Throwing is the new rolling

Defending Your Like

2008-03-31T12:01:00.000-04:00

From [craigslist.org]:

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best of craigslist > s.f. bayarea >

Originally Posted: Tue, 26 Feb 17:25 PST
Thanks, Mr.Hipster Record Store Clerk.
Date: 2008-02-26, 5:25PM PST

Dear Hipster Record Store Clerk,

Thank you for judging me on the CD I bought yesterday. Our passive-aggressive altercation made me realize how conformist I am for buying an old Rage Against The Machine album. Your condescension was just the intellectual wake-up call I needed.

I discovered a new me yesterday, and my eyes were opened in a new way. Thanks to you, I realize now that the key to enlightenment is reading Pitchfork, watching High Fidelity, listening to Velvet Underground, having a tattoo of a star on the inside of my wrist, growing an ironic mustache, living in the Mission, and wearing a too-small sweater, multi-colored 70’s ski-vest, chunky plastic-frame glasses, a high school sports T-shirt, air-tight black jeans, and Nixon-era Chuck Taylors.

I had it all wrong, man. You showed me that a skilled job and a comfortable living is just a lie. I need to go to art school, have my parents pay my rent, join a Joy Division-influenced band, and wait for a record deal, like you. I’m totally missing out in life.

So thanks again for mocking me. I mean, at first I thought you were just a pathetic, frustrated musician trying to feel better about yourself. But now I see you’re an uncompromising visionary.

No one will ever understand you. You’re so different.

Signed,

Everyone Not Like You

* it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 588037045

Copyright © 2008 craigslist, inc.

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For everyone who has ever been told, reflexively, that some piece of music they enjoyed was shit...

or been answered with a sneer and a "They're really not that good,"
or told "You get easily excited over crap."
or had someone imply that they are introverted or uncool for liking something
or made to feel stupid for showing enthusiasm about some movie, book, or song that touched them

I raise my mug in salute to you, Everyone-Not-Like-You. I've been dealing with people like the asshole clerks in High Fidelity my whole life. Maybe someday they'll realize that the impenetrable taxonomy of music genres is not the highest achievement of intellectual discourse.

==salvagebar

Salvagebar reads some spooky shit

2008-02-29T13:41:00.003-05:00

After a long, long gestation period, I am launching my reading podcast. The first recording is "Nyarlathotep," by Howard Phillips Lovecraft. It's world premiere is on Yog Radio, episode 28, which has just gone live. Yog Radio is a Lovecraftiana podcast. Constructive criticism is encouraged; your enjoyment is hoped for.

Yog Radio podcast home - You can use the feed in your podcatcher utility to download, or use the web player halfway down the page. My reading begins 42min30sec into the show.

--salvagebar

OMGDIDYOUSEETHATCRASH splortch

2008-02-07T12:58:00.000-05:00

I have always been a fan of the Junkyard Wars/Robot Wars/Mythbusters type of television. I never tire of watching really rugged, practical people making 1337 devices from scratch. I admit, though, there is an element to my enjoyment that I find... unusual.

Am I the only man who finds an arc welder in the hands of a slender woman a thrill? Watching a petite female oversee the placing of a concrete safety wall gives me a charge.

Building and destroying is a turn-on. I admit it.

As I watch Smash Lab with its extremely high-speed/slow-motion TEN SECOND shots (that's long) of a car smashing into an aerated concrete wall, I close my eyes.

I hereby name this genre of show "Engineer Pr0n."

--salvagebar

What is a bus guide?

2008-02-01T01:02:00.000-05:00

Why do they pitch my tent? Refer some onna to me, ASAP!

-salvagebar

running > fighting

2008-01-25T23:23:00.001-05:00

I was walking home one night. It was about 10 pm, and my belly was full of delicious (albeit overpriced) diner food. I had all of one beer-- a weak one at that. And it came as a total surprise. There were about a dozen of them, though only two stepped up. One cold-cocked me in the chin. He didn't say shit, just let 'er rip and waited for me to drop. Fortunately, I don't have the congenital weakness known as a "glass jaw" and I instead took the opportunity to shout: "Fuck you, bitches!" and ran like a bitch.

They chased me about a block before I started really running, at which point I realized running 8 miles a day gave me a certain edge on the little punks. I slowed down and watched them drop off one-by-one behind me. I sped back up, made a right, a left, ran through some yards, ran basic counter-surveillance (doubled-back, stopped for a while to watch for a tail, walked into another bar) before I finally jumped the fence to my own condo complex and wearily climbed the stairs into my unit.

Much to my surprise, my chin was bleeding like a mofo--which explains the looks I got at the bar I stepped into for a few minutes-- so I decided to hoof it to the hospital...

I was delighted to find the same nurse that was there (hanneman university) the last time I walked into the emergency room (of the infamous fucked up hand incident). I was even more delighted to find that she remembered me! Instead of making me sign in and wait an hour for the next available doctor, she took me into an empty room, swabbed my chin clean, and gave me her professional opinion (Jane, pay attention).
Really Cute Nurse - "They hit you pretty hard. It'll leave a scar, but there's nothing any stitches can help. Just leave it be, and it'll heal in a few days as best it can. And be more careful next time, you're always getting hurt." (a summary--she wanted me to talk to the po-lice, I refused)

That's about all there is to that story. I'm getting ready to go to Serbia for a week, possibly two, then a weekend in London to visit friends. Keep an eye on the news. If Kosovo or Belgrade starts burning again, then I must have some sort of destabilizing touch (see Kenya if you doubt the overwhelming power of Doc's finger of DOOM!).

--HK_Newbie

Johnny Lee, I Salute You

2008-01-24T23:51:00.000-05:00

Hi, my name is Johnny Lee, and in this video I am going to show you why I am the coolest living human.

helloooo

2008-01-13T11:01:00.000-05:00

I thought I would resurrect this blog a little with a little question:

How excited are you about Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles?

I'm only a little excited by it because I think it's going to suck. Before I get into my gripes about it- I'll say this: I'm excited about this because Sarah Connor is the hottest milf in all milf history. Yes, that's right, I said THAT. And ohkay, that's only half the reason I'm excited- the other half is because I love the Terminator series. When I first saw the advertisements on the city buses, my first reaction was that it was going to be awesome! And then I went home and watch Terminator and T2 twice a day for month. (JK!)

How much of a coincidence is it that it premieres tonight, on the day of my birth? Pretty coincidental!

Anyway, if Arnold were involved in this, I'd probably have a little more faith in the project. But honestly, I think it's going to end up pissing me off.

Lena Headey as Sarah Connor doesn't quite convince me that she's a badass like Linda Hamilton did. She at least should be a little bit more buff. She's not nearly angry enough, strong enough, and at one point she seems downright soft when she begs the good robot to "help me help my son."

The guy who plays John Connor (Thomas Dekker) is as usual pretty scrubby. Not much to say about him.

Maybe my biggest misgiving about this show is the "friend from the future." A female cybernetic organism disguised as a high school girl. And she seems to be as annoying as a high school girl. Of course, she was developed as a marketing scheme to pull in the girls as well as the boys. However, she's totally WEAK. Even less badass looking then the show's Sarah Connor. And she actually gets to say "Come with me if you want to live." I guess I'm just super faithful to the T-101. I also have had enough of these tough girl shows (coughANGELcough) featuring pretty faces/hot bodies who can't act. Least convincing character of the whole show.

The one saving grace for the show is the evil robot. I guess you can't really go wrong with that though.

So I guess I'll be back- either eating my words or being even more angry about the show after I watch it tonight.

-Calamity Jane

Equal parts cute and weird

2007-11-11T10:45:00.000-05:00

Do I look like I give good advice?

