Spreading the word: "What is important?"

I read a compelling blog posted by a friend of my brother. Just to clarify, when the author refers to his friend, he is referring to said brother. I've corrected some typographical errors and bracketed the corrections. If you really want to read the original text (which aside from the corrections is no different), go to http://blog.myspace.com/murdoch001. So here it is:

It's a Saturday night and I have for once pulled ahead on my homework in order to spare some free time. My girlfriend is working now so I can't talk to her and I have no obligations. The result is being laid out before you. In a sense this will come across as a criticism or a complaint, but my intention is merely to offer a generalized suggestion based on some things I see around me. The motivation for this actually comes from a situation that a good friend of mine is in at the moment with his family. More than that, it is a situation which so many people deal with on a daily basis. It all stems back to selfishness I think. It's hard I understand to put others before yourself in fact it is borderline impossible. [Bear] with me, there will be no revisions of this…

To non-Christians,

I am sorry that we (Christians) set such a poor example of Christianity and mislead and sometimes hurt you. One thing you must understand is that we are not a religion but rather in a relationship with who we confidently and undoubtedly call Jesus Christ, the Creator [of] all things. This relationship does not mean perfection as human beings nor to we claim to be perfect. We have merely [acknowledged our] state as imperfect people who mess up every day and don't deserve to go to a place of perfection in the end. You see if we imperfect humans [were] to enter into a perfect heaven, it would be corrupted and no longer a perfect place. Since God is perfect and we are imperfect we do not deserve to be with God in the end of all things. A place which God does not exist is what we call hell. It is final separation from God. But that does not mean God sends people to Hell, in fact he wants all people to be with him, he loves us unconditionally, no matter what we do. He invites us all to be with him, and the only way we could be with him was if a human were to pay our price. Since we deserve death and Hell, we need someone to take that punishment for us. This is where Jesus comes in. He came to earth as a perfect human…and he was human, not just a superman. "For God so loved the world that he sent his only begotten son, that whosoever believes in him shall not perish but have everlasting life" (John 3:16). Because of this sacrifice we are capable of having the right relationship with Christ. But we have the choice to choose him or reject him. It is not forced on anyone. That's all it took for me, just to admit that I wasn't perfect and believe that Jesus paid that price for me so that I didn't have to go to [hell], and invite him to change my life and better it in preparation for heaven. I know this seems foolish to many, there is so much more than you can imagine, but you have to search for the answers. You can't be lazy when dealing with your life and death. Go find out, ask me, ask anyone, do some research. Prove me wrong.

I hope that you have been able to get through this so far without finding me boring or offensive in any way. I need these above ideas to be understood or you will find yourself judging myself, the situation I am referring to and Christians in general.

I do not need to go into detail on the situation which my friend is involved in. Those who are also involved know exactly what is going on, and those who don't can still benefit from my remarks. The basic idea is that my friend and his parents are having a disagreement that has extended beyond what the situation calls for. He is feeling hated and unwanted. He feels that he has no ability or freedom to make any decision on his own. He feels that the things he is asked to do are absurd and without reason. He feels that his parents are taking advantage of their parental authority. My friend is 20 years old and feeling locked into submission to whatever request his parents make whether morally right or not, whether biblical or not.

My friend's parents on the other hand seem to be struggling with letting go of their son. They are fearful that their son will make wrong decisions and be foolish. They are unsure if he is responsible enough or mature enough to handle life on his own. They fear that they are losing control and are feeling disrespected. This is my understanding of their view on this situation. I know my friend obviously better than his parents.

My friend sees his parents as too controlling and over protective. His parents seem to see him as defiant and irresponsible. The reason I am affected is because this has been going on for too long. This is not a clean fight. Suspicions of lies and deceit have entered the situation. I will not discuss my opinion because it will be unavoidably biased to my friend. I want to make a general suggestion to all parties instead, and as my bias directs the comments, I put the suggestion more to the parents.

I was reading through Ephesians tonight and something hit me. Read this carefully…

Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to his neighbor, for we are all members of one body. 'In your anger do not sin': Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold. He who has been stealing must steal no longer, but must work, doing something useful with his own hands, that he may have something to share with those in need. Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you (Ephesians 4:25-32)

Read it again if you did not get it. "In your anger do not sin". "Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry". Only let talk that will build another up come out of your mouth. "Get rid of bitterness". Forgive.

