Sunday, February 27, 2005

Hey Dad, wanna have a catch?

I don't know how it has escaped me all these years. The truth has been right there, right in front of all of us, practically crying out for discovery. I think that Kevin Costner may be my father. Unbelievable? Hardly. Some years ago, before I began high school, my mom (God rest her soul) and I were going through her high school yearbooks. I was shocked to see Kevin Costner's smiling, goofy face several pages in front of my mom's, in the junior class section. "Mom!", I probably said, "Kevin Costner is in your yearbook!" She then told me the tale of Kevin Costner's years of high school in Visalia, CA. Apparently he was a dorky drama kind of kid, new to the school and relatively unknown. Not to my mom, though who was herself a drama club member, and I'm guessing, was attracted to outsiders. Kevin, or dad I should say, tried unsuccessfully, or so my mom said, to date a friend of my mom's, and then, incredibly my mother herself. After high school, her memory faded, and presumably Costner (daddy) went off to minor league baseball tryouts, or film school or something. I never knew the man who was supposed to be my dad, he left when I was very young. It seems obvious now that the truth was kept from me, because my mom was embarrased to have conceived me out of wedlock, in high school, to a drama nerd. The man sold to me as my father was a college football player, and a cowboy. (This is where my name Justin comes from, ala Justin Boots) My mom wanted me to be strong, and so she wanted me to think that I cam from hearty, All-American stock. Too bad she didn't give Kevin Costner a chance. The resemblances are obvious. Our tall, gawky builds. Our love affair with baseball, and the wide open spaces the game is best played in. I'm sure there are others. And the final scene in "Field of Dreams", where Costner meets the ghost of his father (if you build it, he will come), and they play their first game of catch on that baseball diamomd cut from an Iowa cornfield, do you know the scene? I cry every time I see it. Now I know why. I don't want Costner's money. I just want to play catch with my pop on a warm summer afternoon. I'm starting to cry right now.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

In remembrance of Occy the cat (?/2004-2005)

Hey Chloe Dove,
Terrific poem, although I was frightened by the part about not paying attention to the other drivers around you. Driving requires that you react to the other drivers on the road, especially since everyone else besides me and the rest of the enforcers (you know who you are) have hideous driving skills. Sorry too about the grammar police, but my friends are hyper-intelligent intellectual giants, and many of them won't stand for a corruption of the English language. With respect to the perceived gayness of the male pop star world--sorry to tread on your turf. All I know is that I saw Nick Lachey wearing pants with the legs rolled up, a ribbed t-shirt with no sleeves, and huge diamond earrings-all at the same time. I dont profess to be an expert gay spotter, but come on. Plus my friend Bill totally loves him, and he has a huge soft spot in his heart for the gays. (See Federal Cheese blog entry Feb 9) If you and my friend Jody meet in Orange County, maybe you could come up and we'll all go to Olive Garden Santa Maria! Hospitaliano! I'll have the Southwest Chicken ALfredo Asian Carbonara Santa Fe Low Carb Pepper encrusted Wrap.
Hey everyone else,
Today is a fucking horrible day. My close friend's kitten was hit by a maniacal driver last night. Occy the cat is dead. I was a surrogate father to the young animal, and a piece of me died with him. His speed and grace were unmatched, as was his love of humans. Anyone with a special pet out there, hold them a little closer today, and treasure the spark that they bring to your life.

Friday, February 18, 2005

Intelligence Failure

You know how you feel like you are smarter than everyone, with the exception of-oh I don't know doctors, or something? Yeah, I know, I'm the same way. However, there are those times when you realize that your intelligence cannot be surpassed, even by those members of society entrusted with maintaining your health and safety. And here I'm referring to my therapist. By all means, if you are struggling with depression or anxiety or something, seek therapy. What will happen is you will think to yourself, "hey, no shit" after everything that you hear your therpist suggest. This will be helpful, though indirectly, and it will also do nothing to curb your arrogance. Although it just occured to me that maybe my particular therapist is an inpostor, just like in the film 'Mumford'. It also just occured to me how awesome that would be.
One of my neighbors is a thirtyish single mom, raising a little boy, I'm guessing that he is 8. The mom is hot. The horrifying part is that she sort of reminds me of my mom when I was 8. Not the "hot" part, the single mom part. I'm torn between wanting a hot love affair and wanting her to come over to do my laundry and make me fish sticks and Mac and cheese for dinner.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