2007-11-10T22:55:00.000-05:00

Okay, weird week. I've been trucking around the city lately on my bicycle; visiting areas I normally don't go, walking into random bars for a drink or two, talking to people out of the blue, and even helping a few people along the way.
Take for example the cute, stranded, blond, jersey girl from Friday morning. She's standing outside of her car (a blue ford something-or-other), poking away at the electronic combination lock just above the door handle with a worried look on her face. Being the nice guy that I normally am, I ignore her (though the two homeless, paraplegic war-vets in the neighborhood do not and see if they can do anything) and head in to the pizza joint for my morning hang-over pizza. 10 minutes later, I come back out, and now she has a small crowd of wanna-be gangsters surrounding her (the war-vets rolled away, after deciding it was fruitless) and she now has a semi-terrified look on her face. I sigh, walk over, and ask her if she forgot the combo. She affirms this, I reach into my wallet and pull out my handy-dandy debruijin sequence (five factorial) and ask her if she won't mind me opening it for her.
"How are you going to do that?" She asks.
"Don't worry about it, it's just a matter of numerical brute force. It'll only take 15 minutes max. I promise." The wanna-be gangstas start laughing at this point, telling her I'm bullshitting, which makes me even more eager to begin.
"Go ahead, I'm not getting anywhere" she steps back and lets me kneel down by the door. 8 minutes later the head-lights flash and the door lock clicks open. The crowd behind me shuts up for a brief moment, then the cutie gives me a big hug, asks me where I learned how to do that, and, just to fuck with her, I say "prison."
I can tell she just regretted that hug, but still, she thanks me profusely again, practically pushes me over to get back into the car, and drives away. One of the guys asks me for my cheat-sheet, but I just shake my head and tell him to get his own. Score 1 for the nerds.

On the opposite side, a crack-head followed me around for about 20 minutes on her bike cause she thought I was her friend Ralph. I told her I look nothing like a Ralph, and if I did, I certainly wouldn't be her friend cause I have no friends, only mortal enemies and concubines (and she did not fit into the concubine category, no matter how thick my beer goggles might get). When I stopped to get a slice of pizza from my second favorite joint in old city (are you seeing a pattern here) she walked in with me and asked me if I knew where such-and-such a bar was. The hot Romanian chick behind the counter was giving us a strange look and I realized if I was ever going to have a chance of scoring with hot Romanian pizza chick (complete with accent and noticeably foreign fashion sense) I'd have to ditch the delusional crack-head. Is "delusional crack-head" redundant?

So what did I do? (I giggle thinking about this even now) I point toward the rear of the store, shout "what the hell is that!?!!" and as Ms. Cracky McCrazy looks in that direction, I grab my pizza and run out the front door, hop on my bike, and peddle like a madman back to my hood.

Running from your problems is the greatest thing ever and (if you do it right) it never comes back to bite you in the ass. If I teach anyone anything, it'll be that.

--HK_Newbie

Kenya: A cesspool of guns, violence, and transactional sex--I LOVE IT!

2007-10-26T19:13:00.000-04:00

So, I recently did a weeklong stint in Nairobi, Kenya. For the geographically challenged among us (read: American), it's along the Eastern Coast of Africa, just south of the Equator. Leaving aside my reason for taking the 18 hour flight in the first place, let's explore just a few of the more memorable events I experienced while attempting to have a fun time.

It's around midnight, on the side of an unnamed dirt road about 20 miles outside of Nairobi-proper on our way to a popular restaurant aptly named "Carnivore". I'm on my knees along with about 4 or 5 UN representatives, looking down the barrel of a Kalashnikov, singing the praises of the assault rifle to the young man behind it.
"Is that a soviet-issue? 7.62 X 39mm, probably one of the best all-around rounds in existence. Good stopping power, highly accurate. Hell, the gun itself is the model of reliability. You could bury it in the sand out here for a month, fully loaded, come back, pull the trigger, and it'll fire as if nothing happened. That's fucking engineering for you, right?" The guard laughed and told me it was his favorite gun. I told him about my SKS at home, how you could take it apart and clean it effectively using only a bullet and a greasy rag, and its accuracy under a 100 yards (which meant nothing to the kid, they think in meters, those colonial tools!). At first, I was certain myself and all my buddies were gonna be pumped full of lead and left on the roadside--none of us had our passports and the checkpoint leader (the men holding us were more than likely a home-grown militia, not actual police) was giving our taxi driver a world of shit.
Then, a miracle happened: the kid i was talking to went to his boss and started machine gunning Swahili. The boss looked over at us, gave me the stink eye, and waved us back into the taxi. When we finally got to the restaurant about 10 minutes later, I downed a few shots of rum in rapid succession (going one-for-one with the cute Swedish UN chick) and saluted my freakish knowledge of Russian firearms for once again saving me from certain doom.

I work with overpaid, officious bitches

2007-09-24T18:20:00.000-04:00

You'll find them almost anywhere you need to interact with people: Grocery stores, College registrar's offices, beached like a sunbathing elephant seal in front of your boss's desk. Yes, I'm talking about secretaries, or as they're known today, "executive assistants."

Their job is supposedly to make shit easier. Organize business flows, facilitate meetings, blah blah fucking blah. All this exposure to people who actually matter seems to get to their heads though, and after a while they suffer the persistent delusion that THEY are actually the one's responsible for quality checking the targeting modules of ballistic missile systems (or something like that)--To this I say: "No bitch! you're not! Now go get me a fucking cup of tea!"

Please don't misunderstand me, some secretaries rock. Particularly the ones who bond with me-- the IT guy who doesn't share some of their fellow secretarial delusions of grandeur and realizes my only role in this big shadowy game we play is nothing more than a digital maintenance man-- and go to lunch with me to bitch about the assholes we work with. Sadly, this particular species of self-aware woman (and yes, secretaries are almost 100% women. Welcome to the glass ceiling corporate culture, now shut up and make me a sandwich) is all too rare. As a rough order of magnitude, i'd place the cool secretaries at 1 out of 10. This indicate that 9 of those 10 are vapid vacuums of food, intellect, and common courtesy. Take for example this recent episode:

I arrive at an office to drop of three, count 'em THREE, cardboard boxes of backup tapes. Not very large, and not very heavy for one of the local executives (read: someone who matters) to pick up at her convenience. Of course, one secretary is on the phone jabbing like an evangelist at a revival meeting, totally ignoring the fact that i'm right in front of her on the other side of a glass door, frantically stabbing my ineffectual finger into the door bell. 5 minutes pass, useless bitch #2 walks to the door, swings it open, and points a small device at me. "that buzzing means it's open!" She shouts, angered that she had to rouse herself from her nest in the burrows of the cubicle farms. Little did she know that I was quickly able to identify the small device as a remote door trigger, otherwise i would've had to disable her ninja-style (instant decapitation followed by punting the head into the closest waste-basket).

Rather than face further interaction with the she-beast, i cocked my head to the side, said "that's nice" and carried the boxes away from her to the other secretary who quickly got off the phone.

"these are for someone who matters, which is neither of you. tell me where i can deposit these so i can go away and purge the images of you from my memory with alcohol before they set in too deep." Okay, this probably wasn't the best way to put it, but i was understandably upset.

The she-beast doesn't go run away like a smart bottom-of-the-food-chain mammal in close proximity to the Lion of the executive support veldt (that's me). Instead, she interjects her fat ass and tells me "we don't have room for those."

DING DING DING!! We have acquired target. Engines at full, load all torpedoes, engage motherfucker, ENGAGE!!!

"These boxes each takes up 32 cubic inches. Somehow, in that small space, they manage to perform more activity to the company's benefit than you have ever or will ever do. You are a waste of flesh and precious oxygen. You will find the space, even if it displaces you from your underground lair. Now go away before i have to scrape your remains from the bottom of my shoe."

Thank god i'm smarter than everyone else.

--HK_Newbie

Why does the airport hate me?

2007-08-19T13:07:00.000-04:00

I recently found this on a corner of the internets:

Are You a Drug Courier?

Perhaps. Let's see whether you fit the profile. While traveling by air, did you / were you:

--Arrive late at night?

--Arrive early in the morning?

--One of first to deplane?

--One of last to deplane?

--Deplane in the middle?

--Use a one-way ticket?

--Use a round-trip ticket?

--Carry brand-new luggage?

