Box Of Peanuts

My Music Tastes

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Sat, 21 Aug 2010 01:22:00 +0000

First I was like

Then I was like

I Don't Think I Could Write A Movie

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 21:22:00 +0000

Not that I'm trying.

I'm not expert in the movie business, but it seems like writers don't have much control. I know I'm only thinking feature films, here, but it seems like the producers and directors have their visions realized. You see the promotions and they're like, "From Executive Producer, This Guy. Directed by That Guy. Starring, These Two." And if those names are big enough, they might not even bother telling you what the story's about.

If you write a story, you visualize everything all in your head. In your mind, you know what the characters look, what their voices sound like, what the environments look like - every single detail. When you write a book, you have to surrender a lot of that to the reader. You know that the readers will build many those things in their own minds, with their imaginations. In film, visuals and sounds are created beforehand. Rooms are rooms, people are people. No more descriptions, show them what you want them to see! I think that's an amazing opportunity for a writer. At least, it sounds like Christmas to me.

But if you hand (read: sell) that script to a producer, it's his movie. He'll choose the director who's gonna shoot things the way he thinks it should be seen. He'll read that script and visualize things his own way. Producers, directors and actors are what drive people to the theaters because they're what's recognizable.

Take a director with a signature style, like Tim Burton. I don't know how anyone could ever hire that guy. I'm not saying his movies are bad, but I can't imagine how the tiniest sliver of anyone else's vision could survive! Every film he directs becomes his. That's going to happen with any director, though to a lesser degree. It has to. He's not the writer.

Robert De Niro, as himself.

And the actors. They wanna be stars. They're going to play towards their strengths and try to shine. God forbid you get an actor who's typecast. If they cast Bruce Willis or Robert De Niro in the movie, you can take whatever character profiles you had and burn 'em.

Let's not forget about sex, violence and comedy. Unless you're James Cameron, you've gotta excel in at least one (probably two) of those areas to make bank at the box office.

I just don't think I could ever hand over a script without being in charge. But how often is the writer also the producer and director of a feature film? It's not too often that one person is given that much power.

I guess if you wrote a screenplay and you felt like me, you'd either have to shoot it yourself, or make good friends with the director. It's probably good that I won't be in those shoes.

AHH SKEE-! ...ehem

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Wed, 02 Jun 2010 22:46:00 +0000

I loved to watch older people reminisce over music. It's beautiful. Mom and Dad break out the records and look back upon years of fun, remembering the good old days.

Take, for instance, Earth Wind & Fire's Fantasy. It's one of their favorites.

Yeah. You can totally see my parents sitting in front of the record player, swaying and such.

What's gonna be funny is when I'm riding in the car, with my kids, and a song from my high school years comes on the radio. It should be fun explaining to them that I was young then, and times were different.

Times do change... Skeet skeet.

How Do You Like the Casserole?

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Tue, 01 Jun 2010 20:24:00 +0000

Know what I hate? (You should. It's most of what I blog about.)

I hate when people ask me if I like a new food or drink, the second it hits my lips.

You've been there. You take one bite, and before you can pull the fork out of your mouth, "Well? What do you think?" I think I'd like to swallow this before take the stand!

Even worse is when you haven't even tried it, yet. I mean, excuse me if that freaky fungi-lookin' stuff wasn't the first thing I put it my mouth. They don't care. When you tell them, "Oh, I haven't tried that, yet," they're like, "Oh really? Well, take a bite now. I'll watch."

Bid mistake. If I have to look you in the eye and tell you that your green bean disasterole tastes delicious, you're gonna see right through it. Especially if my tongue is still trying to contact FEMA.

Don't get me wrong. I understand how you feel. It must have been hard work getting a live meerkat into a blender. You want to see my face light up as the village is raided and the riots begin. But now is not the time. You've gotta give me a minute to choke it down and think of a good lie. Otherwise, all you're going to get is a, "It's, uh...," while I probe the rest of your abomination for hidden anti-mutagens.

Everything's Gonna Be Okay

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Tue, 25 May 2010 01:33:00 +0000

I am aware that people don't know the future. I'm also not four years old. So when someone says to me, "Everything's gonna be okay," I can't help but roll my eyes and wonder why they take me for a fool.

Where did that come from, anyway? 'Cause it seems like you only hear it from people who have absolutely no idea. It's the go-to line for when you can't think of anything that's actually encouraging. "It's gonna be okay. I promise."