I will finally write my paper after this entry, I promise

I have learned so much in the last two days. Most importantly I learned that I was paid $4o for mileage driving to a recent archaeological job. This means that I can purchase: 3 cds or one pair of shoes (running) or one pair of pants or ...what? Not quite as importantly I learned some very interesting information from Discover magazine. Did you know that: Airplanes have to make allowances for volcanos when they fly? Pretty much anywhere in the world there is volcanic ash in the air-too much of which will make the plane crash into the earth killing all passengers on board (potentially you). Also, there are archaeologists working with NASA to make the site of the first landing on the moon (Tranquility Base) an historic archaeological site, to be managed by the National Parks Service. Even less importantly I learned that on late night political talk shows, you can say pretty much whatever you want because they think that no one is watching besides drunkish twenty something guys shouting at the television in their boxer shorts...which got me thinking that I could be on one of these shows as a guest political commentator and here is what I might say:
I believe that the Bush administration not only knew about but PLANNED the 9/11 attacks. This was to draw attention away from the real battle being waged against the Knights Templar and a desperate fight to conceal the pagan nature of Christ from the world. Von Danniken's work prophecied a "second coming" of our astral ancestors, the very same alien race that is responsible for the fantastic technological innovations of the Mayans and the Atlanteans. This second coming will destroy the leaders of men! Then the true masters of the human race, the mighty rulers of the planet Myythryyycinkk, led by the benevolent Izzzxxxckkzxxz, shall assume their rightful place on the throne. The tales of the resurrection of Osiris-Dionysus shall be made manifest as Osiris-Dionysus-Mithras-Christ returns to life a staggering third, fourth, fifth, and sixth time, to challenge Izzzxxxckkzxxz for the hearts and souls of men. The Pentagon and Bush's dark cabal have made a vile bargain with Izzzxxxckkzxxz, inviting the sinister alien race back to the world that the heroic Rosicrucian Knights so valiantly defended eons ago. 9/11 was only the beginning...
(I copied this from something I wrote somewhere else, btw)
Finally I learned that Jessica Simpson's husband, Nick something?-That guy is definitely gay. Bill, if you are reading this you should check out his show.

Saturday, February 12, 2005

I want to fight Conor Oberst

I realize that there are quite a few Bright eyes fans out there, but jesus how can you stand him? I want to punch him so hard, right in the throat. I am bothered by: a) his fucking hair b) his whining songs c) ok some of his songs are not bad d) I cant deal with the look on his face, ever e) the way he has the NYC skyline on his new album--am I supposed to feel something about that? I cant help but hate. Im a hater.
Dear Chloe Dove,
Oh Chloe. I cant believe that I hurt your feelings. You are so right about the title "Really Going Against My Better Judgment". That was insensitive of me. You deserve better. So I'm sorry. Here is a list for you:
#1 Jody is a man.
#2 Joshua is not yet famous. Actualy, he may be in the Ultimate Fighting world. I just don't know.
#3 I don't have any fondness for gold or silver. I value the human heart so much more than any precious metals. (gold)
#4 I can't really speak for the fake Chloes of the world. There is such a mystery surrounding Chloe Dove that I dont know what to believe. But your poem was clearly superior to the fake Chloe Dove's poem.
#5 I love Baskin and Robbins Ice Cream Cakes so fucking much.
#6 Tommy, my god no. Thomas, absolutely yes.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

