are you there god?

i have decided (drunkenly) to start blogging again. This is a test.

I am obsessed with these tests

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

better than saddam hussein...

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Dear Chloe and other people

Well well well. Hmmmmmm. You are quite the insightful commenter Chloe. Terribly sorry about the car accident, and nope, I have never hit and run anyone at all. I would have done the exact same thing that you did I think. Are you guys hiring any managers or supervisors at your work?

what about the jews? is affirmative action effective? are you seeing anyone?

eat, drink, get undressed. walk, sleep, think, talk. listen to music, watch movies, drink wine. play with cats, walk the beach. eat at restaurants, attend lectures, draw pictures. brush teeth, do laundry, stare out the window, drive through the country. make love, read sartre, throw rocks at tree stumps. listen to npr, put on deodorant, water the plants, take digital photos, curse the president. cry, write research papers, drink beer in the afternoon. sautee mushrooms, change the oil, ponder the progress of science. wash the dishes, go to matinees, envy those more fortunate. wear sweaters, juggle, drink coffee on sunday mornings. nap, think, argue. walk in the rain, pay taxes, change your life.

maybe hzablog is not dead yet

i can honestly say that i never actually realized that a year was so long until right now. three hundred and sixty five is a whole bunch of days. chloe, i...i...

marion berry is still alive?

i am such a geek. never before...ok, not since top gun came out in 1986, did i have even a faint inkling of patriotism, but son of a bitch if the nation's capital hasn't made me (gulp) proud to be an american? yeah, i teared up a bit at the world war II memorial. the actual declaration of independence, the honest to god constitution? how could i not be moved? actually, it was places like the treasury, agriculture, and commerce department buildings that seem important, i guess because things that ostensibly shape the laws governing my behavior are going on inside them, but whatever the reason, i love washington d.c. i also love benjamin and his lovely lady caitlin. more gracious hosts i could not possiblly imagine. benjamin thank you for the use of the digital camera and the air bed and caitlin. wait, you knew about that right?
seriously though people, go to washington d.c. go ahead and go right now.

this christmas marked the official return to my having christmas with a family. and christmas with this new family (my aunt's common-law husband's actually) reminded me greatly of family christmasses in the past. a good deal of anger, bickering, and awkward gift-receiving. the award for the most unexpected gift given goes to my aunt's boyfriend steve- a 2 million candlepower flashlight that you wield like a big handgun, with a trigger and everything. i never knew how much i needed one of those until i charged the battery and lit up the ocean beach neighborhood at three a.m.

to finish with my recap of the past few weeks, i spent a day in los angeles on the way home from san diego, and decided to go see 'the ringer', starring johnny knoxville as a pretend retard trying to win the special olympics. 'the ringer' is unequivocally the worst movie ever made. there is no doubt. quite a relief actually, knowing that i have finally seen the apex of shitty movie-making. i recommend that anyone reading this go see it, that way we can all have an idea of how bad a movie can be, even when it has one of the most promising premises imaginable.

leo mazzone- pitching coach for the atlanta braves; chess master

i decided a couple of summers ago that i would learn, that summer, how to ride a motorcycle. this has little to do with anything except to illustrate that i sometimes have ideas about things i would like to learn how to do. or sometimes i wish to be much better at things that i already know how to do. most recently, i've considered the possibility of playing chess by myself, which seems like a great way to get better. ok, once i saw a guy play chess against himself, and he played very quickly and efficiently, and it was really great. so i didn't exactly come up with this idea out of nowhere. but anyway, there is a guy sitting by me playing chess by himself right now. he is rocking and swaying back and forth in his chair to the point that i fear he will slip off and fall onto the ground. he is wearing a very long and very interesting blue jacket that might be considered a trenchcoat. he runs his hands through his filthy hair between moves and clearly is putting a great deal of thought into his task. he may very well be crazy. and now that i watch more closely, he is putting his hand on pieces and taking it off without moving the piece, and sometimes he makes a move, then thinks better of it and returns the piece to its original space. so now i'm considering how difficult it may be to observe the rules of the game while playing against yourself. would i favor black or white? would i feel a sense of triumph and loss at the end of each match? would i end up wearing a trenchcoat and nervously list side to side in front of complete strangers? would i get better at chess? god, life is really hard.