I do not care who is right or who is wrong in this situation anymore. There is no reason to have such battles in a family. There is no reason to have these battles among Christians. This is how we are labeled hypocrites. As Christians, we are watched and judged by non-Christians based on our actions. Sure we aren't perfect, but we must be mindful of who is affected by our example. What is the attraction to your relationship with Jesus Christ[?] Why would someone want to have what you have? You don't seem content.

I want to clarify something. This is not an attack on anyone involved in particular. This is a general statement and if you are offended you must be convicted of it and if so then you must read on.

To my suggestion,

Take Ephesians 4 to heart. This is not about holding to your position anymore. You do not have to be right. It now seems that we sometimes are willing to sacrifice relationships to defend our opinions. Failing to admit when you are wrong if this be the case is Pride. What is important now? When will this change? Is it not possible that there are mistakes in both parties?

I am done now. This may be just a rant. This may be inappropriate. Take it as you wish.

At any rate, I'm missing out on a party that I looked forward to for over a month, I'm not getting to see my friends who came home from school for the weekend just for this, and I basically feel like I've been screwed over completely by this whole situation. I'm tired of the constant presence of trouble in this family. Even on Christmas Eve we can't go without a huge fight over something completely trivial (see "The History of My Life" Volume 18, Chapter 12: December 2005). Maybe we all need to take a step back for a change and just chill out. Well, that's all for now.

The End

The Rules

I've always had my random rules for life, and I'm starting to apply them to school nowadays as I figure out what the existing rules are. I haven't really picked up on a whole bunch of rules, but in particular the shuttles have a certain code that passengers must follow. Of course I continue my policy of never being the first person to enter a classroom (or lecture hall, now that I utilize such rooms for learning purposes) and just grumbling about every minor inconvenience, such as the absolute, sheer, horribly massive weight of the doors on the Darrin Communications Center. If battering rams tried to bust through those doors, they wouldnt be able to. That's how heavy they are. But on to the shuttles, which basically have the only real rules I've picked up on. Basically this is how it goes: you get on the shuttle, make a two second (or less) scan of the seating arrangement. If there are plenty of seats, you sit down. If there are a number of seats open roughly equal to the number of people sitting, you sit, and try to avoid sitting next to some one, in much the same fashion as the 1-3-5 rule applies to bathrooms. If there are three or less seats (this goes for guys; I'm not quite sure about girls, but they're weird anyway so who cares?), you don't even think about sitting. Instead, you pick a spot, preferably NOT the railing attached to the ceiling, and stand up. Either the back window of the bag rack things they have right behind the drivers seat are good for this. Hanging on to the railing makes you look like a weenie, so the standard practice is to avoid it. If you have a seat on the shuttle, and a girl who isn't quite tall enough to reach the railing is standing, you yield the seat to her. This is part of a practice called chivalry, and it definitely applies on the Red Hawk Shuttle. So you're riding on the shuttle. If you've got a seat and there are no inconvenient girls standing, you keep the seat until you reach your destination. The practice for standing is as follows. If you are standing on the shuttle (preferably not holding the railing), you remain standing. When the shuttle stops and three people get off, under no circumstances do you sit down in a newly opened seat. This is a sign of weakness in shuttle riders. There are very few times when it is permissible to sit after a shuttle stop, and those times are ONLY, I repeat ONLY if you are standing and have to exit the shuttle let people off (this only happens when the shuttle is mega, mega full, or at least just plain full). Once you step off the shuttle and are forced to re-enter, it counts as entering for the first time, and the inital shuttle boarding rules apply. In the case of plentiful seating, sit. In the case of few or no seats, find a non-weenie place to stand. Thus are the universal rules of shuttle riding, according to me.

The next rules, which really don't count as rules becaause they apply only to DCC 324, regard the Vandal Desk. The Vandal Desk is the far back row, far right seat in DCC 324. Why, you ask, is it called this? Well, once upon a time I noticed that this desk does not have the shiny white layer (veneer, is it? I'm unsure if that's the right word) on top, so it is just bare brown wood. I noticed that some fool had been making attempts to write down palendromes on the desk, so I immediately whipped out the lyrics for "Bob" (a song composed entirely of palendromes) and began writing. One thing led to another, and soon there were pictures, internet jargon/acronyms, stick figures, and all manner of creative pieces covering the desk, including the "Add a Word to the Story" game. So yesterday I made it official. I wrote down the Vandal Desk Rules:

1. Thou shalt vandalize the Vandal Desk
2. Thou shalt enjoy the vandalism of other vandals
3. Thou shalt add a word to the story
4. Thou shalt not talk about the Vandal Desk

Today I found that someone had written on a regular desk, two desks to the left of the Vandal Desk. This I would not stand for, so I just now added, in huge letters, another unnumbered rule:

OTHER DESKS ARE NOT THE VANDAL DESK
DO NOT VANDALIZE THEM
and kill anyone who does

So we have the Vandal Desk. I'm not the only one who follows the Sacred Code of Vandalism, because every day there is new stuff drawn or written. It's pretty cool to be a part of something like this, where I'm forming bonds with people I've never even met. I don't really care to know them either. Heck, they could be people I see every day, and neither of us would ever know. It sends shivers down my spine. So now I say to you: go out, and create your own Vandal Desks, and spread the truth to colleges and universities everywhere. Just remember: on every desk two things are required: The Rules, and the Add a Word to the Story game (as per rule #3). Go out, go out and vandalize! I only fear for the day when the Vandal Desk is full and can no longer be vandalized. But that day is far off. It will last at least until the end of the semester, and after that I may not have class in here again, so it will be irrelevant.

There's a hidden 14th track called "Blood," and it's really freaking weird. I love it. A minute and a half of silence, and then a crazy weird little song.

The End

Join the Black Parade

Today is the day, folks, the mighty day on which The Black Parade made its triumphal entry into public life. It was a grand time, too. I left school and immediately trekked on south to Crossgates mall to pick up a copy that had been waiting for me for some time, thanks to my preorder. I wasted no time getting back to the car to listen to it, although I have to say it sounds a heck of a lot better on headphones. Wait, let me backtrack a bit. IT'S AWESOME. I would call it the apex of musical achievement, at least in my life time. I haven't made up my mind yet as to whether I like certain songs, but most of them, I have concluded, are amazing. So join up, kiddies. Go listen to the songs. You can get them online at theblackparade.com.

So one of the things I do when driving with my younger siblings is declare that various things are illegal, whether or not they really are. Today I decided that licking your elbow and viewing your own forehead are illegal. If you commit one of these heinous acts, the police will come to your house, put handcuffs on you, and take you to jail. These two crimes are so bad that they won't even read you your rights. Anyway, basically all they say is "you have the right to remain silent," which is kind of a given. That's like saying "you have a right to breathe" or "you have a right to think" (as opposed to keeping your mind blank, which is impossible). I guess what they mean is that they can't force you to say anything, but still, when you hear it on TV it just sounds a little bit funny. Everyone also knows that they get a free phone call, an attorney (you know, something I've been wondering for some time: what, if anything, is the difference between a lawyer and an attorney?), and an orange suit. If those orange suits weren't commonly attributed to inmates, I probably would wear one most of the time. Orange is such a cool color, because it doesn't rhyme with anything. I dare you to say "neither does purple," because that will allow me to say "yes, purple rhymes with smurple." If you get that, laugh and then award yourself 50 points.

I recently read Ender's Game for the first time since 9th grade, which was the first time I read it. Thus, I read it for the second time. I had forgotten a lot of what happened until I started reading it, at which point I basically remembered the whole story. I already knew the surprising plot twists, but regardless it was still a good book. It made me think of Starship Troopers, possibly my favorite book of all time, although it wasn't quite that good. I made an attempt to read the sequels back when I first read the book, but it's one of those stories that only exists once, and cannot be added on to. Even the last chapter of the book didn't fit into the story; as far as I'm concerned, the universe of Ender Wigging begins and ends with Battle School and IF Command School, much as Star Wars begins and ends with the rise and fall of the Galactic Empire under Palpatine. Later additions to the story just aren't true to the original spirit. I don't know if I'm getting my point across; I could probably get you to understand this concept verbally much more easily than I could here. Sequels sometimes enhance a plot, and sometimes act only as a desperate attempt to continue or revive a story that should have just been left alone. Please note that this was not the case with the Matrix; while it could, in some parallel universe, have existed just as well as a standalone movie, the continuation of the plot was quite intriguing. I'm also glad that George Lucas decided not to make Star Wars Episodes VII-IX, because that would ruin it. It's over, kids. There is no more Star Wars, so just forget about it. I mean come on, the expanded universe of Star Wars covers more time than the entire history of the earth. Is that really necessary? Just enjoy what exists, maybe imagine a little outside of the established plot, but leave it alone.

