4/17/02
Despite the fact that it is late, i have to tell the dream i had last night. It had the single most bizarre object that i have ever dreamt about. Magnetized cookies used to treat herpes. These things were fully cookies, but they were also magnetic, so they stuck to one another and repelled one another etc. So what could this possibly be related to you ask.
Well, there was this prostitute right. And i think she was trying to reform her ways, so she was staying with me for some reason. I think my brother was involved somehow. Anyway, i sort of knew she was a prostitute, but she was ashamed of it and didn’t want me to know. For some reason i decided i was going to go through her bag (not a good thing to do) and i found these cookies needed to treat herpes. She saw me looking in the bag and knew that i’d find out about her, so she was all mortified and she ran away. And i chase her and eventually drove a truck up some stairs.
Then i made believe i was a rabbi for a second or two. The End.
E1st
5/28/02
Today featured a discussion on word usage. I think there are certain words, actually 90% of words, that can only be used rarely. For instance, a word like “flamboyant” can only be used perhaps 50 times in one’s entire life. I mean in conversation or print, that previous usage didn’t count. So Stephen, Rich and I used it about 50 times in a 15 minute span, so now i never have to say it again. There are many words like that. I started flipping through the dictionary, and noticed that most words can only be used a handful of times in an entire lifetime. “Flim-flam” and “crummy” are two such words.
E1st
7/2/02
My arteries are slowly constricting, so i’ll try to make this quick. I ate hamburger helper tonight, of the bacon cheeseburger variety. About three minutes after its completion, a half pound chunk of grease and “cheese” became lodged in my aorta.
In another bizarre twist, Andy, who i feel like i should call john for some reason (john arbuckle perhaps?) has become obsessed with me and is now telling his family of all people about my website. Not too many families frequent my humble cyberspace abode, but this one at least deserves mention. Apparently John’s mother writes speeches for the Tacoma, WA mayor. Here’s a sample of her early work: Mayor speaking:
“People of the great city of Tacoma. Today is truely a sad day in the history of this, the finest city in the great state of Washington. One of our most cherished landmarks, the Tacoma-Narrows Bridge, mysteriously began to gyrate early this morning, before finally surrendering its illustrious life to the Tacoma River in an uproarious crash. Despite the efforts of a US Geological Survey Task Force in conjunction with the Tacoma Police Department we have, as of yet, no explanation for the destruction of our beloved landmarks. We have not ruled out communist subversion, but there is currently no cause for alarm. We have posted armed guards from the Washington State Militia at the Tacoma-Puget Bridge, the Washington-Narrows Bridge and the Tacoma-Big-and-Wide Bridge.
“Thus far, there are no reports of human casulties, but a scottie dog plummeted to his furry little death. We mourn for his loss. I will brief the community when more information is available. Try not to over-exert yourselves in this time of mourning; it is times like these that will show the world the true strength of this fine city.” You may remember that speech from countless newscasts.
E1st
7/20/02
All sorts of things happened today, and though i’ve forgotten most of the high comedy, i do remember some. First and foremost, we went to the grand canyon, and it truely is grand. It’s bigger when you’re actually in it. So the first item of business was that i went on my run there, and i realized about halfway through that i was doing my reckless Flagstaff trail running on these little narrow rocky trails. The only thing is that about 3 feet to my right there’s a 700 foot drop-off. So i’m an idiot, but it was worthwhile anyway.
So a couple other things. First off, Trent was passed 16 times on the way to and from the Grand Canyon. SIXTEEN friggin’ times. I’ve been passed about 5 times in my life, and 3 of them were when i had my permit. This is 16 times in like 3 hours worth of driving. Ridiculous. If the people in the other cars knew the truth about his driving skills, not only would more pass him, but they’d do so even if it meant passing 3 wide and driving through the woods.
In other news, there are these mules that carry people up and down the 4500 foot climb up the edge of the canyon. What a miserable existance. Not only are they sterile, but they are also carrying tourists up a damn mountain. Which leads to the question, “Do sterile mules still have sex with other mules (females presumably)?” I wonder.
