i declare war on this orange

for some reason i am finding it very difficult to peel this orange right now, i wish i knew its intentions in this world, so i could dash them. If it wants to be eaten, i would throw it away, and if its attempting to avoid being eaten, its not doing a good job sitting on a sale rack in the center of metro market... a dumb hiding place no doubt. i expect more from something smart enough to not rhyme with any other word in the american language.

in other news i am currently eating my way around the sandwich i brought eventually to leave just the 4 center bites that have the most meat and the most cheese. They will be enjoyed.

in news comepletly unrelated to food; today my concearns about the amount of time i waste at work organizing things on my desk into pretty piles and lining them up along my cubicle wall to make it look like i am really busy were eased when i walked by someones computer who had arranged their desktop icons into the shape of a bucyrus shovel. We arent talking like "see, those three stars in a row are his belt, and then the remaining 9 stars make up for his face, arms, legs, throwback kilt with a tear in it, spear, shield, pet ox, angered facial expression, and his defined abdomen" we are talking a 2-year-old that has never even seen a digger before would look at it and say "shovel."

i bring up a good point (theres noone else here that can do that, so pardon my self centered-ness) in that star formations are pure BS-sauce. as far as im concearned you could basically connect the dots to make just about anything, but the best they came up with is mythical creatures, not like a treasure map to nowhere or like "sam was here" or anything... we got a belt, belts are straight lines, congratulations.

I vote that if Favre comes back, everyone gets 20 bucks, an ice cream, and a 20 minute sit in the sauna alone so you can be comfortable about the nudity thing. Why? because thats about what i need if your going to toy with my heart like this every year for the next 67 years until your arms and legs are all litterally gone and sold on ebay. Like the black knight in monty python. The sad thing is that even brett favre's torso can get more accomplished than any of us can, combined. i guess thats what happens when you are built with 100% awesome.

goober of the day award (pronounced geu-bhurr) goes to the dude who was flushed on not once, twice, but 6 times while in the stall next to me by the automatic flusher. You litterally have to try and duck out of the way for the thing to flush even once, i cant imagine what he was doing because by the looks of his ankles, he wasnt going anywhere. It was relentless humor for me, i stuck around just to see if he could get the record, throwing my hands in the air with excitement for flushes 4, 5, and especially 6 because he got past 5, which is on to a whole new hand needed to keep count. I high fived the toilet paper and tried to contain my yells, as i didnt want to disturb him or jinx him on his way to glory. goober.

and for the most prestigous award of the day, the Martin Grammatica Award (Martin Grammatica, former NFL placekicker made famous more for the career ending injury suffered during a celebration over 1 point in an inconsequential game that was won by 19 than the fact that he was a professional athlete) of Excellence goes to Peter Francis Geraci. Theres enough worthless in that combination to make dirt look like diamonds.

talk to you later
jim "that was an awful methphor, sweet jesus" stemper

High school is hilarious

i was that kid in the freshman retreat video that was to shy for the camera so they kept it on me for about 6 minutes seeing all the wierd things i would do to avoid the camera, ultimatly embarassing myself far more than if i would have just looked at it and smiled with a wave of confidence.

although i have tons of stories of spilling nachos at lunch, getting my head taped, jumping off the bleachers on to the crash mats, and attempting to murder a nalgene bottle for 20 minutes in the wrestling locker room, my siblings who are currently attending high school, which is just an awkward mess of emotions all bundled up into one seriously lame attempt at dating the prom queen, had some awesome stories for me this weekend.

1. Abby from DSHA. So, apparently their somewhat "enforcer" is a nun or sister or some type of kind lay person who also carries a can of whoop-ass around if needed (no can-opener, she just wills it open), comes on the announcements one day with the following, semi-accurate quotation that i surely embelished on for your entertainment: "everyone, its extreemly important that you all listen very carefully to the following message, if you are in the locker rooms, come out into the gym so you can hear this very important message." and this is pretty abnormal so abby is sitting there basically ready to hear something about planes crashing or the universe ending, and she gets this: "Someone has left a sandwich in the office this morning. it is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on white bread, it is cut in half down the middle. if someone is missing their sandwich please come to the office immediatly to claim it." end message.

how awesome is that? had that been at MUHS there would have been a line of like 460 dudes outside the office putting on the best show they could think of to get the sandwich, crying and screaming in a high-pitched voice "my sandwich! my mom made it for me! ohhhhh nooooo *sniffs and snivles* the poor thing out in the world on its own without its paper bag! its inhumane! ohhhhhh sandwich! ohhhhh sandwich.."

"cut down the middle...." ...thats the best part

2. bobby from MUHS. Mr Taylor litterally carries 300 keys that he jingles and subsequently controls the entire school with, as well as a big wooden bat. now, bobby is sitting in the library, a location that is important because in the library people are already really quiet, and mr taylor runs in, bat in hand "EVERYONE SHUT UP! (everyone kinda looks at eachother in the already silent room, thinking it may be a trick) DOES ANYONE KNOW WHERE *insert name i cant remember* IS??" some brave, and pretty much suicidal, kid says "i think hes in the AP art room" taylor: "NOPE, ALREADY BURNT THAT PLACE DOWN, ILL KILL HIM" and walks out.

the kid apparently started a fire in the ap art room on accident and just ran out without telling anyone. idiot. mr taylor subsequently pounded his head into his shoe and hung him up on fire for everyone to see.


so those are my 2 stories from the weekend. killer.

have a nice week, and remember, high school wasnt as sweet as we all remember it to be, it was sweeter. especially when "Mr. Smith's Sofa Kingdom" was the best lunch-time soccer name until mr. herman said it over the loud speaker, followed immediatly by a list of the names on that team as well as 3 saturday jugs each. totally worth it.

Life is full of changes. We (everyone besides the engineers and PT'rs and Donny) are about to embark on unbelievable journeys beyond college, where we either commit ourselves to a sweet 40 hours a week, of which 10 more will be spent in commute/getting ready/getting undressed (bet you didnt think of that). We will most likely feel the need at some point and throw down a wedding for awkward greetings and boozing beyond belief (YOU LOVE IT)... then the honeymoon.... then you pretty much run out of ideas and have some kids. One or more of which, if you are a male, will be a girl/girls (if you think about it, that means everyones having a girl... this is why murphy and his laws are worthless and made up by grumpy people.) Once you have this girl, you will be greeted with this hatred for boys her, and more than her, age because, lets face it, you were a horny douschbag once too and it worked on some girls, resulting in "play." Play. Not throwing legos at your brother, not jumping off the swings, not imagining you are a famous singer and having a concert for beanie babies.... Play, with a dude that drove off with your daughter with the following liscence plate:

man, that guys hilarious.... what a d-bag. if that showed up to my house i would pick up a tree and place it on his. Then i would look him in the eyes and say "once, a barber cut my sideburns when i asked him not too, and i punched his face off and i keep it in a jar on my bedstand. I am asking you to stay away from my daughter, capeish?"

john mayer better remember he has to be nice to my daughter as well. Otherwise i will be putting his face in a jar.