Well, f I'm afraid, I want encouraging facts, not the empty words of an optimist. If I'm sick, I don't want, "I know you can beat this," I want the percentage of people in my condition who pull through. And if that's not a comforting number, maybe I don't have too much of a reason to be hopeful.

Faith in God, I understand. Faith in established trends, I understand. I can even understand faith in a person. But faith in nothing? Hope, simply because what you wish for is possible? No, I'm afraid I lack the capacity, for that.

I guess that's why I worry so much...

You remember those Calvin & Hobbes comics, where Calvin would explain a deep revelation to Hobbes, while they rode a wagon or sled to their doom?

There were a lot of those...

It's Where My Butt Landed?

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Tue, 18 May 2010 05:34:00 +0000

My future lady is in for a surprise. One day, she's gonna walk into the room and find me watching tv. What she won't expect, is to see me seated on the floor with my back against the couch.

Soon after, she'll walk in and find me in front of the tv, sprawled across the carpet (we have to have carpet in front of the tv). It's an old habit I picked up from my dad. Why does he do it? The best reason I can think of is that it's because he grew up with more siblings than could fit on a couch.

In either case, she will likely ask me why I'm on the floor, in front of an empty couch. How will I respond? I came up with some ideas...

"Just fell. Lil' help?"

"I was saving the couch for you."

"I farted. Heat rises. Gotcha. You're it."

"I'm playing couch. Have a seat."

"Well, I was waiting on that vacuum." *side-eye* "But I see you don't have it with you..."

"Girl, you don't feel the feng shui I just did?"

"Upskirts."

"Dag you nosy!"

"I was coppin' a feel. This is nice carpet."

I bet it's no big deal. She probably won't care. Who knows, maybe she'll join me, and we can be like the happy young couple I found when I googled "laying on carpet."

I Need to Get a Life

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Tue, 18 May 2010 05:01:00 +0000

Seriously. I'm lame.

When I come home from school, I usually work. This summer, I'm stretchin' my money like a mug. In turn, I do absolutely nothing. I spend entire days in my pajamas, sitting on the computer, playing Pokemon, and consuming massive amounts of junk food (White Castle and chicken nuggets, anyone?). And when I do go out, it's rarely for a good reason, but rather because I know I don't go anywhere.

I'm vegetating, and I know it. I am slowly becoming less of a human being, and more of myself in high school. Funny thing is, I lose weight while I do it (Ha!).

There's something about this house. I lose all motivation for anything, when I'm here. I don't know if I've ever felt less cool. But no, I don't play video games with my grandma. I just like that picture.

Maybe I need a hobby...

...could hunt dogs...

Retaliation

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Tue, 04 May 2010 05:09:00 +0000

Why are we so quick to retaliate? What is it in a man that gives him gratification in seeing a wrongdoer suffer? It's funny how someone's actions infuriate us, and our instinctive solution is cause that person pain. Like when someone punches you in the arm. You'd probably swing back, without even thinking.

Is it justice we want? Do we believe that the offense knocked the universe out of whack and that putting our offender through the same discomfort will somehow set it all straight? Or is it all just about watching them hurt?

Maybe, deep down, some of us just like to hurt people, and they're waiting for an excuse.

Note to Self #1: Be Who You Want

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Sat, 03 Apr 2010 06:59:00 +0000

Are you who you want to be?

Who do you want to be? This you should know. Who do you admire the most? You know, that person you think is awesome? The one you wish you could be?

Yeah. That person is probably a lot like the person you want to be.
So be that person.

Do it.

"Be" is a verb, right? An action. And a person, what is that? A person is a body and a list of actions. Yeah, yeah, there's thoughts, feelings, ideas, beliefs, loves, fears - whatever. Your ideal self wouldn't conflict with those things, so don't worry about them.

Act like the person you want to be, and that is who you will be.

You wanna be the _____ type? The kind of person who always _____ and never _____?
Do what they do, because that's what defines who they are.

Stop wishing.

With a Little Bit of Gold and a Pager

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 02:32:00 +0000

I'm in the market for some new clothes. Actually, I'm looking to upgrade my entire wardrobe. I even got a couple pairs of skinny jeans, yesterday. Before, my closet contained one pair of khakis, one pair of shorts, and about ten pairs of carpenter fit jeans. So, skinny jeans were quite a shift.