--Carry a small gym bag?

--Travel alone?

--Travel with a companion?

--Act too nervous?

--Act too calm?

--Wear expensive clothing and gold jewelry?

--Wear black corduroys, white pullover shirt, loafers without socks?

--Wear dark slacks, work shirt, and hat?

--Wear brown leather aviator jacket, gold chain, hair down to shoulders?

--Wear loose-fitting sweatshirt and denim jacket?

--Walk rapidly through airport?

--Walk aimlessly through airport?

--Fly in to Washington National Airport on the LaGuardia Shuttle?

--Have a white handkerchief in your hand?

Each of those details was upheld, in federal court, as partial justification to detain someone at an airport. Each constituted, at least after the fact, part of "the profile."

Lately, I've been back to flying back and forth across the continental US (and soon, to some Eastern European and Eurasian countries) and each time, without fail, I've been pulled aside as a "person of interest" to be inspected by the unskilled douchebags who think running their hands alongside my inner thighs somehow help them in determining the difference between a terrorist and some pissed-off kid who's about to give them a New Balance suppository. Now that I see the guidelines these people are working with, I know exactly how to prove my non-terrorist nature. Stay with me here...

Newbie's Tips On Not Being Labeled a Potential Terrorist/Drug-Runner:

--Arrive late at night?
--Arrive early in the morning?
1. Arrive mid-afternoon, no matter when your flight is actually scheduled to depart. Everyone knows terrorists are Islamic and mid-afternoon is one of the five "calls to prayer" when they have to knee down and prostrate themselves in the general direction of God (who, I believe, is situated in a large stone box somewhere in Mecca (just off the red sea). Apparently, God prefers dry, hotter-than-hell climes to host his earthly presence.)

--One of first to deplane?
--One of last to deplane?
--Deplane in the middle?
2. Physically interject yourself into random sections of the boarding and exit lines. If you have to take down a grandma in her walker and an Air Marshal during the course of your line-oscillations, so be it.

--Use a one-way ticket?
--Use a round-trip ticket?
3. The ticketing problem is somewhat difficult to convince the powers that be that you are NOT a terrorist, because they look for both one-way and round-trip tickets and, as far as I know, there are no "one-full-way, and-a-half-trip-back" ticket options. Probably the best thing to do is to cry uncontrollably when they look at your ticket once you queue up. Terrorists are very much like Chuck Norris: their tears can cure cancer, but neither of them EVER CRY.

--Carry brand-new luggage?
--Carry a small gym bag?
4. Try fed-exing all your luggage, and only bring a book as a carry on. I would not recommend bringing the Koran. Try something like Ann Coulture's "100 and 1 ways to cook a minority baby" (The NYT review of books gives it "two terrifying thumbs up!").

--Travel alone?
--Travel with a companion?
5. You're fucked whether you travel alone or with a companion, so I'd settle for a happy medium: Get a hooker! (This is kinda my default answer for every problem in life, but it actually kinda works here) Make sure everyone knows you have solicited the prostitute just for the ride, and your relationship is purely sexual/business in nature. Terrorists don't solicit prostitutes, that would be diametrically opposed to their ultra-conservative, sexually repressive moral landscape (rape, on the other hand...) and drug runners get them for free (or at least on the barter system).

--Act too nervous?
--Act too calm?
6. Ah, the nervous and calm profiling technique. Likely, the TSA observers would base these perceptions purely on identifying facial tics, so I recommend the old "Turret's Syndrome" approach. Squish up your face every few seconds into a different expression, running the gamut between "my dog just died" and "I'm coming in your face right now". Try throwing in a few odd-sounding grunts for realism. Let them just try to figure out whether you're nervous or calm now! And is there a "good" nervous, that's just nervous enough? Kind of like a "fear-of-god" nervous, except it's a "fear-of-TSA". These guys just love being objects of terror. Pot, meet kettle.

--Wear expensive clothing and gold jewelry?
--Wear black corduroys, white pullover shirt, loafers without socks?
--Wear dark slacks, work shirt, and hat?
--Wear brown leather aviator jacket, gold chain, hair down to shoulders?
--Wear loose-fitting sweatshirt and denim jacket?
7. Terrorists/Drug-Mules are notorious for their out-of-the-norm clothing choices. Whether it be a well-dressed Libyan drug-runner with gold chain around his neck and (gasp) hair down to his shoulders, or a mountain-dwelling Afghani jihadist unused to modern fashion (hence the loafers without socks), they have a wide range of possible attire selections. In light of these restrictions, and possible misinterpretations of whatever the fuck you throw on, the best outfit to wear is what i like to call "the naked bag suit."

--Walk rapidly through airport?
--Walk aimlessly through airport?
8. Instead of walking aimlessly or rapidly through the airport, one should walk very slowly (think sloth-speed and cut that in half) and with purpose. That is, if you need to use the facilities, walk very slowly toward the closest bathroom while announcing (with a smile, of course) "I need to pee. I need to pee." This way, there can be no confusions about your intentions.

--Fly in to Washington National Airport on the LaGuardia Shuttle?
9. Well, I just wouldn't recommend doing this in the first place.
Who the fuck flies out of Queens other than drug-runners and terrorists? Answer: Calamity Jane.

--Have a white handkerchief in your hand?
10. I have no idea where this came from, and am quite honestly boggled. Unless there's a very effeminate terrorist organization or drug cartel that uses a white handkerchief as their calling card, I'd just suggest staying away from the whole handkerchief business to begin with. (On a side note, who the hell uses handkerchiefs anymore? The only guys who should have handkerchiefs must also wear a fedora, carry a .38 detective's special S&W, and solve crimes in half-hour intervals).

--HK_Newbie

P.S. Congrats to Natedawg on the C.P.A. If i had enough assets or the initiative to warrant doing my taxes, I'd ask him to do them for me.

Life

2007-08-07T17:47:00.001-04:00

I passed the CPA bitches!!!!!! Of course I am still broke and that will probably be the case for a while to come. I am riding a charity bike ride on my birthday from Philly to Ocean City. I have to raise a minimum of $250 or they cut off my head. Its the middle eastern approach to fund raising. If anyone wants to help, here is my link.

~Natedawg

2007-07-08T02:48:00.000-04:00

Random Thoughts:

So, I've been sleeping in a friend's house in Maryland for the past two months with (in a separate room!) her brother, her brother's wife, and husband without the opportunity to go home to Philly to take care of the basic essentials. By this time the following things have happened:

1. The dirty, sweaty work-out clothing that i keep in plastic bags in my bathroom have probably developed a mold that has gained a sort of consciousness. It will soon take over Philadelphia in classic "blob" (nothing hurts the blob!) style. I have a feeling i will be held accountable.

2. A buddy of mine who i've known for a while (i've been to his wedding, been drunk with him on many occasions, run the MCM and Philly Marathon with him before) put me on his list for Top Secret clearance interviewee (somehow they trust me with this stuff!). At the end of the questionnaire (which i've been through many times, so i've had the opportunity to prepare this answer), the federal agent asks me "has mr. XXX ever expressed a desire to overthrow the American Government through violence or force?" I thought about it for a second and replied, "you know what, he's probably the ONLY friend of mine who's never expressed such sentiments!"

Obviously, that wasn't a good interview. Sorry, buddy!

3. I have vague recollections of "things" happening in the back of my rental car one bender night in Adam's Morgan. I really should install a recording device of some sort so i don't have to rely entirely on context clues (like a smelly hand!).

4. New job prospects on the horizon include:

Department of Homeland Security Systems Operator-- Gwhahahahahahahha! Perfect. At least, that's what all my IRC and work buddies tell me.

Technical Writer: ummm, i don't suck at it, but then again, i'm not very good either.

Ninja Assasin: as if there was any doubt.

5. I've lost my cell phone in the Potomac. I got a new one cause my boss got sick of only getting in contact with me during work hours. Fortunately, i've managed to keep this new number a secret. People must acquire this new number at the cost of their SOUL! (which i will subsequently keep in a shoebox in my closet)

Until next time, kiddies!