Dear me, I do tend to ramble. But seriously, we need to chill out as far as this "let's make a sequel to everything that is even remotely successful!" thing goes. It's ridiculous. By the way, today is the second day of my last week as a 17 year old. When I first turned 17, I didn't like it too much, but over the past 359 days (doesn't actually sound like very much, does it?) I've come to really enjoy it. I don't think I need the responsibilities of being a legal adult. What good is it going to do me? Granted, I can drive after 9 (wheeee...it's not like I really need to, and it's not like if I ever do need to, I won't), but what else can I really do? Oh, I can buy porn and tobacco legally! Yeah, I really have a whole lot of use for that. I can vote, but I don't really trust myself to make important decisions like that, even if I am one of a mass of people who vote. So tell me, what's the big deal? Why turn 18? I see no reason. Maybe I should skip my birthday, because I don't want to be an adult. That's probably the most depressing idea I've ever heard. I am finally, after all these years, no longer a kid, officially, legally, etc. I'll have to act like a kid, which is no problem, but I will no longer be a kid. No matter how hard I try, I will be an adult for the rest of my life. I'm going to treasure the remaining six days. It's all I've got left.

If life ain't just a joke, then why are we laughing?

Well, I've spent my writing abilities for right now. Many thoughts are going through my head, but I can't really pin any good ones down, so you'll just have to wait in agonizing suspense until the next time I pour out the contents of my soul via this wonderful electronic medium. Have fun living, and just remember: there are no coincidences. Everything, my friends, everything happens for a reason. Just think about that for a bit.

The End

Seven Days and Counting...

Today, folks, is a semi-monumental day. Today is the 17th of October, which is exactly 7 days (one Earth standard week) from the epic arrival of My Chemical Romance's latest anticipated masterpiece album, The Black Parade. Normally I would be jumping out of my skin (in a figurative sense) at this in excitement (well, not "normally," since I don't follow any other bands with even the remotest amount of fervor and I have never, in my entire life, purchased a CD), but today I assured myself a copy on opening day. That's right, I sold my soul (also in a figurative sense), went into Hot Topic, and pre-ordered The Black Parade. One week minus a few hours from now, I will be back at Crossgates mall, picking up the CD with the gift card I was given inside that oh-so-sweet little black envelope bearing the album's name. Of somewhat lesser importance (and I disclaim right now that this is a joke, and probably one I'll regret later, but it's still a joke and should be taken as one (that disclaimer basically just ruined the joke, but I'm protecting myself, you know?)), the 24th is also mine and Marin's two month anniversary.

Wal-Mart makes really good cookies. The only cookies I can say that I don't actively like (of the ones that I've tried, which is most of them) are the Oreo type ones and the chocolate covered peanut butter ones. The rest of them are fantastic, whether the chocolate chip or the coconut macaroon flavored ones or the fudge graham cookies...they are delightful. I think I could eat a ton of them, similar to the way a given person can easily polish off an average of 1.7 boxes of Freihoffer's chocolate chip cookies in an hour or less. Golly, they are delectable.

I know I should be working on computer science right now. Fortunately, all I have to do is pseudo-code, which isn't even real code. Anyway, I have some time tomorrow morning to work on it (though I planneth not to put it off that long) if I get in a pinch. Documenting my life, I'd say, is more important than any class, because when I'm 83 years old, I would probably draw much more enjoyment from reading what I did as a 17 year old than from writing a stupid computer program that performs a trivial task like adding up a bunch of numbers that I input. Isn't that what a calculator is for anyway?

Wikipedia is my favorite website. It is the only informational source that can draw a user in so far that, by the time they stop to think about it, they've already gone through 67 articles and are in the process of reading about the breeding patterns of an emu. I don't know why anyone would ever want to read about this, but Wikipedia can instill this desire in even the most uninterested person. I think when I become really musically inclined I'll write a tribute song to Wikipedia. Heck, I might even go so far as to create "Wikipedia: The Musical," which will be a smash hit on Broadway.

I'm pretty satisfied with my "Excellent" wireless signal that I'm getting from here in the kitchen. I usually sit on my bed, where I get a "Low" or even "Very Low" signal. It's really exciting to know that I am getting the best quality signal I can possibly get. Maybe I should celebrate by downloading something, or perhaps streaming a feature length movie (I don't even know if that's possible).