To be truthful, I'm too skinny for skinny jeans to fit the way skinny jeans fit. And slimmer fits like "super skinny" and "skinniest" look and feel, well, really gay.

YES

HAHA

I'll be picking up new button-ups, new shoes, new everything. I'll let you know how it goes.

Photo credits: Internet

My Day

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 03:59:00 +0000

I think I waste too much time.

In fact, I'm sure of it. My typical weekday schedule looks like this:

1. Do something important
2. Waste time
3. Do something important
4. Waste time
5. Go to bed (maybe)

My weekends look about the same, minus the important stuff. At least I'm working, again. Paychecks feel productive.

I hardly write anymore. My blog is rotting, my stories are unfinished... And just now, as I'm writing this, I remember that I wrote a "Part 1" to a story, in a previous entry.

Whoops.

I guess I oughta get on that...
I think I need to keep my eyes open for topics that will inspire me to write. Something.

Adventures With Coke - Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 17:06:00 +0000

Did I ever tell you about my adventure to an alternate reality?

Yeah, it happened when I kicked a can.

It was a Coca-Cola can. He sat on the curb, as I walked down the sidewalk. Obviously homeless, he was empty, crumpled, and smelled as if he hadn't showered for weeks.

And he was naked. That's how I knew he was a he.

Normally, I avoid homeless people. There's something about life on the street, an all-garbage diet, and a lack of internet access that makes a man crazy. But this was a can, so he was pretty short. I was fairly sure I could take him in a fight.

The smug look on his tab spoke volumes of his feelings of superiority. He shouted to me in the raspy voice of a 50-year-old lifetime smoker, "Hey brother! Hey! Hey, listen!" I kept walking. "Hey, hey, look!," he continued. I kept walking.

As I walked away, he shouted, "I'm better than Pepsi!"

My pace was brought to a halt. I turned. I walked back. I could feel the rage building in my testicles (I'm pretty sure that's where rage comes from).

My initial thought was that this Coke was on crack. I once heard that crack rots your teeth out, and this can had no teeth at all. I looked down, pointed a stern finger at his tab, and proclaimed the truth!

"Coke tastes like foot gravy!"

"Oh yeah?! Well Pepsi tastes li-"

"DON'TYOUTALKABOUTPEPSI!"

I kicked him with the Power of a thousand Rangers and watched him disappear. He vanished almost as quickly as my foot stuck him.

Did you know there was no apostrophe in the title screen of "Mighty Morphin Power Rangers?" There should have been one at the end of the word, "Morphin," but there never was. Don't believe me? Too bad.

I stood still, watching the sky. I was pretty sure I'd see a twinkle or something. I kinda kick like a beast, ya know?

I saw a twinkle - but it was in front of me, right on the path the can flew. After a few cautious steps, it was within arm's reach. A bright, tiny speck of white light. "I would like to touch this," I stated for the sake of narration, as I reached out my hand.

Before I could touch it (Dang! I really wanted to touch it), it exploded. The tiny speck of light expanded, rapidly, until I was consumed by it.

There was nothing but light - like those tv commercials where there's nothing but actors and white space.

to be continued...

Heidi Montag Falls on Her Brand New Face

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Thu, 21 Jan 2010 01:17:00 +0000

You know what I've been listening to a lot, lately?

Apparently, it's the worst album, ever. According to the Neilson SoundScan, Heidi Montag's Superficial sold 658 copies in it's first week.

Seriously, no typo.

I didn't see it coming. A lot of celebrities think they can sing - and a lot of them sell records. Heidi? She must be friggin' magic, 'cause this is the saddest thing I've ever seen. Even sadder than hearing about her recent plastic surgery shopping spree.

Personally, I think the album's a blast. I've been stuck on it, all week. And, honestly, I think her real mistake was making the record without a major record label. According to a very sad interview, Heidi dumped every dollar of her own money into making the album, herself (Ignore the part where she compares the album to Thriller). But, without a label, she had zero promotion, near-zero radio play, and a digital-only release.

She thought she could become a pop star, all by herself. That only shows that she doesn't know crap about pop music.

In conclusion, I present Heidi Montag's "Changes: 2006-2010," a photo montage telling the story of her surgical transformation, set to a track from the new album, "I'll Do It."

For some dumb reason, this was posted on her official YouTube account.

The Dumbness. Bet That Hurt.