--HK_Newbie

--P.S. Some people who I've cut off in the past (family members, former friends, girl-friends, etc) have been contacting me recently in an odd, highly-unlikely sequence of events involving diners, bars, clubs, and email. It's really weird, cause i tend to think that people who i haven't seen in years cease to exist.

So much for that philosophy.

Who has anger control issues?

2007-06-18T12:11:00.000-04:00

Huh, who? I dunno. Possibly me; you decide.

Scene 1:
Newbie is in his condo, putting together a scale model of the Voyager 1 spacecraft. The high-gain antenna snaps.

NEWBIE: YAAARRRGH!!! DAMN YOU NASA! AND YOUR SHODDY BUILDING MATERIALS TOO!

Newbie punches the city-scape of NYC hanging on his living-room wall, glass proceeds to sever tendons in his fingers. Newbie drinks a beer, goes to sleep, wakes up the next morning, walks to Hannehman, meets cute nurse, gets number, can't make a fist anymore.

Scene 2:
Newbie is at a book-store in Maryland, right outside Fort Meade. He hands his books to the cashier and waits for the spiel.

CASHIER: Do you have a super-book-savers-membership-club-card?

NEWBIE: No thank you though.
Newbie holds out money.

CASHIER: I asked if you had one.

NEWBIE: And I replied "No thank you" as in "no" I don't have one, and I anticipated your highly-fucking-annoying second question with a "thank you, though". Can I pay for my fucking books now?

Cashier and fellow purchasers of books stare at Newbie as one would a crazy street person pontificating in the nude on a box of nails.

Cashier: oooooookaaaaay...

Scene 3:
Newbie stands in line at a grocery store in DC. The people in front of him are almost done. The cashier notices him waiting.

CASHIER: Sir, line 1 is open now. You can go there.

Newbie proceeds to line 1, someone beats him there, he heads back for his previous line, where the cashier is just about finished with the person in line. Someone cuts in front of him just before he returns.

NEWBIE: Well fuck me.

Newbie drops his sushi, salad, and green tea on the supermarket floor. Food-stuffs go flying. Newbie exits the store slowly, all eyes on the back of his head.

What do you think, Kiddies!

--HK_Newbie

The Terror. The Terror.

2007-05-17T10:04:00.000-04:00

I was wisely using my lunch time hour to evaluate the...err...assets of the pussy cat dolls (i'm not sure exactly who comprises this group). Their democratically-elected leader appears to be the gorgeous (that word could be used to describe any of them really; they are interchangeably gorgeous) chick who, for a large part of the video, sticks up her index finger, tilts her head to the side, and dances a lazy sort of jig. Oh, and she lips synchs poorly.

Of course, none of this matters (the beauty, the finger, jig dancing) when the goddamn editing gives you about 3 seconds to appreciate it before cuts. Here, watch:

See what I mean? It's directed like a bad japanese robot fighting cartoon where the attention span of the audience is so brief (think golden retriever brief) that a new, violently glowing image must be presented every other second in a sequence that will inevitably cause epileptic seizures in large amounts of the population. And there's some weird posturing going on, most of which really doesn't make much sense in the context that it's occurring. Take, for example, my favorite "pants" scene:
She seems just a BIT too happy to be putting on pants, doesn't she? What are these pants? Why do they make her so happy? And why is she wearing a black bra?

These are all questions that haunt me. Every waking moment of my day thus far is spent in quiet, pussy-catish contemplation. I'm like a modern Buddha and my koan is focused on the this woman's pants. Damn, religion is COOL.

I leave you with an image that, on many levels, generalizes the pussy cat dolls:

--HK_Newbie

That extra dimension makes all the difference

2007-05-15T17:10:00.000-04:00

There are plenty of people who prefer the pre-Playstation Final Fantasy games to later offerings in the series. Much like the fans who loved the first "Pirates of the Caribbean" and hated its sequel, I never understood these types. Both works were essentially identical. Final Fantasy VII, for example, was the Halo of the PSX - the marquee game, the first game they advertised on movie theater screens, the game many people bought that console to play, inspiring two sequel games set in the same world. More importantly, though, the Seven+ Final Fantasies kept all the hallmarks that made the series great: namely, long playing times, incredibly convoluted and melodramatic plots, interesting visual design, and quirky hairstyle choices.

Shonen Jump released pics of the new Final Fantasy 4 3D remake for the DS, and someone on the NeoGAF forums made a couple of images comparing the new one with the same events from the original SNES version. Enjoy.

Why being homeless would be AWESOME

2007-05-04T16:48:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking about it often lately (mostly after contemplating multi-tool hari-kiri after dealing with a particularly stupid cow-orker) and every day, the idea of being a homeless drunken bum sounds more and more TOTALLY AWESOME.

Allow me to regale you with my reasoning:

*Bums don't work. They just kind of layabout, shoot the shit, give sage advice to lost travelers, and stab each-other. All of which are skills that I possess in spades!

*Constant drunkenness. Bums somehow have the ability to acquire quality alcohol at all times of day and in all locations. And they drink it like normal folks aerobically inhale and process oxygen--except we don't curl up and die of cirrhosis after a hard month of breathing.

*Bums never have to deal with PECO, Comcast, or other asshole corporate bill-collecting agencies. For this one reason alone, I would gladly give up all worldly possessions.

*Free soup for dinner. What more needs be said?

*Hot college chicks are always trying to help out the homeless. I could see myself, as a homeless drunken bum, saying things like "I think, for you, i could give up alcohol and drugs, get a job, and be happy" then I'd take 50 bucks from the bitch's purse and buy a decent bottle of wine to celebrate my crushing of someone's innocence and belief in the intrinsic good of man. It's really kind of a white wine event, I think.

*In case of a zombie outbreak or nuclear war, the homeless are perfectly positioned to live in the ensuing post-apocalyptic environment. Eat that, yuppie-soon-to-starve-to-death scum!

*Any time is a good time to stab someone!

Well, as you can see, I put a TON of thought into this possible life. I believe it's a tolerable sort of existence--definitely preferable to my current position. Now, what could my bum-name be...

--HK_Newbie

And yes, I probably will be seeing "Grindhouse" this weekend.

HK_Newbie b-day extravaganza!

2007-05-01T10:49:00.000-04:00

In honor of my 25 years of continued existence, I decided to go out for a night on the town. After work, I went home, threw a hoodie over my button-up work shirt and a pair of heavy boots in place of my calf-skin somethingorothers (very expensive, but i liked the idea of wearing calf-skin on my feet. eat that, vegetarian and animal rights activists!) and MAC'd 200 bucks from the nearest ATM. Of course, every homeless person in the city picked that moment to hang out around that specific ATM, but I was able to counter their pleas with "I don't speak the english!" and "It's my birthday bitches, this is MY booze money! not yours!" They seemed to accept the latter excuse.

I started out at one of my favorite bars, north 3rd, shortened to n3rd (I like it for obvious reasons) and had a few Duvels and vodka shots. I alerted the rather cute bar-tender of my birthday wishes (complete and total dissassociation) and she was more than happy to oblige. I talked to some older dude about Thomas Pynchon, different types of probability distributions, frame dragging, and video games (i always seem to meet up with weird people who feel compelled to tell me their fucked-up life stories--this one was less fucked than most). Old-dude bought me another shot, and together we went to the standard tap where the drinking continued...

This is where things start getting blurry: at some point, old-dude took his leave, I was drinking by myself at some hole-in-the-wall bar, I danced (terribly) with a bar-tender to the dulcet tones of the hideously old Mick Jagger (who is probably a flesh-eating ghoul), and i ended up walking out of the bar around 3am with a shot-glass in each hand.

I assume the shot-glasses were for my protection in case someone decided to jump me. I would probably throw them at my attacker as a distraction (cause it sure as hell wouldn't actually hit them) and try running to my apartment. Fortunately, I made it home without incident and woke up about an hour after I was supposed to be at work.

Operation B-Day: Mission Success!

