“Gently Apply the Tuba to the Infected Area…”

Note: I’m glad everyone greatly enjoyed the last post. There were several responses along the lines of: “I laughed so hard, I peed myself a little at work. Then I tried to tell people why I laughed and they all looked at me in shame. - Jeff”

I have a friend named Daniel. He is one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met, and he looks like Jesus. Not only does he sport the Jesus haircut, but he has the matching glasses and tuba to go along. He made a bird house a few months ago and proved his carpentry skills aren’t bad. However, the paint job looked like a pastel factory vommited.

Daniel and Lazarus

His major is music related, and one of his classes is “Applied Tuba”. I’m not sure exactly what the course covers, but I presume it tries to teach tubaists everyday tuba use and how to not be socially awkward. It covers topics such as “Using your tuba to pick up women,” “making a cornicopia,” “jokes about key changes aren’t as funny as you think,” (that one is also known as “what won’t get you laid”) and “Tuba: Not your everyday lover.” I’d like to point out that I spelled cornicopia right the first time. Also tubaist is not a real world but I’m rebelling against the technology of the spellchecker.

Everyday the OSU band is on the library lawn practicing. Lately, they have been playing “Late in the Evening” by Paul Simon. Good choice. But who in the hell decided that marching bands should included anything except brass and drums? Not that I love just hearing brass and drums, but is the flutist really convinced that the fans in row 307 can hear her trilling? Or that the people in row 21 can’t tell the third clarinet player from the right is actually a guy? If only I could count the times that I heard “Wow, did you hear the triangle solo that started in the twelfth measure?”

Weddings

Over the last few months I’ve attended and missed quite a few weddings. Including my sisters, which I did attend. Churches are missing a large opportunity before the wedding. While the guests are waiting there should be previews. There are previews at movies, so why not at weddings? A little screen would come down and the narrators voice would start… “No one thought Cynthia would get married. But then she got pregnant. See the conclusion to what Prom night started. Coming January 18th.” Or “No one thought Jim’s last marriage would last. And it didn’t. Will this one? Coming March 23rd.”

On the topic of weddings, though my Sister was by far the most beautiful, lovely person there. She had some pretty tough challengers.

Aidan, William, Kiera, and Candace.

I think the ladies wiil be crazy for William because he has the whole rat-pack Bob Darin-Frank Sinatra thing going there. Actually, he is half Japanese, and that is a little showing off of Ninja reflexes. And since I focused on one nephew, I have to focus on the other.

“Mommy, I wish I could just fly up from here” he said wistfully to me from the top of the highest hill. - Elizabeth

Punch him in the Facebook

A few weeks ago in lab, a group of guys next to me were viewing a profile on Facebook. We’ll call the guy Jim. Apparently Jim posted a note about going on a date and he specified the restaurant. These fine young gentlemen, who hate Jim with a burning passion, called the restaurant…

Person pretending to be Jim: “Yes, I wanted to check the time of a reservation tonight. (pause) It is at 6:30pm? (pause) I’d like to cancel it.”

Remember, I witnessed this and had the exact same thought. Whose cell phone gets reception in the Student Union basement? That phone must release as much radiation as Cherynobyl’s nuclear power plant. That guy might as well be putting his heading in a microwave. Oh, yea, they were jerks too.

The Evolution of the 3rd Rock

Monday night I saw John Lithgow, who played Jennifer Grey as Patrick Swayzey’s romantic counter part in Dirty Dancing, speak at OSU. Actually, the speaker was the “ Evolution of Dance Guy”. I don’t know his name because the only thing I need to remember about him is that when music plays he dances like an organ monkey. His motivational speech consisted of run of the mill topics, and should have beeen replaced with more dancing. Or he should have danced once and left.

Living in Oklahoma, I halfway expected to see preachers and protestors on the evening news protesting the Dance Guy because “our dancing didn’t evolve from the poop flinging of monkeys!” Then I remembered Bible belts keep people from dancing. I obviously felt out of place as I stood outside and tried to sell those Jesus Fish for the back of your car, except these Jesus Fish were eating the Evolution of Dance Guy.

I don’t park my car under trees. It isn’t that I fear bird droppings. Rather I fear lumberjack droppings. Those tiny axes will ruin your car’s paint job.

Wednesdays mark the middle of the week and my weekly encounter with the strange night janitor at work. By strange, I mean that when he said “I went through 42 roommates in 2 years,” I wondered if he made them into creepy lamps or if they moved out. Our conversations quickly progress from cordial to creepy in a matter of seconds. For one, he thinks I get laid a lot. I know this because he says it quite often, such as “Have a good weekend. At least you get laid a lot.” Perhaps I put off an amazing vibe, but I’m pretty sure that I’m not getting laid at all, which is fine because I legally don’t pay child support now, and I’d like to keep that trend.

This disturbs me because morning loving isn’t a part of my daily balanced breakfast. Chewable vitamins are. And, I’m not sure if he means that I’m going to get laid by him, which would be an unfortunate event. I remember the janitors name because he thinks I get laid a lot and because he might make me into a creepy lamp. I want the to Police to have a solid lead to follow after reading my journals.