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Mon, 11 Jan 2010 21:29:00 +0000

Today, I was thinking about this one Sunday, years ago. I was helping out in the children's service, at church. Some kids were playing a game while the rest were cheering them on.

Why don't regular church services have games?

Anyway... this one girl was doing some dumb thing that I can't really remember. I know I thought it was dumb. Whatever it was (we'll just call it "the dumbness"), it ended with her falling on her head and crying a lot. I figure that's probably how it should have ended.

I would imagine at least some teenagers know what to do in a situation like this one. But I had no idea. In fact, I remember standing there, looking around, waiting for some adult to come over and do whatever needed to be done to stop the girl from crying. Instead, what I got from the nearest adult was a, "Well? Don't just stand there. Do something!" look. I swiftly replied with my, "Do I look like I know what to do?" look. She rushed over and took care of the situation.

Let me give you a peak inside my head. I'll tell you what went through my mind when that girl did the dumbness and fell on her head:

That was dumb.
I bet that hurt.
She'll be fine.
She's crying pretty hard, but I can't fix her head.
...How do you fall on your head?

As it turns out, I should have taken the girl to go put water on her head. According to the adult who did that, "water fixes everything."

Apparently water, in addition to the properties I previously noted, possesses analgesic properties, allowing it to serve as an impromptu painkiller in situations such as this.

Who knew?

Mmm, Tasteless! - Drinking Tons of Water

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 17:13:00 +0000

So, over winter break, I heard that most people live in a constant state of dehydration. I'd heard that before and ignored it. But this time, I figured, "What the heck?"

I decided to follow the advice I'd heard, took my weight in pounds, divided it by two, and drank that many ounces of water each day. I have no idea where that formula came from, but like I said, "What the heck?" I've been doing that for almost a we-...

Sorry. Had to pee...

I've done that for almost a week. And what have I noticed?
1. More pee.
2. No thirst.
3. Smoother poops.
4. More pee.
5. Fast food combos only save you money if you want a soda.

2010 People's Choice Awards!

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 15:50:00 +0000

60 million people voted for last night's People's Choice Awards, and the people's choice was to give Jessica Alba the People's Choice Award for

"World Dominating Looking-Goodness in a Dress."

It was quite a victory. The award was presented by President Barack Obama, himself. Jessica accepted her award graciously, dedicating it to me, and immediately proceeded to tweet me about it.

All in all, a good night.

Blue Socks

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 05:34:00 +0000

My socks are all turning to a blueish gray. Apparently, you really do need to wash whites and colors separately. Totally not an urban legend. Consider my mind blown.

Thing is, I only have, like, one white shirt. The rest of my white laundry is just the socks. And I hardly even wear socks, because I'm hooked on flip-flops.

This means I'll be saving my socks for weeks in order to get a laundry load's worth.

So, really, that shouldn't pose a problem. If I don't wear socks often, I won't wash socks often. But the thought of dirty socks sitting around for weeks? That's just gross.

And I know what you're thinking, "Just wash them a few at a time." But really? I'm not going to wash and dry three pairs of socks. That's stupid. What would Al Gore say, wasting all that water? Next time you think of something stupid like that, keep it to yourself...

How Long Ya Been Hidin' That?!

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 22:52:00 +0000

Noise. I'm developing a low tolerance for it. Normally, that would be fine, except, due to years of unfortunately acceptable grades, I've found myself in college. *shiver*

Let me tell you about the other day...

I have a class. It's called, The, um, Multi...cultural Environmentalism and, uh, the Fanaticasmic... Structure of... Interracial Business.

Yeah, something like that. Whatever. It's hard. My teacher rambles about, "Asians do this, Americans do that, Africans do this, there's plastic in the ocean, my liberal bias is apparent, blah blah blah." Then, on the test, we have to write every single word she's ever said. Seriously. When I was taking her test, I thought my pen had started writing in the wrong color. Turns out, it was bleeding. When I finished, the pen cried, "Chris, Chris, why hast thou forsaken me?!" Then it exploded in a fiery ball of blue flame that engulfed the girl who used to sit in front of me.

So, when midterm time rolled around, I knew I needed to study my balls off (that's how David Bowie studied music). And to do that, I needed to escape the noisy environment of my dormitory and make my way to the the library.