--HK_Newbie

Mario, What the hell happened to you?

2007-04-25T17:12:00.000-04:00

In honor of my new love-affair (Super Paper Mario), I'd like to post my favorite Mario/Street Fighter cross-over.

For Great Justice!

--HK_Newbie

What is it you DO?

2007-04-23T16:53:00.000-04:00

Occasionally, someone at a bar or party will ask me what it is, exactly, I do. Usually, I'll mutter under my breath for a minute and then make up something like "Ninja Assassin" or "Hot-Rich-Lady-Manslave". People don't believe me.

Today though, I found something that sums up (in a lesser extent) some of the day-to-day absurdity I have to deal with. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you: PROJECT DESM

Also, this past Sunday, some dude walking his miniature poodle was mugged at gunpoint in the street under my bedroom window. I didn't know anything about it until all the police cars showed up and I saw the poodle (which i thought was an albino rat at first) barking at the prone form of the severely beaten dude in the middle of the street. The whole thing took about 3 minutes, police response was fast, and the guy is going to make a full recovery, but it's starting to make me think about my choice in living arrangements. That, or this is a strong lesson on NOT to take a miniature poodle for walks in a semi-dangerous section of town (which should be fairly obvious from the get-go really...)

--HK_Newbie

(This actually happened about a month or so ago, I just now got around to writing about it)

I have a debilitating disease

2007-04-11T21:05:00.000-04:00

No, no, no, no, not Asberger's--though some would claim differently. I have strep throat. My damn uvula is hanging, quite literally, into my throat and choking me every 5 seconds; each of my tonsils are roughly the size of my fist; and I keep on coughing (or depending on how much I drank that night, vomiting) up blood. Trust me, this is not fun.

But I have found a silver lining. People stay the fuck away from kids with strep. I begin my conversations with: "Hi! I'm Newbie. I have strep-throat!"
Without fail, the individual backs away from me and quickly spits out whatever issue they're having (because, of course, they wouldn't be talking to me unless something was wrong, right?).

I also went on an interview for a new job today and went berserk on the HR lady cause her initial offer wasn't high enough. Don't I feel like a cool-guy?

Answer: no, not really.

Oh, by the way, this is possibly the sexiest picture EVER:

Oh, before I forget, since RE4 is coming out for the Wii (which i love, BTW, i just finished Zelda) I should post this.

How NOT to play RE2:

--HK_Newbie

Oh, you crazy co-workers

2007-03-28T19:00:00.000-04:00

So, I do IT-related work, right? Occasionally, I have to deal with people who, far back into their past, might have brushed up against a punch card on their way to a high-powered meeting determining the fate of nations, and now consider this (relatively) ancient experience a good reason to make absurd statements regarding the nature of modern software, hardware, wireless systems, coffee makers, etc.

On almost every instance, the person in question has not just been wrong, they have been so very, painfully wrong, that their assumptive wrongness has actually created new, tangible problems in whatever system they felt the need to comment upon. Also, they seem to enjoy CC'ing their pronouncements to random people in the global corporate address book. This makes my inevitable replies that much more enjoyable.

Here's the email the moron in question sent to one of my co-workers responsible for maintaining a calendar I created in the public folders on MS exchange:

"(Poor lady who has to deal with me),

This folder is misplaced. All Public Folders is set up to contain only mail and post items, not calendars. Thus, I cannot open this calendar alongside my other calendars. And, after clicking on the link you provided, there is no way to add the Outlook calendar to Internet Explorer's favorites. The obvious solution is to get with whoever administers the public folders and arrange to publish calendar items as well as mail and post items in All Public Folders (and all of the other folders to which the Hanford Schedule Calendar is subordinate). If this can be done, we would all be able to view and event print this calendar.

Regards,

(Asshole who doesn't know what he's talking about)

+1 (703) 000-0000"

Interesting side-note; this douchebag feels the need to insert a +1 in front of every phone number in every scenario (when referencing them in proposals, or technical manuals, or websites). I posited that people other than himself may indeed be used to the Ma Bell style of making fucking phone calls, and are perfectly capable of dialing a "1" if the number isn't in their fucking area. It's not exactly a new concept, is it? But I digress...

Being the bright fellow that I am, I immediately realized that this was a personal attack against my own l337 admining skillz. Since he felt the need to CC about a dozen other people besides the poor lady who was the original recipient, I decided to take my time and pen the perfect reply. Before sending it, though, I sent this email to my cadre of fellow nerds to garner some editing assistance.

"I’m gonna assume Mr. Asshole's comments are directed toward me in an antagonistic manner. Here is the response I’m considering sending:

“Asshole,
Nice try, but no.
Your copious knowledge of Exchange and the nuances of the mystical realm of public folders is truly astonishing. I am humbled by your sage yet stern advice. Would that they made any sort of sense beyond the knee-jerk reaction of a person used to spitting out words that, on first glance appear to make a certain sort of sense, but on closer inspection are realized to be utter dross, how useful they could have been!

Here’s the real problem, as opposed to the imaginary, non-existent problem: You didn’t have permission to view the calendar.

Here’s the real solution, as opposed to the unhelpful and authoritarian-sounding solution: I added you.

Huzzah and other such niceties!

Cheers,
--HK_Newbie”

Needless to say, it was widely regarded as genius and approved to be sent right away. I copied, I pasted, I CC'd the same people that the knowledge-less asshole did in his email, and stuck his name in the "To:" field. Then I hit send.

This was about 4 days ago, and I haven't heard back from either him or the others I copied. All-in-All, I'd say it was a successful and entirely professional response.

--HK_Newbie

Some Points of Interest

2007-03-20T09:29:00.000-04:00

Alright, Assholes*. Let's get a few things straight:

1. Deleting items from your "My Documents" folder will not make your computer run faster. Nor will deleting items from your desktop. Nor in the root of your fucking filesystem (that, in fact, has a tendency to make your computer not work at all). Stop doing it. I don't know who began this myth, but I know who perpetuates it, and I hate them.

2. My name is not Brian. I don't know where you got that idea, but please, look at my badge hanging around my chest. In big black friendly letters you will see the proper noun "RYAN". I'll give you a few guesses as to whose name that is.

3. The majority of my day will be spent doing important things; like looking at digg or fark or listening to music or reading papers which will increase my knowledge of things that interest me. Coincidentally, the things that interest me will usually result in Good Things Happening To You (like me building a clean room next to the server room for Hard Disk recovery or learning De Bruijin sequences to brute force the combination lock of your car when you forget your keys). Do yourself a favor and stop asking me to move tables or lift heavy boxes when it looks like "All i'm doing is reading a website and taking notes in my big black book" (direct quote).

4. If we're at a bar, and you start making out with me, expect me to kiss back. If you then decide you're done, please politely pull back and indicate as such; Do not just punch me in the chest and tell me to "get the fuck off". Because I will get off, and go far away (i.e. the next bar). When you find me 10 minutes later and repeat the same kiss/flip out scenario, I will determine that my St. Patty's Day is officially over and ride the metro home.

*The assholes in question include, but are not limited to, cow-orkers, chicks-in-bars, and random executive-type people on the street.

--HK_Newbie
(BTW, I'm digging quite a few bands now: "Explosions in the Sky", "And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of The Dead", "The Notwist", and "Ms. Jones Soda". Go forth and download.)

300 makes me sleepy

2007-03-13T08:46:00.000-04:00

Quote "BOOOOOoRRRRRRIIIIIIIING!!!!!!"

So, How DOES one turn an excellent opportunity for violence and mayhem on a massive scale into an exercise in coma-inducing, slow-motion, poorly-acted, and surprisingly homo-erotic cinema?

Easy, children! You just slow everything down to a bloody crawl and each 2 minute fight scene turns into a 20 minute artsy-fartsy snooze-fest. Then you attempt to introduce a pseudo-political backstory which is performed at about the same pace as the fighting and with the same verisimilitude.

Sigh...I really had high hopes for this movie too. The trailer was freaking entertaining: what with the hot chick dancing, and the sword-arm fat guy, and the heads rolling, and the screaming "THIS IS SPARTA!!!"

