I told Kelsie I was really into Dr. Dog today. When she asked what "it" was, I said it was a dog that is a physician. It's a greyhound. He's accredited. And the main appeal is that it's really fun to watch him remove your wisdom teeth.

For the sake of clarification, here is Dr. Dog Kelsie. This song is good. It's not their best. But it's good.

Things I just heard in the library

This guy sitting a few tables over from me just was yelling this story. All I caught was this:

Loud Guy: "It was... It was a smoker's boon! I swear! It was *moves arms to indicate a table* this, like this."
Girl with him: "Whyyyy?"
Loud Guy: "I don't know, but I got jam."


So, from now on, I'm all about saying, "I don't know, but I got jam" when people ask me to explain what the Hell I'm even talking about.

This chest is fallow farmland and the world can beat against it, digging deep, trying to give life and love some purchase, but it lies still like salted earth.

I've never written a subtle sentence in my life.

I feel most in control when it's 3 AM and I've cleaned my room finally and my laundry is half done. I feel good mainly because there's a nice breeze in the house that makes me think of spring and because I love the smell of laundry detergent and warm clothes.

I feel in control when I shouldn't feel in control. I feel in control when the world is asleep and I've got hours to myself.

My sleep suffers, my writing suffers, my quirks suffer, but I feel as normal as the next average Joe when I'm up in the middle of the night doing laundry and reading books.

How to Win

-Listen to rap music and win.
-Cook your own food and win.
-Say the word "womp" and mean it. Win.
-Send me an online video that is actually funny. Win.
-Read good books and win.


These are the ways to win. Take notes.

I'm supposed to be writing an essay in the form of Michel de Montaigne right now.

Instead I'm listening to Freelance Whales and thinking about clothing. Thinking about reading. Thinking about how I've been neglecting to call people back.

My essay is called "Of Youth and Manhood", based off of the latin viri and the Kings of Leon album. Also based upon my life and how I'm actively resisting growing up/civil/religious/familial/personal duty.

So that's what my essay will be about. It will be written in my basement in the light of my Christmas lights that hang on my wall probably while I listen to crappy music.

I can't ever tell if I'm perpetually in a bad mood anymore or if I'm just being pathetic... Hmm... Something definitely isn't making a good connection in my body. I'm going to assume that more Diet Coke will cure it. Diet Coke cures anything.

Grizzly Bear's Vecktamist is kind of going to go down as one of those "extremely influential albums" in my life. I mean, my kids are going to be listening to this. This is my generation's Graceland you know?

One time when I was at a Grizzly Bear show at Memorial Hall, some guy stood up and yelled in between songs, "WHY DONTYA PLAY SOME PAUL SIMON FOR US?" and chuckled and then sat down again. Then he left after their set. What?

Is Dananananaykroyd the new Vampire Weekend?

Are they the non-2006 Vampire Weekend?

When will people stop liking bands like Fischerspooner and Husker Du?

TOO MANY QUESTIONS

Reading Newsweek makes me want to shake my fist and yell "REAGANNNNN" like Captain Kirk yelling "KHANNNNNN!!!!"

See also: Why is it that when I go to search, "Wrath of Khan", the first search item after "Wrath of" is "Wrath of the Lich King"? Because that's World of Warcraft stuff. And it is, inherently, irrelevant where Star Trek is concerned.

I'm not the biggest fan of Star Trek. But I know enough to know that Star Trek inspires people not to waste their lives. World of Warcraft inspires kids to not move until they die. I think, google, that you should be putting "Wrath of Khan" above this "Wrath of the Lich King" crap. For the sake of humanity.


INTERNETS

I want some Ranch dressing and waffle fries. I also want a falafel. I also want to just be able to read a bunch of good stuff all day. Listen to chill music. I know art won't save me, but it sure can give me some good ideas.

I've declined my latin noun. Now I'm eating Swedish Fish and thinking about things. Maybe I'm not wasting my time and life after all... I mean, so much of a writer's time should go into thinking about things.

All morning I've been wanting to fashion a time machine so I could go back to China at the turn of the century and put on a performance (in translation of course) of Lope de Vega's "Fuenteovejuna" to the peasant throngs in Hunan. I wonder if it would hit home as hard as the Communist doctrine did... Probably not. The peasants only like the Communists because capitalism was so close to feudalism in their country.

Sigh. See, this stuff isn't useful or necessary to the world.

I'm going to die starving.

I'm supposed to be declining a noun and reading books and doing things like that. Ok I guess I will but first I'd like to take a moment to say that


Well I had something to say and then it left. I'll just say something like

HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY YA'LL or something.

This blog is for my posterity. So my children will know that on January 11, 2010, I was wishing the people who read my blog (nobody) a good day.

I'm like a humanitarian or something. Sometimes.

I'm updating SO MUCH LATELY

But I just feel like.

You know when Ritchie Tenenbaum is messing up that tournament play? And he has one shoe off and keeps staring into the stands?

I feel like that a lot. Just. All nerves.

And then I worry about if I'm too crazy on the internet. If I'm internet crazy. If people reading this think I'm crazy. Or complain or whine too much.


Even this is making me crazy. I'm not crazy. I just REALLY REALLY like to liveblog my life.

I'm so culturally insignificant that it's insane. Maybe that's a good thing. Look at how big of a fool Perez Hilton is.

Sigh, note to self: don't get angry at yourself because you're not a writer for the The Awl, because you don't have a lot of money, because you're not a published novelist, because you're not a musician, because you can't figure out how to shut your mind up.

Kthankx. BYE

St. Augustine used to be like

Festina lente.

But screw that. I'm like Festina Alwaysus. That's latin.

Cause I been tired and hopeful

I decided to rephrase my last post.

I will now just say: Hip Hop's forever.

Why can I only listen to the Weezer 8-Bit tribute album? And it's not even like I'm listening to the whole thing. I can only listen to the songs that came off of Pinkerton. Ohhhh man, stop this life! I can't afford to be crazy obsessive savant boy right now. I can't afford to sit wikipedia-ing my favorite bands for HOURS. I can't afford to think things like, "Maybe now is a good time to get into underground comix." Right now, my brain should be thinking, "Ok, time to learn Latin and Swedish this semester!"

It's just so tough to readjust! I was only home for 13 days or so, but it was like. Oh hello real world. Let me live in you.

Is it so bad that I just want to live in New York and have friends who get it and read books, internets, artist statements, watch Style Wars, look at art, become a jerk, and then die? Is that so bad?

Thank you BYE

After a month of solid living, constantly in control, or seemingly in control, or no control, it'll be tough to walk back into class and try and figure out how to slow it down a little bit.

I got better grades last semester. I'm realizing how terrible of a student I really am at heart. 2.75 GPA? Ok, whatever. At least I'm taking some lit theory classes next semester.

Being home is a head trip. I'm trying my very hardest not to just lay in bed all day reading books and listening to music forever. Death to the infidel who stole my mp3 player.

And as a final note to 2009: you were the year that made me realize I could get some truly fantastic google analytics results.