See, I need true quiet to study. No television. No music. No people talking in the hallway. No students tapping at their keyboards. No people walking past me. As you'll see, this level of quieticity is difficult to achieve, even in a library.

Fortunately, our library has these awesome rooms, called "student studies." Basically, it's a Porta-John with a desk instead of a toilet. And it doesn't move. Sounds perfect for a guy who needs to isolate himself, right? The problem is, I'd never found an empty one. Regardless, I headed up to the second floor, where I knew these rooms were, in search of one of these Porta-Desks. But, sure enough, they were all taken, save a few in which the lights don't work.

Now, the first floor of the library is about as busy as an airport, and I could tell by walking around, that the second floor wasn't going to be quiet enough, either. So I headed to the third. What was on the third floor, I had no idea. As best as I can remember, I had never been. See, I've never had a teacher that made me look for a book. I'd never had a reason to explore the building.

As I reached the third floor, I saw the most comforting sight you could ever see: Claire Huxtable.

No... No...

What I saw wasn't comforting, at all. In fact, it was infuriating. What I saw was a sign noting that the third floor was designated a "quiet study" area.

BOB SAGET!

HOW LONG YA BEEN HIDIN' THAT?!

After cleaning up my pee puddle, I went exploring. And what did I find? Effing student studies! Just as many as there were on the second floor! After cleaning up my pee puddle, I went to find an empty one. And I did - easily! I even tried studying there for an hour before the kids laughing in the room two doors down drove me out of my dang mind!

I packed my crap, and off I went, still looking for a quiet place. Where? In no man's land. Where is "no man's land?" It's where the books are. Get it? 'Cause no one in the school library is ever where the books are... heheh.

*sigh*

And there, around the corner, in no man's land, I found it. One small row of student studies. I think there were just four.

First one...?

Taken.

Second one...?

Taken.

Third one...?

EMPTY!

JACKPEEZY!

After cleaning up my pee puddle, I went in and got some awesome studying done.

The End.

Words of Wisdom for New Pirates

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 23:38:00 +0000

College. My return approches.

It’s only been a couple weeks since summer sessions, but I’m ready. Why?

I go to ECU!

Pirate Country, fool!

Slap somebody!

I’ll tell ya what: I hate school. I love East Carolina University.

I dunno, maybe I’m just biased (I am), but there’s something great about stepping on the ECU campus. I don’t believe in “energies” or anything like that, but whatever it is, you can feel it.

I look forward to it.

But one thing I've done over my break is step up my Twitter presence (follow me, fool!). I've been trying to connect with not only Greenville, but ECU students. And I've found a lot of incoming students. So I figured I'd do my part, as an experienced Pirate, and share a few things I feel new Pirates ought to know.

So, being the bum that I am, I took what was going to be a list of my favorite things about ECU, and turned it into a list of things new students ought to know about.

I'm a genius.

Check your email constantly
Yeah, I doubt it’s really ECU-specific, but good heavens! These teachers email you constantly – about really important stuff. Route it your phone, if you can. Don’t be surprised when you get emails telling you about homework assignments due the next day or classes cancelled that morning. It happens every semester. These teachers, like all teachers, are pure evil.

Ride the “drunk bus”
Do it. I’m not telling you to get drunk. I’m just telling you to ride the late bus on the weekend, with the people who are drunk. That's good times. Singing and dancing, puking, kissing on dares, cats and dogs living together, mass hysteria! (sorry)

Go to Christy’s
Christy’s Euro Pub is a great place to hang out and chill. It’s on… um… Jarvis Street? Ask somebody, everybody knows it. If I loved you guys, I’d look this stuff up for you…
Anyways, the hot dogs are bangin', great atmosphere, and it’s a pub. It's an all-around cool spot.
Check out Christy's on Facebook and MySpace.

Don’t wear your NC State gear
I don't know, people just don’t seem to take kindly to it…

Ignore the squirrels
I know. They’re everywhere, they’re cute, and they're comfortable around people. That’s all very interesting. But they’re more intelligent than you, and if you threaten them, they will kill you and make it look like an accident. If you try to scare, catch or play with one of these beasts, and you wake up dead, under a tree, next to a banana peel, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Don't take math with online homework

Worst idea, ever. I made this mistake once, and I'll never make it again. If your math teacher assigns homework and quizzes through MyMathLab, just drop it. Get another teacher.