Well kids, something has come to my attention that requires, well, my attention, so that's it for today's edition of my life. I'm off to do noble things, and hunt down that dang Commander Cody action figure. I WILL FIND IT!

The End

Friday the Thirteenth of Doom

I think adding "of Doom" to anything makes it sound sinister and ridiculous, because being the non-superstitious kind of person that I am, I know for a fact that nothing bad is going to happen today just because it is Friday the 13th. I can't really remember anything significant happening today, save that I spent 4.5 hours at the Sports Information Office located conveniently in the Robison Gymnasium. It was a real good time, kids. I typed up the game summaries for the five football games we've had this year and then uploaded action shots of about half of the women's soccer team before heading off in a homewardly direction. I hit up Toys R Us on the way home, but found that they had little of interest or reasonable price (as is the increasing trend with this once great dynasty of a toy store). And now here I am with a belly full of Pizza Friday pizza and chocolate graham cookies (the most delightful sort of cookies) and a nagging tiredness that is causing me not to attend tonight's football game at CBA.

Listen up everyone. Only eleven more days until the Black Parade hits stores. One week from Tuesday I will be crashing every store I know of until I find this CD, and when I do, I will not hesitate to buy it, take it home, and love it like it deserves. This will be a landmark, people: the first CD I will have ever bought. It's going to be nothing less than rip-roaring good.

I just stopped for a number of minutes to think deeply about the status of my life. Last night I slept for a total of 9 hours, but they were all disjointed hours. I slept from 4 to 8, did some stuff, then slept again from 11:30 to 1:30, then watched Resident Evil and read Wikipedia articles about the series of games, then went back to sleep around 4:45. I woke up again at 8 and went to school, and here I am today.

That's basically what I do these days. I watch movies. I think of movies that I want to see or have ever wanted to see, even if only the slightest desire ever awoke in me, and I watch them. I love to watch popular or suggested movies and formulate a real opinion of them, because most of the movies that people like pretty much suck. Such movies include Fight Club, Anchorman, and Team America: World Police. This isn't to say that every movie anyone else likes is good. No, there are plenty of popular movies that really are spectacles of entertainment. Some people just like all the wrong movies. One of the movies I recently dabbled in, despite warnings that it was a "chick flick," was the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. As a rather weak disclaimer, I probably would never have watched it if not for a number of my female friends who like it (the curiosity began to drive me quasi-crazy), but I have to say it was a rather good movie, and admittedly even "touching" (something of a spoiler here: remember the young (i.e. not old) adage, "a movie is only touching if someone dies"). I think I'm becoming a movie fanatic. In the past three months I've watched more movies than I can name or remember plot details from. I still have a few movies that I want to make a judgment on (most prominently Pulp Fiction), but I must make sure I don't waste myself into nothingness.

Um...let's see, I've just been on IMDB.com for about an hour now, looking up movie quotes just so I can put up a new away message. Maybe I'll just think of something myself...At any rate, I lost my train of thought a while ago and I pretty much need to end this blog before it self destructs. Screeching halt, crash, etc.

The End

TGIT

Thank God It's Thursday. See, most people have to wait until Friday to celebrate the advent of the weekend. I, however, am not one of "most people," and thanks to my singular class on Friday, which is Calc lecture which I don't even really pay attention in, I'm effectively on weekend leave from school. That doesn't count my workstudy, but that's not too bad anyway, especially since they gave me a freaking season pass for men's hockey. For once, I am important enough to warrant special privileges, which take the form of free admission to every single RPI hockey game. How cool is that? Immeasurably so, especially because the pass says "Chris Monthie" and "RPI SID" (which stands for Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute Sports Information Department). Tell me that doesn't sound cool. Go on, tell me, and I'll prove you wrong. So yeah, I've taken myself out of school for the last "day" of the week because this is going to be the best weekend in a long while.

There are two things that are really satisfying, and those are a full tank of gas and a fully charged laptop battery. Nothing brings joy to my heart like pulling out of a gas station with the gas guage resting contentedly on the big F or sitting down and using a computer that is at its full capacity. Oh, the finer things in life...

