It isn’t a normal turn of events, but my feet were producing the stanky funk today, and by stanky funk I don’t mean “step off, I’m doin’ the hump: the Humpty Dance is your Chance to do the Hump”, I mean: there was a decidedly non-delicious aroma rising up from the floor in one of those visible clouds shaped like a hand. It slapped me in the face, so Lisa made a simply delightful foot bath for me with essential oils and rose petals. She said something about cypress oils and marigold extract, but all I know is that my tiny fuzzy hobbit feet have turned into perfect girl feet.
Armed with pleasant aromas and a Summit EPA I dropped a bomb on my CSci 4011 homework.
I don’t know what I will do to recover my masculinity. I guess that I will have to think about it while I soak in the tub. Maybe I will have some wine and read a romance novel. Oh me! No, I can’t go soak in the tub, because my hairy man-boobs (pectoral muscles!) might turn into a heaving alabaster bosom - and then I would have no reason to ever leave the house again. Oh bosom!
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If you’re wondering, I am still waiting to hear about my appeal to my financial aid suspension because of my unsatisfactory academic progress. In the fall semester I was on the magical Dean’s list, and last semester I pulled a 3.33333 (repeating) out of some orifice, which wasn’t enough to get my name on the bulletin board of the CLA advising offices, but was satisfactory under my standards. I got notice on June 6th and it is now very nearly July. I had better hear soon, or I will be joining the army come fall — maybe the marines. Cast your vote for which organization will best transform me from a mere evil robot into an unstoppable killing machine. By “cast your vote” I mean “tell me to just get a job at Chick-Fil-A.” In my non-shaving days I had a moustache (and beard) but I have not yet had a mullet. Yes, this is all just a Ben Folds reference. Sigh.
Oh yeah, there is the strong possibility that I will not only get an A in Digital Photography (already done) but also Formal Languages and Automata Theory. That assumes that I do the homework. I swear I will.
Oh yeah, the satisfactory academic progress has little to do with my GPA and everything to do with all those classes I withdrew from in 1996 and 1997. Yes, I’m due to graduate in 2008, which means that I am on the twelve year plan.
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We have rigged a system of fans to blow cold air up the stairs into my bedroom, but it is still fairly muggy up here. I saw this roller dog in the street, and it was the first roller dog that I have been able to resist. Maybe if it had be verifyably cheddarwurst I might have… no!
I just thought that everyone should share the joy of a hot dog in the street.
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Today’s three hour “discussion” section of Computer Science 4011 (Formal Languages and Automata Theory) was held in a brick oven. By the end of class I was getting very hungry, what with all the employees reaching into the classroom with those pizza peels to place uncooked pizzas on our desks. Eight minutes later, pure deliciousness would be snatched away by those same giant paddles. Or maybe I just passed out and dreamed about that pizza.
Here’s some math for you:
Formal Languages + Automata Theory + Ninety Five Degree Heat = Sleep
Install some FUCKING air conditioning, University of Minnesota. I mean it. What the fuck is that giant piece of angular shit on campus? Defenders love to say “it’s nice inside,” but fuck that. I am gonna burn that shit down so the U can use the insurance money to turn another ancient building into a five floor mall like Coffman. Coffman at least has air conditioning. I’d take a class there and even stay awake. If alumni want to have a nice place to visit when they come to campus, why not visit a classroom building? I wonder if the bums know that the alumni center is nice - they seem to prefer walking around Coffman with wet asses and giant colossal beards.
That reminds me of a story: the other day I spilled half of my Nalgene bottle into the passenger seat of my car. It was no big deal because I only use the driver seat for my business (if you know what I’m saying), except that the next day, Lisa wanted to borrow my car, so she offered to drive me to work. About thirty seconds into the ride, I realized that my ass was getting moist, and for once it was not a good thing. There was nothing to do but go to work with a wet ass. I hope that anyone else who plays “spot the homeless guy” at Coffman won themselves some points off of my dampened jeans.
When I got home today, I changed clothes because the seatbelt had left a foul strip of sweat across my chest from my ten minute drive. Stan and I went to Target, where I stumbled through the aisles in a heat-induced stupor. Target may have been frosty, but direct sunlight had raised my body temperature to fever levels, so I was hot, sweaty, and somehow clammy. Returning home to the central air was like rejoining the human race after having my frontal lobe inserted into the anal cavity of a racehorse. I’m not sure how that analogy works, but you will have to create your own mental imagery. Please don’t share, I’ve got my own mental image of that, and I do not want to know which one of us is a fouler example of a human being. It’s probably me, but I don’t want confirmation of that.
This was all going to board a train and ride it to some thought, but all I can wrap my head around is the constant ache of hot weather.
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Someone wrote on this ad, they replaced it, and there it was again. I think that it was meant to be — I only wish it was me.
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When I was younger I heard tell of a band with two bass players. “Do tell!” I said, and forced my mother’s then boyfriend to help me order a CD from such a band through the now defunct Northern Lights record store. Mother FUCKER that’s indie, yo. Anyway, I enjoyed the album, even though I didn’t get all of it. Later, I sucked up everything that they outputted (including one album on cassette, which was a MISTAKE, because now I can’t enjoy it, since it is in the garage in a tub that is meant to fit under ones bed, but instead is in the aforementioned home for cars, which is too small to accomodate said tub and a vehicle). When they broke up (sad) I switched to Firewater, which is also THE AWESOME, but in a different way. Eventually I picked up the Red Expendables, but, uh, it wasn’t the same. So be it.
