Breathing

Sometimes I forget how to do things I’ve known how to do for a long time.
Breathing, for instance, comes to mind. I’ll walk up a single flight of stairs and find myself panting from near exhaustion, and, as I begin to recuperate, I’ll become aware of the volume and rhythm of my breaths and as I try to modulate my breathes and return to “normal”, I’ll be thinking, “How did I do this? (looking around at the way other people breath) Yes….that looks about right…”
However, you can’t really return to normal breathing processes unless you allow this respiratory function to be taken over by your reflexes. So then I’ll try to distract myself which usually involves contemplating some important issue I have no actual desire to think about at the time. “Hmm, I wonder what’s happening with Iran, seems they want to play hardball.” Even then, I’m still watching myself breath out of the corner of my brain.
Eventually, though, I’ll finally forget, but you can’t really enjoy it at that point, and I want the satisfaction of knowing I’m breathing normally like “Oh yeah, look at me go. Breath-breath-breathing. Aaaahhhhh, nice and natural.” Part of my brain knows this, so it’ll awaken several minutes into my return to effortlessness and try to capture the moment but I have to rebuff it like, “No, That Part of Brain, you’re ruining it for the rest of us. It’s doesn’t work like that. It just isn’t meant to be.”
It usually shapes up then because it knows it’s not ready to play hardball with this crazyass stair-climbing motherfucker.

CCA

I picked up my CCA paper today on which I, of course, was awarded an A.
The topic? “Great Economists“. Here are some excepts:

• In the first Center for Constructive Alternatives of the semester, students were treated to an excellent array of knowledgeable speakers. Each of these upstanding men chose to focus on one particular economist. This was delightful. It is unfortunate, however, that free-market sympathizers are forced to voice their opinion in a forum of “constructive alternatives”. This is nonsense! Why is this not the mainstream opinion? Thankfully, this matter was not left untouched by the courageous R. Emmett Tyrell Jr. of the laudable American Spectator. He rightly reminded conservatives that most liberals are communists and that this is where the current war of ideas is being waged.

• Was he serious? Was he trying to make a point? What point could one making even pretending to make a case for communism? This is a very serious thing to be joking with if indeed he was joking. One should probably not joke in such a way. Such joking will be explored in the next section.

• Knight, however, can be more heavily criticized–—particularly on his support for communism. During his lifetime, he should have been, in the least, educating for liberty. To defend communism, however, plays right into the hands of what leftists crave. As Ezekiel chapter 3:1-3 says, “And the word of the Lord came unto me, saying, ‘Son of man, prophesy against the prophets of Israel that prophesy, and say thou unto them that prophesy out of their own hearts, Hear ye the word of the Lord’; Thus saith the Lord God; Woe unto the foolish prophets, that follow their own spirit, and have seen nothing!””

• Tyrell pointed out the obvious. The great debate is over. The Left got it wrong; the Right got it–—what do you know?–right. Conservatives have tried to show liberals their errors for so long. What else is there to say? As Tyrell said, ““In his [Bill Clinton'’s] intellectual bequest he left American liberalism a political stratagem that it has now used for decades, to wit: Lie! Lie passionately! Lie inveterately! Never admit to wrong!”” How can a decent American conservative reason with these liars? After all, they are the children of communists, nudists, and vegetarians. What is worse, liberals are cheats and cowards. As Tyrell again noted, ““For two generations the Great Debate has come down to Democratic leaders playing on the psychological needs of their supporters.” Still, it probably wouldn’t be wrong to try to show these people the truth, but, in fairness, conservatives must spend time disproving the liberal and absurd theory of a ““vast right-wing conspiracy””. Tyrell seemed to be wisely saying that the Great Debate is over but share as much truth as you can.
  

• In conclusion, Hayek and Knight have much to offer the intellectual conservative. They provide a launching pad of objectivity for the seeker of truth. However, one should not get too entrenched in the details. One should, however, remember that the ideas of the conservative have won. Now it’s time for the liberals to accept that.