Also, Trent decided that since he thought hitler was short, and hitler was, by his estimation the same height as other germans, all germans must be short. I pointed out that i was german, and not short, and this other guy whose last name is Heinreich for crying out tears wasn’t short either. So, naturually, it came up that mexican’s always have children with black hair. Needless to say, this principle is reversible.
For what that’s worth.
E1st
7/20/02
It was a busy day today, with many planned activities. However, the unplanned, and in fact quite random, event dominated the day’s personality.
First off, i got my belated birthday present, a damn fine suit for job intervals. I must admit i look dead sexy in it. After throwing together both a smoothie and bean concoction (separate of course) for lunch, i began phase two of the day: running to my grandmother’s house. It is about 15 miles away using the back roads, and it was a nice scenic run. While i felt good, there still wasn’t anything special about my condition i think. Anyway, when we got to my grandmother’s we went to grandpa’s grave to commemorate the year anniversery and then got a pizza. However, for about an hour and a half before and after those events, one of the more bizarre events occupied our time.
There was this kite about 30 feet up in Grandma’s maple tree. Incidentally, completely unrelated, she got a little dog about 3 weeks ago despite everyone saying she shouldn’t. Then literally 4 days after that, she brought the dog to NJ and lost it. It’s gone. Funny story. Anyway, we start throwing stuff at this kite. Eventually Stephen uproots a 22 foot talk branch. I say 22 because 22 plus 7 is 29, and the kite was 30 feet up. So naturally, we had to duct tape (world’s greatest substance) a curtain rod to the end of the tree/stick. After a half an hour we got frustrated and started poking a huge underground yellow jacket’s nest instead. After finding some raid we sprayed the crap out of it. I then stuck a 3 foot long branch in and rattled it around some as steve buffeted the opening with raid. They were scrabbling out of the hole like iraqi’s from a radar station, but the result was, in the end, similar.
Then next step was to throw the roll of duct tape at the kite. After climbing the first level of the tree(the kite itself was inaccessible), i missed a few times from an arial venue. Anyway, we eventually decided that it would be better to tie twine around the duct tape, loft it into the tree, and then start pulling on it. My father was, by now, fully immersed in our ridiculousness also. I think the “throwing projectile at target” thing got him interested. After a few more minutes of this it was time to eat.
When we got finished, my father had broken into the supply of all curtain rods. At this point, we knew it would be a production. In fact, i had dreamt last night that going to grandma’s would become a production, i kid you not. Anyway, the next step was to throw this straight projectile into the tree at the kite. After doing this like 10 times and getting it stuck in the tree at least 6 of those, we realized this was fruitless. We even spent 10 minutes trying to get the rod unstuck using the 22 foot tree/stick at one point. Finally, we started duct taping the extra curtain rods together, so that we could get a longer poking utensil. After using a quarter roll of duct tape, and tacitly sacrificing the curtain rods to the cause, we were able to poke the kite with increased force.
Meanwhile (i run out of transition words quickly), after failing at our attempts from the bench and the top if the table, we got the ladder. I also killed the bees some more; it was yet again worthwhile. Anyway, after climbing onto the freaking roof my brother and father had a much better view of the damn kite. We had a hooked rod (intentionally bent with no regard to the safety of the rod) at the end of the contraption, and eventually steve was able to latch onto the kite and start yanking. At this point, we realized that it was VERY stuck in there, and the only way to get it down was to break the string. So everything we had done up to this point was useless. As stephen prodded with his metal stick perilessly close to powerlines, eventually a good hold was acquired and down came the kite to our jublilation.
At this point my grandmother admitted that she had lied when she said the kite belonged to a little kid up the street, and insisted that little stephen (17 in a few days) play with it instead. After pointing out that it, like half of the curtain rods, was broken due to the massive shock of the metal contraption, we instead convinced her to let us nail it to the hallway to the basement, thus memorializing the day properly.
And that’s the reason why there’s a kite nailed to my grandmother’s wall.
