If you know me, you know I wear my fraternity letters almost anywhere I go. It’s because I take a certain sense of pride in them. That’s why I also took the position of Public Relations director when it was offered to me. It put me in charge of making sure our name got out there. My big contribution was re-making a website. You can see the fruits of my labor here, as I just (as in an hour or two ago) rolled out version 2.0 of the site. It’s still got some tweaking to do, but other than that, it’s fully usable. Click here to see the new site. If you don’t see a large crest, hit refresh, and try again.
Like I said, some tweaking left to do, but other than that, it’s live. No comments from bofe on how shitty I did things, please. I’m still learning, and claiming ignorance until I can do better.

…I totally skipped over my purchases of the day. I am usually a very astute shopper, and even though the fashions may not be the most au courant, they still looks good on my hefty ass, so I buy them. Now, being that astute shopper, I will often go to the Clearance racks in the various stores, and look through what’s been picked over already. In my travels to 7 different stores yesterday, I made purchases at 4, and spent less than $50 dollars total. For all that, I bought 1 pair of dress pants, 3 pair of everyday pants, a gym shirt (yes, this chubby phase is ending, and soon), and a button up shirt. I kick ass at this shopping thing.
The only beef I have about the whole deal is that people will buy my waist size because it’s still cool to wear pants that can fit three people in them. That means even when I want to go find something, no matter where I am or what rack it is on, the waist size of 40 is nowhere to be found. I wish for that to change. I think the best way to do that is to lose the waist. Here goes another fitness plan. I think I’m going to do it like Kanye prescribes. I’m gonna get my shit right for the summer. This summer, the renovation is going to take place.

There’s blood covering a certain number of fenceposts that I came in contact with today. Most of you all are now thinking that I will be rabid with tetanus, and nothing could be farther than the truth. It’s old hat for rusty metal to be in contact with open wounds, not just for me, but for the whole family. That’s what we get with working with our hands all of our lives.
I helped Dad (a.k.a Santa Claus) tear out two fences today, one required the removal of lots of metal posts. In winding up the wire that made the fence, a sharp end and my finger decided to get into a fight.
The wire won.
It’s only a small cut, the shape of a J, about a half of an inch long, right in the print of my middle finger. Now I can flip everyone off when showing them the newest scar that covers my hand.
It felt good to get out and do something with my hands, out in the bright sunshine of a brisk spring day. It’s something I’m not accustomed to, but it seems oddly enjoyable to get out there and do it every once in a while.
Don’t worry, this farm life is not for me.
While out there, exerting the energy required to pull the posts out, get the wire together, make sure not to kill myself, it gives a person alot of time to think. I feel like I’ve wronged lots of people. I’ve taken advantage of situations that I’ve been handed. I’ve done some shady stuff. I’ve led some people on. I’ve been wrong, and been adamant that I’ve been right.
This makes me a bad person.
In my defense, it was done to me first. I’ve had lots of shady shit pulled on me. Anyone that knows the last two years of my life knows Brandi, and the shit that was pulled there. I was led into love, when it really was a love of what I could provide. Since then, things have been really unstable. Still are. The shit with A.S. was a capstone on it all, I hope. I am just tired of floating from one lust to another, and being done wrong by every woman I try to get close to. I haven’t told people full truths. Not doing it right now, actually. Having to lie to one person because I don’t deal with people that don’t talk to me when I talk to them any more, and I was tired of silence, even though silence was what our first conversation was based on.
Talking in circles.
I want to take this time to apologize to those I have taken advantage of, those I have lusted over, those that I haven’t treated how I should. Very close friends of mine have been hurt by my words and actions. I feel like I should be on Trial for some of the shit I have pulled. And I want those of you who know I have wronged you to hold me accountable.
Basically, I’m becoming your bitch.
And now, I feel that my blood is on alot more fenceposts. It’s also covering some foundations that I made fall apart, swinging my ego around wildly, knocking into them as I went crazy. I realize that there are only two options, we can either rebuild what we have, or Tear Down the Wall. I leave that option to you.
I want to take this time out to apologize and thank one of you, one who held me when I cried, cuddled me as I sulked, and then who I let down. To you, I apologize more than you can ever know. You’ve always been there for me, and I broke some of the basis of our friendship. It’s been hard talking to you lately, and hopefully saying this may mend our cracks.
I want to say thanks to many of you that have been with me on this downward spiral, and I want to say that I think I’ve finally broke this funk.
The new Deezil is now being built.
“We can rebuild him. We have the technology. Better than he was before. Better . . . stronger . . . faster.”
You can Hate Me Now, but soon, take another look.
“Things are gonna change, I can feel it” No more being a Loser.
It’s been probably three pages, several minutes of pounding the keyboard, and dozens of song references. Thanks for sticking with me and my Winamp playlist. I love you all, even those I hate.
<3.
This entry brought to you by the numbers threeve and schfifity-five, and the letter Psi.