The hot chick dancing ended up being kind of stupid (though she did have great tits, a gorgeous body, and a beautiful face; she did not have NEARLY enough screen time to make it worthwhile, and her dancing looked like she was spasming from severe epileptic episodes). Sword-arm fat guy had all of one minute of screen time, but his potential awesomeness was through the freaking roof. Seriously, they should have a spin off movie (with no slo-mo sequences PLEASE!) where all he does is walk around Greece slicing off heads with his sword arms and drinking wine by the barrel. In the end, he gets with hot dancing chick and they give birth to a litter hot dancing chicks with congenital sword-arms. I'm practically salivating in (morbid and disturbing) sexually aroused glee.

By the way, the dude with the spear...his wife...while hot, has what I've heard called "national geographic nipples." That is, if she's not careful, she could inadvertently poke eyes out with her super-extendo-nips. Ewwwwwww. Gross.

--HK_Newbie

Story of my life

2007-03-06T09:17:00.000-05:00

Before my head explodes from this raging hang-over I have this fine, frigid morning, I'd like to post something I feel appropriately summarizes my recent female-related experiences:

(HINT: Click on the picture so you can read the text!)
And a list of the most commonly used excuses when I ask any remotely attractive chick out (is there some secret forum for excuses women use when they don't want to think of something even slightly believable--Jane, fill me in please):

"I'm doing my laundry tonight. And the next night. And the next."

"I have a...hair...appointment" (There's usually a minute-long pause between each ellipses. That's a full minute of disgust directed my way, baby! But hey, it's eye contact!)

"My restraining order against you hasn't expired yet" (Typically followed by a routine pepper-spraying. Actually, I'm slowly becoming immune to the typical capiscum solution, so you (this is a generic "you" referencing the entire female gender) might want to consider switching pepper-spray types every so often)

Ah, yes. I'm a player.

--HK_Newbie

Urinals Hate Me

2007-03-02T11:10:00.000-05:00

Actually, The urinals posted above are far better in design than the ones I'm referring to (the funnel shape is a genius fucking idea, why don't more public bathrooms have this model?). But I can't stand the idea of people looking at me while I do my "business", so this picture is quite accurate in portraying the level of discomfort I feel when, after I finish a good pee, I look down at my pant legs and see hundreds of atomized droplets of urine clinging to my spill-proof khakis like so many mountain climbers on a sheer cliff-face (Mental note: come up with better metaphors in the future).

The problem lies in the design of those ubiquitous white enameled urinals that we've grown so familiar with: they basically require one to piss onto a flat surface from just scant inches away from the point of origination, so to speak. If the muzzle velocity of the stream exiting the urethra exceeds a certain pressure, then there's a significant amount of splash-back. The majority of this so-called splash-back ends up, as previously mentioned, coating the legs of my khakis a very recognizable shade of yellow dots. The only way to eliminate this possibility is to reduce the exiting stream to a pressure below (>) the critical point where splash back is inevitable. I believe this a coefficient of the surface tension of urine; a value I do not feel like determining for obvious reasons. Suffice it to say that the desired pressure for minimizing embarrassing splash-back accidents is somewhere between not actually peeing and accidentally pissing on your shoes.

In other words, just use the fucking toilet.

--HK_Newbie

Question: How Messed up are the Japanese?

2007-03-01T11:30:00.000-05:00

Answer: VERY

Don't even ask me how I found this...some knowledge can only be gained at the cost of some of one's sanity.

--HK_Newbie

The greatest invention ever

2007-02-28T12:59:00.001-05:00

Gaze in wonder children, upon one of the greatest inventions ever to come down our way since , well, since the vasectomy (but far less invasive).

THE SPRAY ON CONDOM!!!

Is it not beautiful? This little doo-dad actually VULCANIZES your baby-makin'-device with a latex spray and pretty much eliminates any chances for reproduction or disease-transference.

Sure, you could just bust out a regular, old, boring condom; tear the packaging in the heat of the moment; figure out which side has the lube and which side doesn't and then take it off anyway because the damn thing isn't large enough for your MASSIVE MEMBER (I have this problem all the time) or you could be a total, technologically-savvy bad-ass and stuff your junk into what amounts to a portable shrink-wrapping device with racing decals and refillable cartridges. It's basically one-size-fits-all too, so you're guaranteed a perfect fit each time.

Recommended ages are 18 to 40 (Cause old person sex is gross and hopefully doesn't exist).

Penis.

--HK_Newbie

Praise the lord, Pass the ammo

2007-02-26T09:15:00.000-05:00

I drove to Alabama a few days ago. I left around midnight, and drove for 14 FUCKING hours straight through the most god-forsaken wasteland imaginable (on the eastern and central timezones, that is) only to arrive in a terrifying land of gigantic phallic objects reaching toward the sky.

Kids, It's not all rocket ships either. It seemed like around every curve, there was a gigantic cross-like structure (i say cross-like because to make a cross so insanely large that its original signifying purpose-- hanging people-- becomes impossible, it then enters the realm of caricature and "likeness". It becomes absurd, and possibly indicative of some personal shortcoming of the people or peoples who originally requisitioned its construction--that is to say, similar to those guys with a massive spoiler on their mom's Honda, these people have small penises. Even the women.

Especially the women.

My case in point:

And example number the second:

It was not all bad, though. I did have some fun, albeit drunken fun, and pretty much everything is fun when one is drunk. We went to a strip joint, where I learned that strippers' breasts must have little pastie thingies covering the nipples, cause they (the nipples) are an insult to His heavenly sight.

It is, however, alright for the strippers to touch you in all sorts of wonderful places and for you to touch them back--SO LONG AS YOU ARE IN A ROOM WITH A CURTAIN. 'cause, you know, God can't see what happens behind closed curtains.

The most terrifying thing of all: They know when I sleep.

--HK_Newbie

muahahaha...

2007-02-12T02:56:00.000-05:00

since i now have access, here is the entry i wanted to post!

still the same old jane...
how? because this entry is about poop.

but not just any ordinary poop entry. it's the "jane VS salt water flush" entry.

so, this is what happened. i've not been pooping very well lately. which is anxiety producing to me because i feel bloated!!! and when i compare myself to ryan, who poops pretty much at the same time every day, i feel like a freak!

well, my uncle has this herbal laxative tea (p.s. i moved into my uncle's house) so i tried that. nothing. not even a GI cramp.

and then i was all gassy for a day. still nothing! IT WAS NOT THE ONIONS, RYAN. or the brocolli for that matter.

so i was reading this thing about salt water flushes. and i was completely skeptical about it. apparently, what it does is literally flush out your system. by adding salt to the water you are trying to match the specific gravity of blood (which i know all about!). since it's as dense as your blood, i guess it sort of pushes everything in your guts out. PSH, who the hell drinks salt water if they can help it? gross. everybody knows it makes you crazy!

however, curiousity killed the cat this morning. since i had a free day (TO STUDY FOR MY PHARMACOLGY EXAM) and i spent almost an hour and a half of it waiting for poop- i tried everything to move my bowels- i was rubbing my tummy, doing yogic breaths, sitting on the toilet with a chuck palahnuik book...i decided what the hell. let's see how it goes.

so i went downstairs, filled up a cup with water, put TWO TEASPOONS of salt in it (could not find non-iodized sea salt...for sure, i will pay for not following the recipe) and downed it in 10 gulps (i was counting). it was HORRIBLE.

my aunt was still home so i had to pretend i was feeling ohkay because i didn't want to explain myself. after she left, i had to lay down because i was nauseas and my head felt silly. thank goodness she left soon after i gulped the salt water.

i felt better after awhile and there was some movement in my tummy so i decided to do the palahnuik-toilet thing again and then take a shower.