Afterwards we played monopoly. I can’t buy a friggin break in that game.
E1st
8/29/02
Mccarthey posed an intriguing question today at dinner; a question which, at the very least, deserves a moment or two of my time. “How many Aaron Hanlon’s can one fit in a regular family sedan?”
After a few seconds of thought, i arrived thusly: 22. Here’s how it works. Starting from the front, you lay one hanlon on the dashboard and crumple two into the place where your legs go. You then must stack (i’m assuming no stick here) four hanlons on their stomachs and also 3 hanlons on their sides. This is due to the fact that there would not be enough space to lay hanlons side by side in the front seat, especially if it is put into a forward position. Though i did not factor it in previously, one hanlon can lie on top of the seats. Before i move on to the back seat, i would like to state that in AP english i was the only one who correctly used “lay” and “lie” (and their various forms) correctly in this one quiz we had. I’ve apparently lost that understanding, i have no idea which i should be using. Since hanlons are now cargo, i think that lay can work. Who knows.
So in the back seat, we start from the floor and stack 5 hanlons flat on their stomachs starting at the place where one’s feet go. Then again in the back seat put 4 hanlons on their stomachs and 3 on their sides. Finally, one can go behind the back seat. This apparently adds to 24. I don’t know where one of those extra ones came from. However, i forgot that the trunk may also be used. This might be difficult, since hanlon is comparatively rigid. So I’m thinking we can put 4 hanlons on their sides spooning each other and perhaps lay 2 flat on their stomachs up top. This brings us to 30 hanlons, or roughly 3000 lbs. Realistically, 4000 would probably be very accurate. If one of these hanlons could drive, he wouldn’t be able to because my car cannot pull the weight of 30 hanlons.
Over the last two days, the emphasis of my website has shifted to a much more practical aspect of our daily existances. Instead of wading through some silly philosophical gobbly-guck, these treatise on how to take 4 or even 5 showers in a day and how to fit 30 hanlons in a car are my pragmatic contribution to humanity. This will be my legacy, I’ve realized that i’d rather change lives through providing real life solutions than to add to the already vast repository of useless ponderings.
You’re welcome in advance.
E1st
9/16/02
After realizing that i had not had an interesting thought for 2 straight days as i blankly stared at my moron bio professor, i decided it was time for a change. The first thing i noticed in my heightened state of consciousness was that the previously mentioned prof thinks she’s in a deoderant television commercial. She is essentially a charicature of herself. Let me explain.
Every face she makes is too well defined and too over-emotional. There is no smirk, no look of half astonishment or subtle trace of comprehension. Everything is over-blown and entirely too detailed. Instead of gesturing towards something, she flails are arms in the direction of the item and makes huge sweeping motions. If you were on a commercial, and you had 5 seconds to show that you were a dynamic person, you might make these movements and faces. However, after 40 minutes of watching you gesticulate wildly with grotesque facial distortions, people start looking for things to throw.
Speaking of biology, katie told me that people can’t get pregnant again while they’re breast feeding, which is essentially the limiting factor in how closely separated babies can be. So i think that might be a new form of birth control. Don’t ask me where that thought came from, and if it makes no sense don’t try to understand it.
Finally, has anyone noticed that 1/3 of the girls at bucknell have something written on the asses of their shorts? “Buck nell”, “Per fect”, and “Kick It” can be read from the buttoxes (?) of girls in every corner of campus. This one freshman on the team (the most attractive incidentally) has graced her behind with “Defense”, as though implying that the fabric was the only line of defense for whatever lies beneath. In general that’s not something you brag about, but i guess some people advertise it. In any case, as a decent sized subset of the guys teams passed her on a run today, I got the “Defense…clap clap” chant going. Eventually she understood and feigned embarrassment.
It was, however, a victory for her. That’s why they put that on their butts, for attention. Its like the hot girl yawning in class to see who else yawns so she knows who’s watching her. Only now it’s “who’s staring at my ass?” Hanlon had a good suggestion for guy’s ass-writing shorts: “One Way”
E1st
Words 
Leave a Reply