I Eat Generics Vitamins, not the Geniatrics

Vitamins truly are part of my daily balanced breakfast. I bought a bottle of children’s vitamins, and now I know why people are constantly OD’ing on them. I’m not sure what Cocaine or Heroin is like, but if either tasted similar to chewable vitamins, then I understand why both are addictive. I’m about ten seconds from discovering out how to freebase Flintstones and my friends and family are about to hold a Wilma and Fred intervention.

It is a combination of the fact that the childproof lids and DVD wrappers are easily conquered by my vast intellect, and the vitamins are tasty. I’m always wanting to pop one more vitamin six or seventy times. If I had milk that wasn’t spoiled, I’d be eating bowls of vitamin cereal. Of course I’d add some marshmallows. Forget sex in the morning. I can have vitamins whenever and wherever I want, like in the shower or while I’m driving. Yes, that is right. Sometimes I get road-vitamin.

You may be concerned and thinking “But you can take too many vitamins!” What you really mean is that you can’t get enough of these tasty boogers. And since they are human shaped, cannibalism never tasted so good. If those chewable pieces of heaven are harmful, they shouldn’t sell them to me. Instead, only my Mom or Laura should be able to purchase them and distribute them.

What’s in your Trousers?

I’ll try to get all of the potty humor out in one swift movement. The word Trouser Socks makes me laugh, like when we were fifth graders and the geography teacher said “Lake Titicaca” or when a great punch line ended with “Do you think I wished for a ten inch pianist”. Do people realize that Trouser Socks and Trouser Snake are really similar sounding. I can’t resist the immature temptation to switch the words when I hear people talking…

“I need to go to Wal-Mart and get a pair of Trouser Snakes.”
“You had my Trouser Snake from hello.”
“… brought forth to this Nation a new Trouser Snake…”
“There’s a Trouser Snake in my Boot!”

Tag! You’ve got Psychosis!

Recently schools have been banning the classic game of “tag” to reduce the number of lunch time accidents and to shield children from the psychological trauma of being tagged “it”. At first I was skeptical because schools could ban lunch instead and completely eliminate lunch time accidents. However, that doesn’t account for potential psychological trauma. I hadn’t seen any data supporting the trauma model, but then I made a graph in MSPaint.

The graph transformed my skepticism in to pure faith (or in nerd speak from semi-truck into Optimus Prime) that we can do more to protect children. If we follow my four step program, diagramed below, children will be protected from the dangers of lunch, tag, consciousness, sharks, potatoes, cafeteria food, and Fox News.

Ingredients: Valium + Straight Jackets + (Ball Filled Room + Padded Room)

Once the steps have been enacted, children will be fed liquid meals by straw. Seriously, if a child doesn’t like an activity, he or she won’t participate in it. However, some parents aren’t as apt as their children. If your kid isn’t psychologically sound enough to play tag, then you need to schedule therapy now.

Tossing the Word Salad

That should have been the title of “Yes Molly Yes” in the previous blog.

In an ideal world a Coca-cola truck and a Doritos truck will collide at the intersection where I live. For the record, I live in the house at the intersection. I have no idea whose cardboard box that is. Perhaps this dreamy collision of carbonation and ranch flavor will never happen, but I am prepared for a best case scenario (i.e. - I already bought paper towels, plastic red cups, and a bag of ice). No one would leave the scene of that accident. Maybe a tapioca shipment will collide with a delivery of spoons…

“I want to teach, but I don’t want to read” - Thoughts of a P.E. major

“Bull” Study 1, Ink, based on Picasso

OSU has a strong architecture program. Yet, it has a massive flaw: the program doesn’t require the study of art. This is troubling since great architects are, with few exceptions, excellent artists (Michelangelo, da Vinci, Calatraba, Zaha Hadid, Gaudi). It is a math program without multiplication. Architecture without art is simply missing the picture (no pun intended). Art used to be a weekly staple in my life, but I haven’t had art classes in years. Next semester I’m taking Architecture Studio III, and in preparation I am sharpening my mind by studying the line art of Picasso (my favorite artist) and the forms of nature (specifically human form).

Form Study 1, Ink, based on a photograph I found. I am not a sexist pig.

Edit: I knew someone would leave a comment about the second drawing being a female. By “nature” I don’t mean specifically females. What I’m looking for is forms where part of the background defines the foreground. This is the only finished form study I have and the image is misleading in that she is actually wearing a dress (a short one, but none the less a dress). You can define something one of three ways: by defining its borders with lines, by defining the space around it, or by using it to define the space it is in. It should be noted that most masters of art (this includes architecture) are masters of the human form. I will state that I believe the most graceful lines are those of female form.

Vote Happy, Vote Hitler?

Science has uncovered countless mysteries (”What are twinkies made of?”, “Why do Australians have accents?”, “Do all giraffes eat meat?”). It has even found an occasional answer, such as “Dewey Decimal System”. And no, it was Diseny not science that answered “Do all dogs go to Heaven?”. The most important question is why don’t stupid people have a shorter life span or why are they always politicians? Specifically, stupid people like Vernon Robinson. Vernon is running to be Hitler. Or perhaps it Congress, but his propaganda or “ ads” make it hard to tell the difference.

Vernon: “I’d like an ad that says `Fuck You: Gays, Lesbians, Mexicans, Bilinguals, Judges, Liberals, Democrats, Minorities, and Constitution’? It should be black and white to give it that `I loved McCarthy’ feel.”