The Greatest Favorite Band Ever

wow, this girl working at linnea's is sure in a mood to play weezer in any form that she can find it: b-sides, acoustic, import, plain old regular blue album, you name it. although, nothing of course after pinkerton. it hurts so much to hear 'only in dreams'. hurts in a good good way. i spent probably 90% of my high school career with that song either in my head, or laying on the floor of my room with a candle lit, staring at the ceiling, dreamily lusting after every girl who wasn't my girlfriend, absolutely caught up in the throw of adolescence. i imagine that rivers cuomo lives the same way now, may very well be rocking his fucking heart out to the soaring guitar riffs at the end of that song, feet pounding the floor, a sweaty hand reaching over to the repeat button to play that song again and again and again. god i miss that band.

Nihilism, Cynicism, Sarcasm, and Orgasm

it took only two months for me to purchase a computer and then get in trouble for illegal file sharing. i received an e-mail from cal poly as well as the legal team at hbo concerning the illegal downloading of curb your enthusiasm episode 6, season 5. what this means is that until i remove the episode and the program that i used to download it, i am no longer able to use the wirless internet connection at cal poly. i understand hbo's issue, but cal poly's restriction of my wireless account because i used it to illegally download something is absurd to me. i don't see how the university could be held liable. that would be analagous to ford motor co. being liable for damages because i used a ford as a get away car to rob a bank. it makes no sense. is the university assuming a moral stance that is opposed to file sharing? i do not understand.

i recently found myself driving around listening to music on a lovely sunday afternoon. i was listening to sufjan stevens for a little while and then i took out sufjan, in favor of a little john davis (formerly of superdrag). it then occured to me that both of those artists are christian musicians. john davis especially so. as a matter of fact, jody and i recently discovered that john davis is available at the parable. sufjan stevens however, is not. i never would have thought that i would be listening to music about the saving grace of christ, but there i was, back to back christian rockers. what does this mean? apparently it means that lyrics are either occasionally of secondary importance to the music, or that the listener needs not to relate to the songwriter very much at all to enjoy their songs. what do you think?

is rain bad for an ibook?

how the word fat could apply to me in any way is a mystery to me, but thanks ben, i would love to have gone. caitlin will just have to wait a little longer. and jody my friend, interesting that you would make reference to zooropa there, because i just read a lengthy interview with bono in rolling stone, and he and i agree that the best u2 song is "stay". he and i share the belief that Passengers is one of their finest albums, and now that I think about it, i listen to way too much melancholy music.

and another thing about caitlin, ben. big boobs do nothing for me anymore. at a certain point, you know, there they are, and you can do some things with them and all, but really, they don't serve a great deal of purpose. maybe this is a cyclical thing, and later in life i will become breast obsessed, lord knows i've been there before, but my tastes have become so much more refined. i have just now officially become uncomfortable referencing your girlfriends boobs on a public sphere, especially since i have never actually spoken to or seen this person. don't hate me caitlin, ben and jody started all this, and if i don't continue it, my heterosexuality will be questioned, and we can't have that now can we.

speaking of which, the aesthetic appeal of the ibook may impart an aesthtic appeal to the owner of the machine as well. twice now, my computer has been an "in" for a girl at linnea's to initiate conversation. so now, it never leaves my side, i've devised a holster for it that i sling around my hips to give me quick draw abilities at any approach of a foxy coffeehouse patron.

the doctor is in

i am the relationship doctor. do you have any questions about your relationship that you would like answered? pose them to me, and i will amaze you. i will amaze you with how little i actually know about what girls want. and this utter lack of understanding will force a realiztion on your part that you are much better off in your difficult situation than i could possibly be, and immediately you will know what to do to make things right. well to be precise, you will know what not to do. you see i am more of a relationship shaman. my mysterious incantations and utterly meaningless gibberish will put you into a dream-state, and in this hyper-aware state, the truth that you seek will come to you, though it will be the literal opposite from any actual advice that i am liable to blurt out without thinking. hit me up. i'll cruise on by and fix you up.
-dr housman

Week from heaven, week from hell

you know what? a week can see a whole lot of things happen. quickly. you can, for example, have the week that i had which started off absolutley fucking great. it ended in quite literally the exact opposite way. how about that? in fact, the week was bookmarked with diametrically opposed sundays. i have always hated sunday. i always will.
hey, i don't know if you guys check the internet from the emerald isle, but jody, ben, nic-i got the voicemail. wow i wish that i was there with you guys. you should really have pressured me to finish school sooner so that i could be with you right now. it is all your fault. how different would today have been? probably a whole lot better. you all sound drunk by the way. seriously though, i really needed that phone call, it came at a great time. why were you all so concerned with the size of caitlin's boobs by the way? since you were drunk i will remind you that all you did was sing about how you wish that i was there, and that caitlin has huge tits. weirdly it sounded like josh was in the background.
to anyone else reading this, sorry that my blogs are so vanilla even when they do come, but i have massive writer's block. i will do my best, stay with me. oh and jody, here are some of the good pics that i took at the recording sesh. enjoy

social disadvantages of the impaired

Oh god. Dad. Fucking Google image search ruined my Kevin Costner is my dad fantasy.

