John Wilkes Kissing Booth

So Scotty Kleinsmith sees the coming cultural war attraction in the Dukes of Hazzard remake–for the appearance that any on-set shots with the General Lee avoid visual mention of the roof, as the original sported the Confederate Flag. I wouldn’t be shitted if Lincoln’s portrait replaced it.

I do share a May 10th birthday with former actor and romantic John Wilkes Booth (1838) whose father’s middle name was Brutus.

The tenth of May is also the birthday of Mark David Chapman (1955), the chubby Beatles and J.D. Salinger fan who shot John Lennon. He is up for parole this year and has unfortunately not yet popped Paul “Bono” Hewson (1960).

Actually, expecting or reveling in admiration for being arbitrarily marginalized into society within a three-shift air slot out of a bunch more is a drip of everyman’s bullshit.
Congrats, I’m sure Michael Jordan is absolutely thrilled he has your birthday, too. Give him a call for all hell’s sake.

One of the most pathetic pitfalls of self-awareness and fatherhood was when my bald, white, 5 foot 8 inch 34-year-old junior high gym coach named his baby boy “Jordan Michael”. Oh, the stares of vicarious living that child will know.

Sid Vicious (1957) also share(s/d) my birthday. Maybe I’ll name my kid Vicious Sid so he’ll default to a punk rocker.

“People exist on this earth for each other, for the relationships that we create, to take care of one another and to learn the most that we can while we are here.”
-Jennifer C. Savage, longsuffering metaphysician

Kinda free iPod.

One-Hour-Ago iPod v. Three-Years-Ago Cutco

Knowing few of the many possible perversions of the term “hourly base salary”, I almost ended up selling Cutco knives as a high school senior from the suspicious office nook of a minor league hockey player. They do, however, make great gifts for any occasion.

Well, One-Hour-Ago Dave is apparently as naive as Three-Years-Ago Dave.
I was surfing the internet not specifically for porn instead of reviewing French flashcards, as One-Hour-Ago Dave is known to do, and saw an offer for a free (yes, absolutely-of-course-no-strings-at-all-attached free) iPod. “Why, sure, I would like a free iPod,” One-Hour-Ago Dave said to himself. “Who wouldn’t?” Long story shorter, get a free iPod just like I am getting a free iPod if I do some non-free things to get one (five of you, please) by clicking below:
http://www.freeiPods.com/?r=15635576

real ninjas wear crewcuts

Social animosity is relative:
In the snackbar late afternoon today, two semigoths were practicing synchronized tae kwan do moves barefoot amongst clustered tables strewn with Magic the Gathering game pieces but as I was waiting for my cigarette to end in swaggered a certain near unanimously scorned Tyson-lisping fucktard to correct their ninja blocking techniques.

a look at the college weekly, er, myself

The week’s marginally more proofread Collegian was particularly intriguing to me because it mentioned my name in print. My Italian-American friend Sue DePassio wrote a snappy “What are those kids up to nowadays?” piece on oh-that-fad blogging. She’s a good kid, I see her going places. Her article featured the inviolable Dan Greene – also,and suspiciously an Italian-American. I, briefly, was touched on and, for some reason, said a few offputingly dumbass remarks like claiming this blog was not sophomoric and should be read for political insight. What the red fuck, Last-Week Dave?

G Whacked, G

Mental note to nation’s self.

I’ll give Him points for localized and cosmically applicable irony.
I fell on black ice (twice) tonight on my left knee in a pair of jeans with a tear in the left knee which had been injured similarly two days ago.
Well played, Groucho.

Now, you’re daily mustache and bible sex quiz.

Da ‘Stache and Antarctica

A conceptualization but two years ago, Daniel R. Douglass and I have founded, through hereditary traits and ambition, the Hillsdale Mustache Militia. We are (presently) two but we are many. “Da ‘Stache” isn’t just an unflattering/creepy facial hair statement, it’s a vision of independence. The dream? A physically but not geographically unidentifiable colony of Antarctica.

“Human shields make lousy real shields.”
-Don Turner

Seaside

Seaside susy stay and a christmas ferry boat light cross rushed up from lake james and i made mends with your mother before she took you steuben county up home north and you wrote on a piece of green posterboard you’d promise.
We’re lyin if you’re lyin and i’m lyin.

Ch-ch-checkin’ in with some old friends

A soaring pockmarked-Boy-Scout-colored star, America? Yes, Hillsdale’s own Hans Zeiger is a confirmed columnist opposite Jerry Falwell for The Conservative Voice, but, more importantly, here’s a prom pic of lil’ Zeigy.

I’m not precisely sure why this post, a mere two sentences from gop-mixmaster Ryan Thompson, is the most grandiose douche bag personal reflection available via world wide web. It’s a presupposition I’m working with.

Pre or Post

Is scalping yourself even physically/psychologically possible? Not likely, but I’m no quitter.

Party foul #1: Getting hot-n-ready on a bed that is not your own in a house that is not your own. Don’t say you were just talking. This is either a pre or post-fuck intervention. Now out.

Their Cereals That Of

On raising your voice for the proletariat:
Second semester freshman year I filled out a comment card in which I politely requested, with the undertows of an uprising, they carry amongst their cereals that of Count Chocula. And they did, for a sweetass month.
This is my story. This is my song.

“Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.”
-Dr. John Somerville