I recently acquired some pirate gear from a dollar store in Brunswick (which is right near RPI) and spent some of last evening "terrorizing," "ravaging" and "pillaging" the denizens of Hall Hall, mostly the third floor. What better way is there to spend time than by walking into someone else's dorm and acting like a maniac? If anyone says homework, they had best keep that dirty thought to themselves. Homework never got anyone anywhere, and it never will. School is just a formality. None if this stuff that I learn is actually going to be applicable in real life; everyone knows that. If given the choice, I would just be a super hero anyway, which doesn't require any formal education. Then again, I'm not graced with any extraoridary powers either, so I might not fare too well in that field.

Oh yeah, today's computer science test kicked my butt. But let's not talk about that. Instead, let's go do something productive. Why don't you go exercise, or read a book, or draw a picture, or make a thousand friends, or record a CD, or start a war, or rub your hands all over newspapers so they turn black, or paint your face, or tramp around like a monster, or...you get the idea.

The End

Alright, so why did the last post post itself twice?

I guess I'll never know the answer to that question, especially since I deleted the second copy of the post and it's still there. What a crazy little kid, you know? I guess it will just be there until the end of time, which is all in all pretty stupid. I'm not gonna complain, because there isn't much I can do about it and I don't care that deeply.

So I don't know where all that was actually going, but first I wanted to talk about tonight's Major Banquet. Now, being the Voice of Colonie Little League and all, I figured I would get some kind of recognition for a job well done, but no, everyone overlooked me in favor of the blasted "auxiliary" that actually does little more than whine about how badly they have it and how much the men mistreat them and blah blah blah...you know, like regular women, except these are worse than regular women and it's a bunch of them grouped together. Little League, as they say, is all politics, and believe you me, it doesn't end on the playing field. The corruption permeates into the deepest, innermost levels of the concession stand, where the women thrive and cause trouble and such. I don't really need to talk about that because it's just a pain in the neck. The dinner itself was enjoyable, and I had a killer time sitting with the adults until I realized that I didn't belong there at all and went over to sit with Ned's team. This all happened because they were brewing some sort of suicide concoctions and betting each other money that they wouldn't drink them. Well, as it happened, an invader from another team (JT Garry was the team, and it was none other than Zach Longo doing the invading) showed up to check out the suicide scene. At this point I stepped in and boldly sipped from both of the VFW drinks, which earned me a minor degree of respect among the younguns and a challenge to dabble in JT Garry's monstrosity. So I headed over to their table and discovered a real beast of a drink, this dark liquid with something ugle protruding out of the top of it. I was unfazed. I reached down, picked up the cup (the side of which was running with some unidentifiable gunk), and took a small sip. What did I get, you ask? Well, it was something like a chunky, warm coke taste, although it was deeply penetrated by the awesome sensation of chicken and shredded parmesan cheese. It was a most foul taste, the likes of which I have never encountered before. Really rather innovative, I must say, this chicken soda. I gasped a small gasp, swallowed, and realized I had accomplished a feat not many my age, or any age for that matter, had or would ever accomplish. That's right, I drank the weirdest thing ever. It's a taste I won't soon forget, believe me.

Which reminds me that this particular banquet was held at the prestigious Italian American Community Center on Washington Ave, the same IACC (for short) that hosted our very own Senior Prom (I'm not sure that deserves capitalization, but I guess it looks cooler that way anyway), which wasn't all that great because, quite frankly, the room was too small. Yeah, I have to say that the Marriott was clearly the best place I ever went to for a formal dance, and I spent two of my six career formal dances there. Formal dances, whilst I am on that note, are rather overrated as a whole (it's a pointless ritual, to be painfully honest), but I'm still glad to have had the experience.

I have in my possession the one and only Manny Bickley, the honorary Colonie Little League Tac Pin. I think "tack" is actually spelled with a "k," but Manny's name does not include one. Tac is so much cooler like that. Yeah, he's just chilling out in my glasses case, where I put many a relic from my various experiences. That's just about the end of that pointless little excursion into my recent past.

One of these days...these boots are gonna walk all over you. Tee hee.

So now it's midnight, and what do I feel like doing? Certainly not sleeping, no. I'd much rather listen to Billy rant on and on into the wee pre-dawn hours, or maybe live my life vicariously through a Sim. Yeah, the Sims are really chill people. I haven't had much time to spend with them lately, and since I just put that game on my laptop last night and didn't even play it, I guess I should get right on that. Video games are my life, yo. Man, are they ever diesel.

The End