Whoops!

I have not updated this mother in over two years! Honestly I was planning to a few months ago but then I realized, hey, it's only a week until the second anniversary, why not hold off? And then I remembered that because CMU is a jerk school it would be another month until I had the chance. Anyway, this journal shall now be updated from time to time so that while I stalk a few artists on this website I don't feel like a total creeper. No, a minor creeper is fine by me. So here is what I like:

8-bit Mega Man 7 remake: [link] (download from "ver.final 2" at the top of the screen)
It's what I've been spending my freetime doing lately. Editing the graphics in MSPaint (which you may have noticed is all I've ever learned to use) is an additional hobby I adopted this morning; at the moment Megaman is a black-and-white fellow who swears whenever he teleports. But more importantly, the game is a lot more fun than it is on the SNES (well, okay, scientifically I can only be sure it's better than the PS2 rerelease - for all my ranting about the SNES's superiority I never had MM7 on it)

Nippon Ichi video games. Been playing Soul Nomad when I have a free afternoon (I'm on hour twenty, playing since August), and it's tremendous fun micromanaging your army. I'm a little disappointed by the absence of Zetta cameos, but I guess I'm biased since Makai Kingdom was the first one I played.

The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman. I've had this book for about half a year now, at least, and it's a totally hellish slog, and yet the most transcendentally hilariously awesomely ridiculous novels I've ever read. On the other hand, up until finding this book I was illiterate, so take that with a grain of salt.

Barack Obama's candidacy.

Girls. Seriously, they're the cutest, huh? I'm not so good at getting them to reciprocate though, which is unfortunate because without girls, whose blood will I use to summon the dark lord Korrok?

Now that I mention Korrok, here's old news for things I like: John Dies at the End. The book itself is offline for good now (lucky I got both print editions), but it looks like they're finally putting new stuff up, like the current article on how a photograph of Captain Kirk holding a dick proves that God does not have eyelids, by corollary. It's pretty cool. johndiesattheend.com

Fiddling. My blue violin is sexy. I don't know how to italicize things in this applet, so just pretend I italicized the word "sexy."

Dicks.

Eighties diva pop. Goonies R Good Enough and I'm a Material Girl. I'm working on covers, don't laugh at me.

I've been slowly joining the Pittsburgh indie music scene and fighting crime as El Libro Fuerte, muscletacular and dashingly handsome luchador (myspace.com/ellibrofuerte). Recording is hard though so there's nothing online yet. If you want good music online check out Mustache Required, at myspace.com/mustacherequired of course.

Incidentally, if you think I'm stupid for writing all this even though no one will ever read it... think about what you've just done. Also you're not the boss of me; don't tell me what to do.

Apparently Chris's funeral service had a floral arrangement made to look like a bus-sized bus, which is super-awesome. At least they knew how how to send him off properly.

[link]

He existed.

He was fantastic.

I want to be a tautologist.

So, last Saturday, went to see Snakes on a Plane. Just about the only theater that shows good movies (unlike the Penn Hills cinema) and is not ridiculously far away (I'm looking at the Waterfront) was the theater at the Mills, which is this really big mall that is cool. Actually, I'd never been there before, but Heather Logan (awesome) said she could get there super-easy, so that was the decision. Nice place.

Anyway, Lederhosen and I had agreed to meet there at 7 but I got there early and just kinda stood in front of the whole place feeling very lonely. On the bright side, I was wearing my awesome trench with the shoulderpads, so I felt like a ninja turtle. I think my brother still has a Donatello-in-trench-and-fedora action figure in the basement. It's awesome.

After about ten minutes making crass assumptions and hurtful judgments about the other people standing in front of the mall, I kinda wanted to go inside the joint and look at all the inevitably cool stores, but being a dutiful Gnome I continued standing in the boring place in front of Starbucks.

Heather finally arrived wearing an awesome white sweater (as an aside, I think there's something awesome about white sweaters, because Toni had one and looked super-hot in it, and my cousin Christopher had one, and when he wore it I felt less urged to punch him in the face for wearing girl-pants) and went to get a chai tea from Starbucks while Gnome got tickets. Two for Snakes on a Plane. And then Heather walked up when I finally reached the counter and started to hand me money to buy her ticket, because the sthilly goosthe was entertaining notions of equality. I was like, pshht, yeah, males are awesome, so we get to pay for everything. In other news, I cannot afford food this month.

And then I was waiting in line for five minutes or so to buy popcorn, even though we were already late for the movie. Eventually reached it though, and previews were still on, so that was cool. After the film started and I was trying not to seem like I was enchanted with the beach scene, I realized Heather was a vegan, so buttered popcorn was probably a bad thing to have bought. So I whispered, "Hey babe, sorry about that," and she was like, "I'm not a vegan anymore. I just don't like popcorn," which wasn't as bad, but I still felt stupid sitting there eating a big bag-o'-popcorn throughout most of the film, all alone.

So I was the only one to say "had it with these snakes on this plane" line with Samuel L. Jackson, but that wasn't such a blow to my (admittedly oversized) ego as about an hour and a half in when I was like, hey I have an idea and reached over to hug Heather, only since I was still wearing the trench my sitting was holding my arm down and I was like, "Wait, hang on. I'ma get my arm up," so I freed the arm and asked to try again and said no. Oh well. First date was probably too early to try. And yes, I'm retarded for not having known it.

But yeah. Film ended, we sat in front of the mall for half an hour or so talking about junk (Despite how many people hear me plugging it, I believe the only friend I have who's ever started caring about Channel 101 was Youth Minister Eric, and he's probably not the best of people for enjoying it). She said hi to some little kid with Juri-dorable glasses who apparently went to her church. Then she offered to drive me home, but I have some pride in masculinity, thank you very much. Also, less attention drawn to the fact that I can't get a permit because I don't control my diabetes = better. So I walked around the mall, but all the stores inside were closed, which was pretty bumming.

I imagine another great part of the day was when I finally got home, Red Green was on PBS, and they never show him because his late-night timeslot is apparently perfect for fundraising. Anyway, Fred Rogers was a great guy. Doris Milligan, a very nice lady at my church, says that apparently her late husband (who was a bigshot in the Presbytery) helped Mr. Rogers get his officiation. i'll try to remember the story for next time. If I forget, comment. heaven knows I never get comments otherwise.

Anyway. I love me. I'm gorgeous.

Oh! Before I forget, vanilla beans is the best flavor of ice cream. It's like vanilla (duh), with the added affect of being cool, and by cool, I mean totally sweet. Robert Hamburger's book is pretty funny. Also, Sandie Shaw was fantastic.