't hear about my wasted life (unless I can somehow amuse the masses with my pain - very possible), and certainly won't hear anything related to my teen-angst (you are the people who give teens a bad name! Shame on you!). I just plan on writing here instead of in a word document, because hey, I send you people my shit all the time (not recently, because my math classes as of late have made me their official "after-school bitch"). That's all. The only reason I really wrote this in the first place was to see how things looked posted on my little homepage (whee..), and I'll probably post some of my old stuff I wrote, like I've done previously, because I'm lazy and want to wallow in my last remaining weeks of teen-angst alone!
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