THERE WILL BE TOO MUCH INFORMATION BEYOND THIS POINT.

so i pooped and it was ohkay...barely satisfactory. seriously, i am getting no bulk in my poop. and it doesn't make sense because i've been eating as i normally do. so anyway...

i got in the shower and it feels great! i wanted to stay there forever. but then i started to feel a pressure in my bowels again. damnit! i stopped my shower and pooped!

then i got back in the shower because it was nice.

i finished showering and got dressed. heated up some bread and got some OJ for breakfast. and sat down to study.

BUT THEN I FELT LIKE POOPING AGAIN. and AGAIN. and AGAIN. HOLY CRAP!

only it's not poop...it's like i'm shooting brown water out of my butt!! but it's not diarrhea...i would tell you it was diarrhea if it was...but it wasn't. it was just...stuff.

sometimes i'd only get halfway back to my room before turning around. and now, hopefully, i am done.

it's not really unpleasant because it's not like burny diarrhea or like hard logs of poop...it's just weird because it is serious liquid. thank goodness for the filipino tabo (ta-bo: make sure to make a short sound with the bo...it's the characteristic little hand bucket thing that all filipinos have in their bathroom.) i would say it was just like vomiting out of your butt, which i have to report is not as bad as vomiting out of your mouth. well, no let me clarify that- vomiting out of your mouth is similar to having diarrhea but if you've ever projectile vomited water, it's just like salt water flushing your system. now, i don't know how many of you will understand the concept of projectile vomiting water (which i have also experienced) but that's what it feels like. basically, you don't feel burning and you don't tear up and it doesn't leave any trauma to the evacuating organ (be it your mouth or your butthole).

i am not skeptical of the salt water flush anymore. however, i do not recommend this to you, my friends. there's no reason to try it. i have experienced it for you. if you have any questions, just ask me. i'll tell you about it. if you really want to experience it, make sure to do it BEFORE you eat or drink anything and make sure you have at least 3 hours free. heh, all the things i read about it said to have half an hour to an hour free...yeah right!

Jane: 0
SaltWaterFlush: 1

also, since i think it might be helpful to some people (read: the guys) who read this blog: How to Fight With a Woman i follow this girl's LJ and she's usually really cool. i guess i have a crush on her.

we need to revive the revolution, people.

-calamityJANE

A day of work: Newbie Style

2007-01-18T18:11:00.000-05:00

My days at work are getting progressively weirder and more BOFH-like as the hours pass.

An example:
9am

Coworker: Hey, Newbie, good morning! Could you show me how to log-in to the terminal server again please?

Me: Sure, I'll be right over. ::whistles as I walk to my office::

Noon

Slightly-Annoying-but-still-likeable-coworker: Ummm, Mr. Newbie, my popcap games stopped working, and my bonzai buddy won't start up. Could you make them work please?

Me: Allow me to calmly but with a slight derogatory edge explain to you why you should not be permitted to touch the keyboard let alone post changes to the finance database.

2pm

Completely-annoying-and-utterly-useless-cow-worker: Hey IT-guy, my home computer is acting up. Could you take time out of your post-work binge schedule and come to my home (which smells of cat urine) to vainly attempt to fix an early 90's gateway clunker so virus-ridden and malware-infested that other proximate machines absorb rootkits through actual-honest-to-goodness osmosis.

Me: ::removes cable tester/laser cutter from utility belt and commits hara-kiri:: Seppuku is the only answer. ::Dies::

As you can see, my day continually goes on a downward spiral until about 7pm, when everyone leaves and I can actually hit the gym (in-house), shower, and get some work done. Around 9 or 10, I am free to socialize with Enrique and Monique (the cleaning people) for a few minutes, say goodbye to the security guard, and beat a straight path to the closest bar. Rinse. Repeat.

At least I'll always have per diem.

--HK_Newbie

RIP

2006-12-23T16:22:00.000-05:00

Poor little red has seen better days. Always be careful of Lexus cars that randomly stop on the other side of an intersection causing a chain reaction of stops.

Aikido, bitches!

2006-12-19T17:40:00.000-05:00

He gets with the chick. Obviously.

Go Weng-Weng!

--HK_Newbie

Where Is Doc

2006-11-29T21:08:00.000-05:00

Philly Marathon: I was hung over and I forgot breakfast. I blame my roommate for making me go out that previous evening.

Physical location-wise, I'm not anywhere that i can talk with anyone before my head exploding like that scene in "Total Recall"; I've been writing, working out, and drinking alot (there's not much else to do) and honestly it's kinda fun. Later all!

Who rocks the body that rocks the house that...rocks..the...oh, fuck it.

2006-10-31T12:53:00.000-05:00

Hiya Squibbs!

I recently went on a very long run in the DC area. While on this very long run I saw: many beautiful women in tight-fitting synthetics (a few of whom i followed closely behind until they gave me the usual "go tither" stare), two old men keel over and possibly die from heart attacks, and all the typical DC stuff (wash. monument, white house, capitol building, etc). I also rode the freaking awesome public transport system of the Washington/Balmtimore area known as the Metro. Let me tell you kids, this highly-engineered and thoroughly studied (not to mention complex, fast, and efficient) is the model of excellence that EVERY fucking transportation system in the world should be built upon. I rode the metro on every line, every stop; I wandered about each station; ate off the immaculate floors (I did recieve a few stares from that); all for the low, low price of about 6 dollars (which is basically all I could afford these days).

Oh. I kicked ass too:

--HK_Newbie

A recent adventure

2006-10-27T10:17:00.000-04:00

So, let me tell you about something that recently happened to me, kids.

I went to six flags. Without GKING.

That's right, I did the unthinkable, and made the journey up the jersey turnpike (which sucks, by the way. Firstly, people in jersey can't drive to save their lives. Throw in a high-speed bypass and fog...well, i'm certain you can imagine the sorts of resulting carnage that ensued) to Jackson, paid my way through the gates (with a friend and his friends), and began a FUCKING COLD trip through the park--ALL WITHOUT GKING. Needless to say, it was replete with your typical park-attending morons: wannabe mobsters, NYC trash, Pennsylvania hick trash, hobos who've never left the park, and worst of all, the psychos who actually work there. I've probably said this before, but the people who actually work at the six flags in jersey must all be drama-school drop outs. They wander aimlessly around the park, randomly break out into histrionic "look, I'm acting!" skits with each other (and then clap for themselves! That's like a comedian laughing at his own fucking joke!), and inefficiently perform the rest of their park-related duties. I hate them with the white hot intensity of a million burning suns, to borrow a phrase.

Other than the freezing cold, brain-dead mobs, and 3.5 total rides, it was quite alot of fun. You know why? Beer. Yes, we all went into the closest bar, bought large amounts of dos equis and poured it into coke containers. By god, when it comes to sneaking around illicit substances, that's when human ingenuity rears its ugly, drunken head.

The beer acted as a sort of time dilation device. The observers' (i.e. myself and my friends-hereby known as "z") percieved movement over time (hereby refered to as "a/x") as being faster (<) than the other, non-drunken observers (hereby refered to as "q"). That, my friends, is known as Doc's theory of alcohol-induced time-dilation relativity. Trust me, it makes more sense when in similar circumstances as I was that night.

Unfortunately, I made the horrendous mistake of trying to scare my buddy's girlfriend during our walk through the "HAUNTED TRAIL OF SPOOKY DOOM"--as one of the douchebag employees told us while waving his hands around in what he assumed would be a dramatically impressive guesture, but really just looked as though he had temporarily lost all fine motor functions. A vampire who had lost all fine motor functions. An obese vampire who had lost all fine motor functions.

It was stupid, is what i'm trying to say.

Anyhow, I hid behind a barrel in the dark, jumped out, terrified my buddy and his girl and (much to my surprise) almost lost consciousness as the girlfriend wrapped her left hand around my neck and squeezed. I have never been so scared in my life. I have never encountered such a vise-like deathgrip in my life either. I still have a vaugly hand-shaped bruise around my neck, and it's been over a week.

Lesson learned: women are scary!

--HK_Newbie

(next time gking, i swear. But it has to be like this:
::phone rings::
Newbie: "Hello?"
Gking: "six flags, bitch. now."
Newbie: "Okay!"