Remember Chanello’s

Chanello’s Pizza is a great spot for close, cheap, late-night eats. And it’s good! They’re on Charles Blvd, right in front of Harris Teeter (easy walk from College Hill), and they’re open ‘til like, 3am. Did I mention it was cheap? And good?

Don’t get shot
Seriously. There's been a bit of a jump in violent crime, since spring semester. I know it seems like downtown is right next door (and it is), but don't let that fool you into thinking you're still on campus. Security has been ramped up, but still, just be careful.

Ride your bike on the road, not on the sidewalk
Don't do it. I’ll hate you.

Learn to walk in heels, or don’t wear them
Ladies. if you’re going to dress to impress and wear your heels downtown, learn how to walk in them. The only thing that looks worse than a hammered chick, clinging to the neck of her girlfriend, yelling at strangers on the street at 2am is a sober girl, carrying her own shoes. It’s just a sad sight.

Now, wasn't that educational?

Wait... I forgot one thing... If you're downtown and somebody from G-Vegas Magazine stops you and your friends, asking if you want to be in a picture - huddle. Huddle quickly. You don't wanna look like a "that guy" with your own friends. I've been there...

Have fun.
Be safe.
Study.

Oh, and uh... ARRRRRRRGH!

Critical Txts?

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 02:42:00 +0000

I've heard my father say that people are wasting too much time on their phones, these days. He feels that the time we spend talking on the phone or sending text messages (he doesn't even know about Twitter) would be better spent with our friends and family or doing what he calls, "critical thinking."

I can see where he's coming from. It bums me out, too, when we're trying to do something as a family and my mom gets a 10-minute phone call. And I feel pretty bad when he notices me tapping away at my phone while he's talking.
Whoops...

"Critical thinking" is what Dad calls devoting your full attention to one subject, like your future, and really pounding your brain. And there's no denying it - it's amazing what you can think up when you're really just thinking. It's so important that we take time to stop and think about our lives. It's so easy to live one day at a time, facing obstacles as we reach them, all the while, losing sight of our ultimate goals.

Think.
Think a lot.

After pondering that for a while, I found it fitting to devote some critical thought to this cell phone business...

And I've concluded that I don't see a problem with spending time on your phone, be it talking, texting, Facebook, Twitter, whatever. What matters is what you're doing and why.
Are you helping someone?
Are you sharing important information?
Are you listening to someone who needs an open ear?
Are you encouraging someone?
Heck - are you making money?

Those are things that really matter when they're done face-to-face, and I see no reason why doing them over the phone would diminish there value.

But if you're on your phone so you don't get bored waiting on your mocha, or because you haven't checked your email in half an hour, maybe you should just ignore it and devote your attention to your current situation. You could even try some critical thinking.

...says the guiltiest guy...

Sleep Is... How Would I Know?

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Fri, 24 Jul 2009 23:55:00 +0000

I don't sleep much.

Generally speaking, it's on purpose. I've never been one to sleep for fun. I guess I never let go of the childish logic: awake is better than asleep. My thinking has always been that if I can stay awake all day without getting all cranky, I got enough sleep, and that sleeping any more than that would be a waste of time that I could use doing something fun. So I get about four to six hours a night. After six hours, I wake up on my own. I can go back to sleep if I want, I just can't convince myself to go to sleep early...

It doesn't bother me too much. It seems natural to resist sleep. Babies fight sleep with no capacity to provide any kind of reason. But I can't help but wonder if I live in some sub-normal state of existence...

I'm working on it...

...You guys see giraffes when you blink, too, right...?

The Best of Michael Jackson

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 02:14:00 +0000

Sales of Michael Jackson's music have skyrocketed since his untimely death. Unfortunately, the two best-selling Michael Jackson albums have been greatest hits collections, followed by the album everyone has heard ("Thriller"). As glad as I am that new people are being exposed to his music, there's so much great stuff that people just won't find in those collections.

So, when I decided to make an iTunes iMix of my personal favorite Michael Jackson songs (oddly, ordered by album title), I decided I should share it. My favorites aren't exactly the world's favorites.

Does anybody ever buy iMixes? I doubt it. Regardless, I think it's a pretty cool way to publish a playlist and just making the list was fun, however difficult.

Check it out, if you want. Unless you're a die hard fan, there's probably something on there that you haven't heard.

All Kids Are Liberals

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 05:33:00 +0000

Then half of them grow up.

