Great!

I feel paranoid about people watching me and collecting data on my feelings.

http://www.wefeelfine.org/
http://www.ted.com/talks/jonathan_harris_tells_the_web_s_secret_stories.html

People

In an effort to boost my drive towards a more productive lifestyle I have decided to compile a list of people who are more successful than I. Hopefully this will prove to my shattered ego that if these people can make it, then success can't allude me for much longer.

Barack Obama
Susan Sarandon
Aaron Burr
Tony Shalloub
Sigmund and Frued (before the tiger attack thing)
Billy Baldwin

Stunt Blog Day #1

Pros and Cons of Swallowing
My Gum

Pro
Less gum in my spittoon

Con
More gum in my colon

Pro
A feeling of completion. I often find gum to be the ultimate tease. It is just taunting you with the thought of digesting it.

Con
A feeling of choking.

Pro
I not only provide my mouth with fresh breath, but also my esophagus.

Con
I am not able to contribute to such public pieces of artwork as the "gum tree," the underside of a desk, and the back of a person's head.

Pro
Women find peculiarities like this attractive

Con
There are no women in this hell.

Anyone out there who even follows my blog in the slightest is aware of my affiliation with "How to Egregiously Prepare Split Infinitive Soup," a blog written by a delightfully charming Inuit man based out of North Jersey. Well, that very same man called me on a telephone yesterday. For the next month, he will write a blog a day, certainly a daunting task. I encourage all of my followers to head on over to his page and give the man a little support. As for me, I plan on staying tit for breast with him by updating this blog at least once a day. If I do not, I will make the ultimate sacrifice and give up my professional ambitions by closing the blog, burning my diary, and officially retiring my jersey number. The next 32 days will be grueling, exhausting, horrendous, terrifying, grotesque, vomit inducing, and diarrhea, but in the end I am sure I will emerge a hero. No! More the a hero. I shall emerge a God! So I challenge you Eskimo Guy! I challenge you to lose...oh...and I think you are gonna win that challenge relatively easily, because, you are good at losing.

Signing out. TF

Wikipedia burns me again.

My wikipedia page was once again rejected today. They sent me the infamous message...

"Your life does not concern anyone but yourself. Please stop trying to create a page detailing your time as the point guard for a basketball team which you refer to as the Los Angeles 'Lackers'."

Well I for one will not stand for this kind of treatment! If they can devote an entire page to "Welcome Back Kotter" in which they have extensive in depth analysis-es of the characters (including episode citations and bold print), then they can at least give me one little page.

As a result I have decided to wreak havoc once again on Wikipedia.

So head on over there and see if you can catch my vandalism...

hint hint a certain French Intellectual's page has a very embarrassing subject-verb disagreement on it now...haha I've done it again!

My Dream

I had this dream last night... I was walking through the hallways
of St. Paul; I couldn't have been more than
ten years old, my head barely above the
lowest tack strip on the light blue brick
walls. My fingers glided across the grooves
of the stone, moving up and down along each
indentation as I walked. No destination,
just walking. That's all I can remember doing
in those halls, never going anywhere, just
going. As I went along I would stop every
couple feet and pull a glop of ticky tack
from the blue bricks. Everyone would do that,
collect the putty from the walls, roll it
up into giant putty balls and chuck them
at each during class. It drove the teachers
crazy, no assignment ever hung on the wall
for more than a week. I reached the end of
the hallway and looked out those big steel
doors, pressing my hands and face against
the glass, feeling the warm sun beams as
they passed through the windows and fell
upon my skin. My eyes closed tight. I saw
it all, the soccer field, the playground,
the parking lot they would herd us all
together on like cows at recess, I felt
the cool breeze of the outside world,
that freedom. I opened my eyelids and
stepped back from the glass, when I
looked down I saw my hand was covered
with ticky tack. As I began to pick it
off, I realized it wasn't just my hand,
the goo covered my entire arm, and the
more I scraped and picked at it, the
more it spread, and soon I was nothing
more than a giant blob of putty standing
at the end of the hall. Stuck in place,
a crude monument of sorts, I had
nothing else to do but melt in the sun...

Fucking Kafka

I am ashamed to say it, but I had a cockroach problem recently. I didn't think much of it, and to be honest, I let the problem pass by. I figured as long as they stay in their space, and I stay in mine, there should be no problem. Well to my horror I awoke the other day from some unsettling dreams to find that my apartment was full cockroaches transformed into Franz Kafkas. They refuse to leave, and they have eaten all of my fruity pebbles. Sigh.