Fabulous

I just Googled myself for the second time this week (that’s right, ladies) and I have something I’d like to say to the Fabulous Frank & Dave: Later acoustic cocksucks! Who’s the #3 most popular seach result for Dave Frank now?
Granted, I still trail behind davefrank.net–a creative marketing consultant with a martial arts-like objective to “assess, plan, deploy, then…disappear”.
More discouraging is the fact that the #2 spot (pun INtended!) is held not by a website, but by and an article published two years ago announcing the opening of a New York jazz school by pianist and all around whiteman musician Dave Frank.
Still, passing Frank Merkendorfer and Dave “Cab” Callaway is gratifying as I am no longer eating the the harmonizing shit of the “premier acoustic duo in the Chicagoland area”.
The songlist of these metropolitan soft-rock giants includes:

-”Closer to Free” by the Bodeans
-”Calling all Angels” by Train
-”What I Like about You” by The Romantics
-”3 a.m” by Matchbox Twenty

Don’t worry, you’re getting some originals, too, like “Last Train to Nowhere” and “Small Craft Advisories”.

“What fateful events led to the dynamic pair’s formation?” you might ask yourself. Not to worry. Frank recounts the evening for us with no small degree of homoeroticism: “ We were both booked to do a couple hours at a bar in Naperville called The Cabaret. I saw his show, he saw mine, and the rest is as they say, ‘history’….”If you’re in the area, look out for them next at Brian’s Charhouse or Roundhead’s Pizzeria & Grill.

Clock

I hate when I’m setting my alarm but accidentally pass the intended hour. “Five a.m… six a.m… seven a.m… eight a.m… nine–fuck.” Then I forced to click 23 more times all the way back to 8 a.m. to do something I’d really not rather do ever (i.e. “wake up to consciousness”). I then, of course, pass 8 a.m. a second time because I’m exhausted as all shit from jabbing at an appliance I already have overwhelming amount of animosity for.
I guess an alarm clock is kind of like that peppy friend who you tell to remind you to do something you don’t actually want to be reminded to do and actually does it. “Oh yeah, yeah. Just remind me about that charity event and I’ll be sure…(two weeks later)…get away from me!” Look, I agreed to this because I wanted someone to overhear me agreeing to do something for some disenfranchised section of society–not because I actually had “any intention of doing it”.
Please, we’re adults now. I think it’s time you woke up numbed yourself to any semblance of authenticity.

Words

In the spirit of Kanye…

Two words essential to a college student’s diction:

• Prof
• Quad (thanks molly)

Two words I’ve being trying to find a context in which to use them:

• Hodge-podge
• Cavalcade

Two words I’ve been using as exclamations as of late:

• Cunt
• Geez

Two words which have recently come back into popular usage:

• Pumped
• Retarded

Two words that can make inflammatory opinion seem reasonable:

• May
• Seems

Two words that are better abbreviations for “mother” than “mom”:

• Mum
• Mammy

Two words professional basketball could do without:

• Stuffed
• Trifector

Two words pronounced somewhere in between each other in my home state of Indiana:

• Fur
• For

Two words that don’t make sense as their original word if you divide them up:

• Moreover
• Nevertheless

Two words ending in “y” that should dissuade you from seeing a comedy if they are used by a reviewer to describe said comedy:

• Wacky
• Zany

Two words people should stop attaching to other words:

• Monger
• Nazi

Two words whose suffixes are now attached to other words to create new words that still retain the residual meanings of the original words:

• Gaydar
• Homophobe

Two words I will spell incorrectly my entire life and, in a matter of minutes, will use spell check to correct:

• Restaurant
• Bourgeoisie

Two words that assholes use when writing a paper:

• Plethora
• Quotation

Two words that are fun to make gender-neutral:

• Layman
• Chairman

Two words I will try not to use if I ever become religious:

• Lord
• Walk

Two words that should never be used in the place of “yes”:

• Affirmative
• That’s-a-go

Gentlemen

I hate when my initial shake is less effective than I had presumed and I leave the restroom only to discover that I may have unofficially pissed myself. Then I have to circle back to a stall without appearing overly suspicious. This is nearly impossible unless you act like you’ve forgotten something, and this is even more suspicious because what could you have forgotten in a stall you were never in to begin with?
Anyway, maybe this situation could be avoided if I weren’t so hasty to leave gentleman’s rooms that are unequipped with urinal partitions. This is both an impolite and dangerous omission on the part of the establishment who must have an inordinate amount of faith in their patrons being that most men over the age of 50 choose to stand no closer than two feet from the urinal at any time.
I also make a concerted effort to avoid chatty pissers, but this is a difficult resolution to strategize. “Hey there (unzzzzzzzip), how’s it going?” It’s not so much that I am incapable of multi-tasking as that I am put in a position where it is impossible to avoid small talk.
The urinal trough, however, had to have been designed by a person with an extremely romantic view of male courtesy. Urinal troughs, for those who unfamiliar with this plumbing milestone, are a porcelain-lined basin attached to a bathroom wall. Urinal troughs are usually found at sporting arenas which, ironically, are the last place a urinal trough should be installed. In a system where thousands of drunk men are left so uncurtailed in a system that begs for some sort of supervision, everyone loses.

Responses

As a Hillsdale College student, I receive (what I let myself think of as) a complimentary gym pass.
Appreciated.
Not appreciated, however, is the rumpled old supervisor who watches me sign in before going downstairs (to the muscle barracks), because, although she may be talking with someone about the assistant pastor of her son’s church, I’m always mistaken if I presume I could be able to slip by without being reminded to “Have a good work out.”
How am I supposed to respond to shit like that?
Options:
-”Will do.”
-”Sure thing.”
-”Good idea.”
-”Sounds like a plan.”
These are all responses, of course, I’ve actually used, and I now choose to blame her for this horrible self-awareness.

Shorts

I don’t wear shorts because I have pale short legs and not enough money for lifts and a bottle of James Caan-approved bronzing spray. I am also at an age where most styles of short are inappropriate for a 22-year-old man with a widow’s peak.
If you look around the young men’s section of a department store, you will notice a selection of shorts designed exclusively for 11 year-old skateboards and the enthusiastic members of the Black Eyed Peas. “Hmmm…these aren’t bad…wait, is that a dragon on the side?”
I’m not prepared for dad shorts either. Maybe it’s because of the unspoken rule that men’s shorts decrease in length as the age of the intended customer goes up. “Well, you’re getting older, you should probably role up your pants a little bit more and show some hot aging man thigh. It’s only proper.”
What if women were expected to do this? Don’t get excited about that chick from your favorite MILF site. For every Terri Hatcher there’d be hundreds of Eddie McClurgs. Or worse yet, that Desperate Housewife who isn’t Terri Hatcher or Eve Longoria or either of the two blond ones…the red-haired one. The one who looks like she got whatever Star Jones got.
Ha-ha, Hollywood zing!
Also, I don’t like cargo shorts. I already have a backpack.

Car

A few days ago. After lunch.

Dave: I guess I was pretty drunk Tuesday.

Jon: You tried to punch out a car window.

Dave: Why?

Jon: You threw gravel at it first.

Dave: Hmm.

Jon: You said you didn’t like the tires.

“Quote…”

The function of an away message is rarely informative being it is significantly more gratifying to display a favorite quote, adage, or recent uproarious AIM discussion.
I do this all the time. I’ll come across an interesting passage or song lyric and, a third of a second after I recognize the item as personally appealing, I’ll think to myself (who else would I be thinking to?), “That’s going up on the ol’ away message.”
Also, for some reason, it’s important for my away message to be artistically honest, i.e., “I can’t leave up the lyrics for ‘Celebration‘ on a Monday. That’s insane. Everyone knows what a celebration Mondays are–not! (Chuckle).”
In the end, however, the away message most seamlessly lends itself as a public canvas for those who are determined to keep up their reputation as “interesting”. I’ll tell you what, High School Dave would have loved away messages. Loved them, revised them, and dwelt upon them. Too bad for him he didn’t have a personal computer and spent most of his free time on the family computer using Morpheus to download episodes of Dawn’s Place or Ideepthroat.com.

Hold on, let me try my hand at a emo girl’s away message (either original or from her favorite band):

Your eyes are angel wings
And I’m falling up from hell,
I tried to talk to you for hours
In a second, oh well, oh well.
Yeah, yeah.

-Eyes Wide Hoping