Yeah, I’ve got one of those MySpace profile thingys. Add me so I don’t look like such a loser.
My MySpace Profile
I’m selling out to mainstream internet more and more. It’s horrible.

There are two things in life that we all must find our own explanations for. The first is the answer to those questions that do nothing but perplex minds of people out there. Why do hot dogs come in packages of 10, and buns come in packages of 8? Why do we park in a driveway, and drive in a parkway? Why do “going up there” and “going down there” have the same connotation? It’s all about perspective. That’s the second thing that we have to find. It’s all about how we view what we are viewing. That block of pavement you see under your feet is the same lawn full of grass that I see when I step outside my house here in Gravel Switch. It’s what covers our ground. It’s what we walk on. So between us, even though we don’t walk on the same physical surface, we walk on what we know, and that becomes the same thing we walk on everywhere.
Yes, my entry is filled with the same bad metaphors, you are not alone.
I equate it all to a pinball game. Whatever mystical being you believe or don’t believe in is out there, holding the plunger, flipping the paddles. It’s just a gigantic multi-ball, several billions of balls whizzing around hitting targets, scoring points, shooting up ramps, pounding against the bumpers, and falling down through the outlanes on their way out. We are all just single solitary balls inside of that game. Sure, we don’t mean shit, because if we fall down, another ball just gets launched to replace us. It’s all about us being there together, working towards that mystical high score, that makes anything have meaning. So we, as the collective of those pinballs, we make a difference.
God (or the lack thereof) just got a free game.
Yet again, horrible.
Times when it is hardest to blog are the times when you need to blog the most. Something that I have been guilty of before in my life. Here recently most of all. I could go on for pages about how I felt when Alisa ripped my heart out and jumped on it. But I didn’t. I could regail all of the internets with stories of failed love, festering lust, and a general dissatisfaction with myself. But, even though that’s what it looks like is status quo around here, I haven’t. I’ve wanted to blog all these things. But, I couldn’t. Why? Because I just can’t bring myself to blog.
So, why can’t blogs happen?
Yet again, we come across a “Why?” question. Like with all the questions earlier, it’s just a matter or perspective. We can blog. It may not be about the things that we need to get out there the most, but in some little way, these things that won’t come out, in fact, do. Just like this entry.
Everything else will come to you in time. It just takes a little bit of seeing what others see. So when you look down, envision grass. I’ll look at your pavement for you.
<3.

It’s that time of the year again. That carefree week so strategically placed in the middle of our spring semester of courses. Spring Break. This week will be like all the other ones I have ever experienced. I’m just going to sit in the house all week and get more fat and more lazy than I already am. It’s Spring BReak tradition. I must. I feel, however, that I could be doing so much more with this week. I could be going places. I could be seeing people. I could be working on things I know I have due when I get back to the real world. But will I? No. It’s just to easy to take this week and actually do something productive with it. I must waste it all.
This wasting thing will not happen this time though. I have projects of a personal nature that I must work on. One day, I know I have to finish DairyBase, my program to help the family business keep track of customers and the parts they have. Basically, it’s a huge database of part and serial numbers, because QuickBooks doesn’t allow for entry like that. The second project is to get DataMonkey, my database for the office I work in, to a final production state. Really, these projects aren’t all that dissimilar. It’s all about hoarding data. Something had to be designed, so these two projects are the brainchildren. The third thing I need to do is get some sun. Being pasty white is getting on my nerves. Even to regain the farmer’s tan I had not too long ago would be good. Sorry for the lack of (good) updates. It’s been stressful times, rocky roads being travelled upon, but it looks like the gravel is thinning, and pavement is on the near horizon.