Big Sur ist rad

What is awesome is when you are at Linnea's and the song that is also the ringtone used by your phone is playing on the cafe stereo, and then your phone rings, so your phone is also playing the same song and then everyone looks at you like, "oh great your phone is playing the same song as the cafe" and then you fumble to answer your phone, but drop it instead and then can't reach it, so it just keeps ringing and ringing, or rather playing and playing, and now everyone thinks that you are letting it ring on purpose, but then just when it can't get any worse, the song on the cafe stereo and your phone's song have linked up in a weird sort of harmony, and it actually sounds kind of rad now, but then your phone stops ringing. Ha Ha, embarrassing.

I'm erecting immaculate design

You may have trouble believing this, and most likely you will have no idea what I'm talking about here, but let me tell you about last night's dream. First of all, do you remember a band called Manhattan Transfer? They were like a more adult B-52s if I remember correctly. My mom loved them, especially a song called "Soul Food To Go". Now the video for this song is great, it is a little claymation animation bit, the subjects are the bandmembers and they do things, the specifics elude me. The point is that in my dream I am a child again, my mom is vacuuming our house, and I'm watching the video I just described. Somehow, I enter the TV and become an claymation figure myself, and then the best part-I become aware that I'm dreaming, and the dream continues. I have ultimate power, but the power is restricted to the powers of say, Rubberman or something, I'm super-stretchy, and can assume the shape of anything I want. I have to be honest with you here, there was a sexual element that was fucking fantastic. Mindblowing. The weirdest part though, was that I got bored and woke myself up. I didn't know when the dream would end, but I was done, so I just woke myself.

Let me tell you about the Protoculture

I never thought that I'd recover from the loss of you. Truth be told, I could never envision, even if I'd dared, a life without you. Since the glorious day that we first met, youv'e been there, day in and day out, eagerly awaiting my touch, and resonding to my touch with such a warm glow. I'd be thinking about you, maybe after a long day at work or school, and I would come home to find you waiting for me. We'd share good movies together, fall asleep together, wake up together so many times. My friends loved you and would tell me all about the funny things they saw you do, or the touching stories that you told them. But now, you're gone. As suddenly as you'd entered my life, you left it. I won't soon forget the times we shared, and how you made me feel, but dammit I miss you so bad. Oh T.V., you could never know how much I loved you.

I'm into earthtones, birthstones, and erogenous zones

Once upon a time, I was able to compose my thoughts freely on this site. I was able to pontificate, objectify, patronize, flatter, single out, speak ill of, wish harm, express love, ponder and pander. Recently however, my entry resulted in an unanticipated misunderstanding of catacylsmic proportions. For that I am sorry. Anyone who wants to know what the commotion was about is free to ask me directly, but I'm hesitant to explain in the public sphere right now.

So this new computer thing takes a little getting used to. In fact, I feel like I've entered into a new clique of some sort. Until last week, while I was at Linnea's I was a dog-eared paperback book reader guy, and now I'm a plugged-in, laptop user guy which strikes me as a significant difference. I guess that I'll have to stop the anti-technology diatribes that I tend to unleash when I'm high and oratory. I mean, checking the surf cams while eating a muffin at Linnea's-how could life possibly be any sweeter?

Always on the outside

Oh good. Really great. No, I'm serious, this is fucking terrific. Next time, no wait, there will be no next time. I'm finished having feelings. Can you sell your unused emotions on e-bay? I read somewhere that someone sold their everlasting soul to a buyer on e-bay for something like ten thousand dollars. If anyone is interested in purchasing the balance of my heart and soul, get in touch with me. From now on, I move through life an unfeeling, unthinking automaton. I'm very, very tired of feeling. On the bright side, my blogs are generally much better when I'm despondent anyway.

Under weaknesses I wrote, "eczema"

I must admit that I've paid very little attention to the news in the last several weeks, and until the Sunday L.A. Times, I had almost no knowledge of the New Orleans tragedy. After reading a bit about the carnage and misery I could not decide which was odder-the fact that a major American city had been totally obliterated, or how little an effect on my life such a seemingly important event had. Neal Postman wrote something in "Amusing Ourselves to Death" (thanks Kate) about how the only news that is actually relevant to most people, whether they realize it or not, is the local weather and other close to home events, and apparently this is mostly true. Sorry.
Oh also I just bought an ibook so I will be assuming control of the internet.