...Now, for those of you still reading, let me tell you a story.

While eating dinner, yesterday, I thought of something to post on Twitter. I was a passing thought, but I thought it'd make a funny tweet:

"In preschool, my teacher said, "If you have two or more of something,
you should share." I've been a conservative ever since."

As I returned to my room, I realized how true that statement was. I was an exception to the rule. As a small child, I already held the basic belief on which my economic views are founded: people shouldn't be forced to share. That's something that stuck with me to present day.

Ownership.

The security of one's earnings and possessions.

The right to choose who to give to and how.

Yep, that's right. I was that kid who didn't share.

Say I have five of my favorite cookies - Oreos. Little (fictional) Joey wants one, so he asks for it. I say, "no." Now, Joey takes offense. He feels he's been wronged. I had five cookies, all to myself, and I wouldn't even let him have one!

My thinking was that the Oreos were mine. Joey didn't need them. So why should I give up something I have and want? I didn't owe it to him! Yeah, sure, it would be a kind gesture to give my friend something that would please him. But at the expense of my own pleasure? Give of myself to please him, just for the sake of making him happy...?

We ain't in love! It ain't his birthday!

Besides, I never, never, neeever asked for some of anyone else's food. Why would I? I had food. I wasn't gonna to go hungry. If they had my favorite cookies (Oreos - this has been established), that's good for them. I wasn't entitled to them, and I had no desire to short-change them for my own pleasure.

I had lunchroom arguments all the time, through elementary school and middle school (my mom packed good lunches), because I simply couldn't stand that people felt entitled to what I had, just because they wanted it.

Here's how one of those conversations would play out:

Joey: "Can I have a cookie?"

Me: "No..."

Joey: "Aw, come on, just one!"

Me: "I said noOo!"

"Why not?"

"'Cuz it's mine! You got food! Eat your food!"

"Yeah, but you got cooookies!"

"Yeah, I do! And I don't wanna gi'm away!"

"Dukey-head!"

"Butt-face!"

Eventually, I learned that it was better to give a little something away, even if they didn't need it, rather than to have your friends have a conniption and call you "greedy," "stingy," or "dukey-head." You look like a jerk in front of everybody.

But, I didn't have much trouble in high school. When I pulled out my Altoids tin and all my friends' hands came out, I shared.

You may be thinking, "Wouldn't you want people to share with you?"

Not really.

I've pretty much hated asking people for things, my whole life. Like sharing, I've grown better at it. I've learned to accept offers when I think they're genuine and to ask for help, when I need it - sometimes.

Just know that if I ask you for a mint, it's because I know my breath stinks, and I'm doing you a favor. If I ask you for something more significant, I probably really need it, or I can't come up with any other reasonable way to remedy my situation.

Devastating

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 02:17:00 +0000

Outside of family and friends, no one could be harder to lose.

It's probably best that I don't talk much about it, online or elsewhere, because I wouldn't expect many to understand how I feel. But, like I always said, he's the best there ever was. To say "he'll be missed," would be an understatement. Especially coming from me.

I Forgot to Bring My White Chicks to School

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 04:04:00 +0000

I was sitting in my jazz class when I realized that the Cloverfield monster was on my arm. After managing to get-get that-that bug off my shoulder, lose it, find it and kill it without making a (huge) scene, I checked my shirt. That's when I noticed that I was wearing my Vanessa Carlton t-shirt, which, of course, reminded me of this:

I totally left my White Chicks DVD at home! Then I went home, last weekend, and forgot it again... And before you suggest it, I'm not going to rent it and I'm not going to buy it, again.
I have principles...

"Well, Chris, what movies do you have at school?"
I'm glad you asked!

Back to the Future
Back to the Future Part II
Back to the Future Part III
Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure
Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey
Kylie Minogue: Body Language Live
Cloverfield
Coming To America
The Dukes of Hazzard: The Beginning
The Dukes of Hazzard
Dumb and Dumberer: When Harry Met Lloyd
Flash Point
Friday
The Glass House
Glass House: The Good Mother
I, Robot
The Karate Kid
The Karate Kid II
The Karate Kid Part III (Why'd they only use "part" for the third one?)
Money Talks
The Next Karate Kid
Pauly Shore is Dead
Return of the Ghostbusters
Sex and the City: The Movie
The Sweetest Thing
Tron

Now. Wasn't that educational? You know me so much better, now!