Anyway, even though I enjoyed the albums of Cop Shoot Cop, I don’t think that I really appreciated them until just recently. Anyway, I enjoyed the company of a friend tonight, but bookended it by singing along to a particular CSC song very loudly in my car. THIS IS WHY WE HAVE CARS. Cars aren’t for transportation, they are moving receptacles for loud singing.
Looking for a bar to burn
Waiting for the tide to turn
Some people never learn
And I should know
It isn’t really as bad as all that. I just knew that I would end up playing a role, but that role would not be a starring one, and that would be kind of sucky. Still, it’s only when I’m very drunk that I feel like my spleen is being ripped out, and only when Paul is a jerk and asks me stuff that he knows (theoretically) will gut me. Maybe he doesn’t know because he’s too busy lighting the engines on fire and crashing feverishly into the nearby mountains. I understand that he will not be enjoying the spirits the weekend after next, and that’s a shame, because that would be a reasonably good time to fire up the Team Kickass drink wagon and drive it from Dinkytown to the West Bank or wherever.
Anyway, I’m mostly upset because I had to ask my dad for help getting a book for the class in which I am currently enrolled. I didn’t want to ask him. I mean, I don’t like asking anyone for help, but he’s really the last resort. Happy fucking father’s day.
No, I’m not drunk, I’m just reasonably confident that he doesn’t have a half decent computer at his house, and the only family member who reads my blog (besides Lisa) is a cousin on my mom’s side. Sure, there’s a pile of fucking drama there, but that has little to do with anything that I’m talking about right now, so we can all just take a chill pill and leave that shit behind us.
CSci 4011 has been fairly fun so far, for the two classes that I have taken. It seems a bit like unraveling regular expressions from the inside out - starting at the theoretical. I understand that it is 5011 where one actually uses regular expression, but one has to walk before one can jump.
I ran into a TA from my first semester back who is summering as a custodian. I viewed his resume, and it all made me very sad. I’m fairly sure that he won’t read my blog, but if so, man, I’m fucking sorry. I’d give you my job but I need it. Also, I’m more experienced? Well, I’m certainly older. Thank you thefacebook.com for all my stalking needs.
Not that I’m stalking anyone.
I should go to bed before I say anything more embarrassing.
If you’re wondering, the CD is a mix that I made to assist in the removal and replacement of my flawed… uh… heart… thing. Installation is the reverse of removal. Tighten all bolts to ninety foot pounds of torque in the star pattern illustrated on page 23 of this manual.
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Those of you who haven’t been able to read this blog because you use some AOL business may find it more amenable to your presence. I had nothing against you before, but Wordpress didn’t install an option during an upgrade, so it wasn’t specifying a complete Content-Type. Who knew? Well, I did, eventually. That’s neither here nor there.
Gallery Party in NYC! The weekend of August 20th! YES!
I will try very hard not to steal the Gallery party in favor of a week-belated celebration of me turning 30. 30! I have a stock joke about reaching the untrustable age: at 20 you die inside, and at 30 you join the undead. Fortunately for me, I am in school with 18 and 19 year old freshmen who will provide plenty of fresh (as in unused) brain matter for my feasting.
Speaking of school, I started CSci 4011 yesterday: Formal Languages and Automata Theory. It could be a real doozy, but it’s the only class that I’m taking over the summer, which means that I am off campus by like five or six every day! This is totally screwing up my schedule - especially since I have been taking an unofficial mini-vacation - sort of a busman’s holiday where I have been only working, going to “class” and tipping back a few on the weekends. It has been really strange, but I have managed to not worry about much for like two weeks.
Anyway, all that will shortly come to a close as I get my schedule figured out and get back on the Gallery horse. I still have a task list around here somewhere. I’m hoping that my experience at work of late will help me to push back the stuff that has been terrifying me: namely having to send every single line of code I write through the bharat and mindless filters. The new kids come around and are impressed by the migration module, but they apparently don’t know (or want to know) how that was like removing my own gallbladder on national television. I know about the spreader that I left in the incision - they miss that part. The real reason that I haven’t been working is because finals last semester broke my brain right as the distractions started piling on, and then the crew that usually hung out on irc just wasn’t there. I get some of my motivation from interaction (even the yourmom stuff), but… uh…
Maybe I’m just lazy. I dunno. I have my ticket though, and a ticket to Walt Mink on Friday, and maybe Paul will agree to another Team Kickass evening of debauchery, and maybe I will get another cake, and maybe Stan and I will finally start that techno goth band and maybe everything will be awesome all the time and as I walk down the street the band will play my theme song.
That was certainly an awesome ramble. I enjoyed it, and I hope you enjoyed it. I’m gonna go to sleep now.
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I made a new friend who reminded me of a lot of things that used to be important to me. It has been quite unsettling.
If you’re curious about school, there were three grades given to me this semester:
- CSci 1902 - Programming II / Java : A
- CSci 2011 - Discrete Math: B+
- Math 1272 - Calculus II: B-
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