I just woke up from my drunken stupor long enough to post this, then I am going back to bed. Last night, I knew something wasn’t right when she didn’t call me or answer any of my calls the whole day (It was only three calls, don’t worry, I didn’t do the stalker thing). I messaged Laura, telling her that I knew something was up. And, oh boy, was I right. She was there, but she didn’t say a word to me. At all. Even when I just said “Hi” in passing. Asked one of my brothers if he knew what was going on, and we talked about it for a while. Women are shady. And that’s why we (myself and her) won’t talk any more. Talk about a fucking heartbreaker. So, I drank. Quite a bit. So right now, I’m eating food that I left on my counter 5 hours ago, and posting about my heartache. Just when I thought things had changed around here, I find out things have just stayed the same.

Thanks to Mary-Kathleen, I now have pictures of my eyeball. I think things can only get worse from here.

Yeah, it hurts as bad as it looks. Shit it hurts.

I went and did something stupid. Like, really stupid. I always have my phone alarm set to wake me up. The alarm comes on this morning, and I get up, and go to crawl out of the bed, over the footboard, like usual. I propped myself up with my arm, and I guess I slept on it wrong, because it just crumpled under me. In falling down, my upper cheekbone comes in contact with the railing on the bed. I don’t have a camera, or access to one right now, but I do have a nice black eye that I can show to everyone around here as proof of my stupidity. Don’t worry, I’ll get a pic up here too, just so you all can laugh. But, right now, the eye hurts, tremendously. I can’t wink, it doesn’t open or shut all the way, and it just sucks.
I know what you’re thinking: “OUCH!”

For the first time ever, I’m spamming a link. For modesty, I’m not putting it out here in the entry, because that is just tacky and rude. It’s on the page, in a new heading on the sidebar. For SurfJunky, all you have to do is leave a webpage open when you aren’t going to be at the computer. That simple. It flashes some ads, you make a little cash, and everyone is happy. There’s nothing to install, none of the pages trigger spyware, and there aren’t any popups if you have Google toolbar installed in IE. The only downside is that you have to run it in IE, or you have to go to some trouble to get it to work in FireFox. I’m going to keep a running tally of how much it makes me, and how much it makes anyone that refers off of me under it in the sidebar. Happy Surfing.

So, after our weekly fraternity meeting, I went out to get something to eat at our local fast-mexican-food eatery. As per usual, I get my Nachos Bel Grande, order for my friend whom I took to eat with me, and pull around to the window to receive of my gut-rotting goodness. After I deposit my money to the worker, she comes back to the window, saying, “We are all out of ground beef. Would you like to have chicken or steak on your nachos?”. I sit there. Flabbergasted. The one staple of this fine eatery is not to be had. The meat that crumbles in your mouth, dripping with salt and grease and fat is not to be topping my nachos. And in that, I was extremely disappointed. So, in the three seconds that it takes for all this to sink in, I agree to settle for chicken, and after she closes the window to fix my meal, I look at the person riding with me. She just looks back at me, and echoes my sentiments of not having beef to have topping my meal. I vowed then and there that if there was ever another Taco Bell that didn’t have beef to top my meal, I was going straight to Kroger, buying gallon jugs of water and energy bars, and would promptly start digging my hole to hide in when the end of the world would be upon us. Which we would not have to wait long to see.

I’ll be back with you fine people tomorrow night. Off to see the family and whatnot. Take care, and leave me messages.

Not only am I back on MSURacers.com, I’m back on OffTopic as well. Whatever ban was on my IP address was lifted.

I’m just a little unwell. How’s that. I busted out some 1998 all over yo ass. Well, 2000, right now I don’t fucking care.
I’m going insane. It’s not the generic brand of crazy that you see every day littering the pathways that you take to class. It’s a special kind of mentally disturbed reserved for the best. And tonight, I have seen it. I have faced the hole that you fall into when you get to the point of no turning back. I stuck my head in, and said fuck this shit. And promptly pulled my white ass back out. It’s a fucking rabbit hole, just like the one in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (which 7 years of Academic Team taught me that was the correct name for the book), one that could never be escaped. You fell and you fell for what seemed like ages. And then you landed. Landing is never fun. Especially when you fall that hard and that fast and that sudden. It sucks. Tonight, even though I pulled my ass back to reality before falling in that hole, I still feel like I landed. My ass is red and raw from the whipping that life has given it. Just tonight. I’ve seen shit tonight that I care to never see again. It disturbed me almost to the point of tears. It would be the second time tonight I would have cried. But, for some reason, I can’t feel the tears coming. Why? I expected to see what I saw sometime. It’s just that tonight, with everything else that has happened, it was too much. But why wasn’t I crying? Because I’ve shed too many tears over her before. I’ve cried countless nights to sleep over the past 3 1/2 years before because of something dealing with her. I just can’t cry any more. It doesn’t accomplish a fucking thing. And I can’t change what I saw. It will be forever engrained in my mind. I want to help her. Get her away from her rabbit hole. But, I’m afraid, she’s already fallen in too far, already passed where my arm can reach. And I want to jump in to save her. But I can’t do that any longer. My arm is already stretched out as far as it will go. But. I. want. to.
Please, stay away from rabbit holes.