My friend Joshua Fitzou Hillis

May be the most active man on earth. Really anyone reading this ought to go check out his blog on myspace. CAUTION: Do not under any circumstances read his entries if you feel sort of unsatisfied with your own life, and you know who you are, because you will very much feel lifeless and boring in comparison with the man known as Joosh. For me an exciting day consists of surfing before class, interesting lectures, a light blogging after class, hopefully another surf, and maybe going to the movies and enjoying a burrito afterward. An exciting day for Josh would begin with an invigorating 16 mile jog while balancing a very heavy log across his shoulders, meeting three or four girls while getting a post jog smoothie. Next he may attend a brasilian (note the 's') ju-jitsu class, meeting four or five hot students and inviting them out for a Beck's beer commercial type experience. The day would end by working on an international business plan involving tremendous amounts of personal growth and motivation, meeting five or six hot business partner girls and planning a trip to the Carribbean for cocktails, laughter. I'm exaggerating to make a point, but also I'm not. See for yourself. Visit Joshua Hillis blog on myspace, or click on his name above a comment on my blog. Make some popcorn. Pour a drink. Take notes. Resist urge to move to Denver and mentor underneath him. Resist urge to down bottle of sleeping pills to "start over" in the next life.

Monday, February 07, 2005

Dreams are when you think while sleeping

I dreamt last night of snow. In my dream I was in a living room with large windows, and the weather outside went from unnoticable to snow. Even in my dream I had never seen snow, so I went outside to have my first look at it. I was wearing shorts and I was barefoot. The snow was alarmingly heavy. I mean each individual snowflake weighed more than I thought it should. Other people were in the house, and they all came out to check out the snow. No one else seemed concerned about the heaviness or the immense cold. I went back in.

Friday, February 04, 2005

Really going against my better judgment now

Hmmm. Ok I'll play, but I will make my own poll questions, ok?
Middle name: Thomas
Favorite Zombie flick: Dawn of the Dead (original)
Favorite Pitch: 2 seam fastball
Favorite Animal: cow
Favorite foot: right
Favorite time to shower: 4pm
Last time I vomited: 2002
Most bored ever: 2003, 2005 (tie)
Longest drive ever: 18 hours straight
Most money ever spent at once: $5,600
Worst job ever: Jiffy Lube
Favorite temperature: 81 degrees
Favorite shirt ever: This one T&C Surf designs shirt I had when I was like 12
Hardest key to find on keyboard: "&"
Best thing I ever saw on TV: This one nature show in which an African bushman needed to find water so he captured
a baboon and tied it to a boulder in the middle of the sun, and he somehow made it
lick this salt, and then the baboon got really thirsty, and the bushman just waited
under a tree in the shade playing with a stick for a couple of hours, and then he
finally released the baboon which went running off to its favorite water source, and
the bushman followed it, finding the water he needed for his tribe.
Best way to spend afternoon without surfing: Playing a round of golf with no shoes on, and plenty of beer
Favorite city ever: Vancouver, Taft (tie)

Thursday, February 03, 2005

Housman to deduce mind of God

I wonder if I will see naked boobs over Mardi-Gras. I also wonder when Mardi-Gras is. I wondered earlier today if "The Boogeyman" movie will be good. I think that maybe it won't be. I also wondered if my car will run indefintely. I considered whether or not I would be able to play for an entire inning in the outfield during a major league baseball game without looking like I didn't belong there. I walked by the rec center and I considered what it would be like to be "buff". I wondered how if Jesus was divine and human, his sacrifice as a sinless being has any relevance to Christians at all. I thought about would happen if I was to try to talk my way out of a late fee at Insomniac Video, using Blockbuster's No Late Fee program as precedent. I wondered about my roommate from San Diego, Lee, and whether or not he spelled his name "Lee" or "Leigh".
And then I wondered about Don Cheadle.

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Time is Too Expensive

My vast knowledge of rhyme is past college, blast demolish polish off all enemies. I can't fall in this rap game, I got acrophobia. Plus half these rappers out here are dead like necrophilia. You know the thing, chocolate like Ovaltine, comin' down on the mic like eggs from ovaries. Monarchal metaphor. Malevolent with settlements. Maniacal when heiro flow, unstoppable and chock full of funk the freak, so fuck the foreplay! Del has been ordained to terrorize your brain.