I’m back. You all wanted it, there’s money riding on it, so go ahead and pay up suckers, because I’m back with a vengance. And this time, I’m aiming for heads. It’s a no-holds-barred, ladders and tables in a cage match, first blood wins all. And I’m drawing my blood tonight. Why? You’ll see. But it’s all because of one person, and the shit they gave me tonight, which I didn’t apreciate one bit.

This entry is being brought to you by maybe-not.net. Yup. I, Laura, have yet again invaded Deezil’s website. And this time I have a little more to say.
I’ll try to keep this family friendly, Deez, because I know you’re a gentleman.
Nothing annoys me more than a person who can’t communicate well. I pride myself on being a good communicator. I find that most of my weblogs are mildly cohesive. I use good grammar when typing on AIM. I articulate well when arguing with someone. Deezil communicates well, as…well. But he does it with a much cuter accent.
I think it’s a location thing.
However, it seems that some people’s communication development have been stunted at about age 12. This is very unfortunate (both for them and the persons they try communicating with on a daily basis). So I thought I would help Deezil’s readers out a bit by compiling a list of tips on communicating. With this lengthy introduction I bring you:

Laura’s List of Communicating Tips
Yes, this is a guest post, Einstein
Yes, I just looked up how to spell “einstein”
-Sarcasm doesn’t come across well over the internet. Unfortunately. If you’ve ever “spoken” with me digitally (or read my blog) you know that sarcasm drips off of most things I type. That’s how I speak in real life. Trouble is, conveying the subsequent coy eye roll or smirk is hard over the internet, thus leading your reader to believe you actually think Einstein may be reading or that people from Kentucky are really smart (trust me, the latter is not the case). So use internet sarcasm wisely. A “jk” usually does the trick when you type something especially elusive.
-Using big words doesn’t make you smart,rectitudinously enough. This happens a lot in real life. But you can usually spot fakers, because they pronouce sovereignty “sov-er-eg-nity.” However, the internet is a perfect breeding ground for pseudo-intellectuals, as onelook.com is just a click away, making intelligence as easy as “Control C, Control V.” How do you think I just wrote this paragraph? So beware of people who try to make you feel stupid by using big words. Just address them as Merriam Webster and move on.
-Owning and operating a web forum doesn’t make you cool. Unless you’re Ryan Perry, and then just existing makes you cool. Everyone else, you’re pathetic.
-Resolving problems over AIM is being passive agressive. Ok boys and girls, it’s time to enter a new stage of your life. It’s going to be fun and exciting, full of chest hair and periods. Oh wait, everyone reading this should be past puberty already. Ok all you post-pubescent pups (alliteration is awesome), it’s time to resolve conflicts like an adult, and start letting your mouth do the talking and not your fingers. Using AIM to confront someone is such a cop out. Everyone knows that if you were really confident in your argument and your intelligence, you would speak with that person directly. Hiding behind your screen name is like using training wheels. And when your disable the “Show users when you are typing” feature, you’ve officially become a diaper-wearing retard.
-Can someone else join me in using correct grammar on AIM? Please? Or at least capitalization? Or just stop using “ur”? It’s really beginning to bug me.
-Cussing profusely doesn’t help get your point across, motherfucker. Actually, I would argue that it hinders that goal. If you have something worthwhile to say, there’s no need to sprinkle the F-word carefully among your sentences. The force of the point your making will be enough to sway your listener. People usually swear when they get flustered and can’t think of anything to say. So my advice, don’t cuss unless provoked. When used sparingly, cuss words can be really powerful. If you’re someone who rarely swears when making an argument, your listener will know you’re really pissed when you drop the F-bomb, thus giving the cuss word more weight and helping you.
-Think before you speak/type. There are times when speaking off the cuff is important, but I’d say for the most part, thinking before communicating is basically necessary. And there is absolutely no excuse with coming out with a bunch of bullshit over the internet. Spellcheck, the ability to proof read, and the slowness of your fingers compared to your mouth are all qualities of internet communication that are your friends. So use them.
I hope I helped.
<3