(That's opposed to this)
::phone rings::
Newbie: "Hello?"
Gking: "let's schedule a six flags trip for sometime in the distant future with a bunch of people!"
Newbie: "Sure!"
::Hell freezes over::

Guess Who?

2006-10-04T19:55:00.000-04:00

insomnia's new toy...

2006-10-04T03:28:00.000-04:00

so i have a midterm in about 6 hours which i feel fairly prepared for though i don't know i can't seem to make myself care which is bad but oh well.

i found a new toy to play with on the internet!!

Devon Aoki 63%, M. Shadows 61%, Drew Fuller 58%, Alan Tam 58%, Natalie Imbruglia 56%, Vladimir Nabokov 54%, Samuel Fucking-Jackson 52%, Gillian Anderson 52%

Emmanuelle Beart 78%, Kurt Tucholsky 75%, Natalie Merchant 74%, Calista Flockhart 74%, Rupert Evertt 68%, Ethan Hawke 67%, Frankie Muniz 66%, Bridget Moynahan 66%

Jared Padalecki 73%, Aki Hakala 72%, Rod Stewart 72%, Fairuza Balk 71%, Halle Berry 70%, MATT STONE 68%, Leonardo DiCaprio 66%, Sylvester Stalone 62%...i guess i look manly...

Carson Daly 71%, Kim Hee-Sun 63%, Apolo Anton Ohno 63%, Caprice Bourret 62%, Josie Maran 62%, Condoleeza Rice 61%, Val Kilmer 60%, Patrick Swayze 59%

Oh and in case you picked up on the fact that Doc's was a round 2 (hence the name "Doc's Look-Alikes 2) here's the first set of Doc Look-Alikes:

And I prefer these look-alikes:

HAHAHA...

Whew. Well, this has been fun. The other 4MR contributors should do this too! I'm curious to see which celebrity is white and durrrty enough to look like Consultant.

4 more hours...i give up on sleep. time for a shower.

-CalamityJane

After seeing something like this...

2006-09-30T17:31:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure my life has meaning anymore.

-RaiNny

Song about me!!!!!

2006-09-26T22:30:00.000-04:00

This song is all about my life and I love it!!

- Natedawg / Consultant

HK_Newbie's Grandmammy

2006-09-22T19:26:00.000-04:00

While out here in Washington state (more on this later), i've had the opportunity to visit family. For those of you who know none of my family-- or have only met the few of them in Pa-- you're about to learn much about my kin: mainly that they're gun toting psychos with a firm grasp of the redneck vernacular.

Yes. That's my granny in a wheelchair and cammo shooting an MP40 (though is it? Perhaps it's a downgraded model?). A few questions might come to mind. Namely, why give a senile old woman a fully automatic firearm and why in god's name would anyone-- especially someone who obviously lives square in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere and would be better off with some sort of long-range rifle for the impending commie-bastard invasion-- even OWN a military SMG?! The answer, my friends, for both questions is quite simple: because it's unbearably COOL (she really should've been wearing a bad-ass set of shades too. That would complete the geriatric assasin look she so obviously favors).

--HK_Newbie

HK_Newbie Goes Clubbin', skydiving, and bullet dodging

2006-09-13T23:13:00.000-04:00

Hello there!

I realize it's been a while since my last post, so allow me to bring everyone up to speed on the telemundo special that is Newbie's attempt at an interesting life.

1. The Dangers of Being Accountable
Due to my forcibly enhanced status as Chief Digital Janitor for a failed coup de'tat in New Mexico, I still have Account Reps from different ISP's and IT consultancy firms calling my cell, knocking on my door (while wearing gold chains and holstered sidearms), and generally trying to assasinate my ass for, in their words, "making promises and failing to keep them". BULLSHIT BITCHES!!! There's only a few lucky ladies in the world who can actually make that claim, and none of them is named "Nancy from AT&T".

Trust me, I feel your pain. You did drag miles of fibre optic cable out into the middle of nowhere cause I thought it would be "neat" to have an OC12 circuit between sites. However, I never signed any contract, or gave any verbal go ahead to do such a thing. I just mentioned how FUCKING COOL it would be. If I got on a tangent about robotic ninja sushi chefs, would you open a restaraunt based on that premise too? Then proceed to sue me if it failed? (though i'm sure it would NOT fail. robot+ninja+sushi=always a winning combo!)

It's a sad sad world when people think HK_Newbie knows what he's talking about.

2. One of many clubbing experiences
Those who know me well enough know of my sojourns down to Baltimore's inner harbor in order to indulge in the carnal delights of the midnight till 1 crowd (or as I call it, the easy bootie hour). And it was a time for the simple acquisition of so-called "bootie". Unfortunately, the particular club/bar I went to was an "18 to enter, 21 to drink" establishment. Oh god! Am I actually that old?! These kids looked like they just stepped out of a middle school pep rally.

What was my solution to this apparent moral dillema? Many, many shots. Gradually the dillema went away on its own. Thank god for alcohol induced moral relativism.

I don't even remember this image, but it took place sometime after I safely arrived at my buddy's apartment. YAY for designated drivers! (Oh, and sober even, I can't make an appropriate "West-side" hand symbol without using both hands to intertwine the middle finger around the...finger between the pinky and the middle...what the fuck IS that finger called anyhow? I don't think I even use it!)

3. Skydiving
I went skydiving. I loved it. The people who jumped 15 minutes later...they didn't like it quite so much.

4. Bullet-dodging in Philly
Ummm...this is a story I may or may not tell. Only time will tell.

--HK_Newbie

Review of The Deftones "Hole In The Earth".

2006-08-19T22:22:00.000-04:00

The first single off of the new Deftones album (Saturday Night Wrist), entitled "Hole In The Earth", is a plush landscape of sonic interplay. According to frontman Chino Moreno, the song addresses the fissure that formed between himself and his bandmates during his time spent with side-project Team Sleep. In it he describes his agoraphobic tendencies, how he wanted to just dig a hole and disappear from the world around him ("...I hate all of my friends...They are the terror outside..."). Luckily for us, the chasm appears to have been therapeutic and the ambiance of the track gives an air of resolve and hopefulness. Simply put, the band has never sounded as cohesive as they do here. Musically, "Hole In The Earth"'s spacey guitars and driving rhythm is reminiscent of the more uptempo offerings of Failure and 30 Seconds To Mars or their own tracks "Good Morning Beautiful" and "Feiticeira". As usual, Chino's vocal delivery is clearly influenced by his own auditory champions, Robert Smith (The Cure) and Stephen Morissey (The Smiths), with his soft-hearted swagger and his vibrant use of wails and moans. "Hole In The Earth" is a top-notch debut for The Deftones' upcoming opus and will easily garner them as much success, if not more, as "Change (In The House Of Flies)" and "Minerva" did. If this first taste is anything to go by, "Saturday Night Wrist" will be another must have for any appreciative of intelligent and aggressive music.

(5/5)

"Saturday Night Wrist" is due out on Halloween through Maverick Records.

Deftones' MySpace

-RaiNny

actually...

2006-08-15T15:28:00.000-04:00

I LOVE CROCS!!

To Rainny:

Super Secret Video of Calamity in the Philippines!!!

2006-08-15T15:06:00.000-04:00

I've just uncovered this super secret video of JANE from her sexcapade in her island country from last Summer.

Witness her Crocodile Tears!

Shortly after, she boned the large black man and Magneto came over and tore down some bridges and shit.

-RaiNny

poll time!!!

2006-08-14T01:12:00.000-04:00

well, it's THAT time...POLL TIME!!!

poll question: Have you ever had to use a plunger before?

--------------

So last night, guess what! I used a plunger for the first time in my 20+ years of using a toilet. This is how it happened:

First I have to inform all of you that it IS normal for a female NOT to eliminate bowels everyday. I thought I was some freak for the longest time...though I still think that normal people should poo everyday...I am comforted by the fact that my professor believed this to be true and right enough to say this to a class of 64 AND the 53 females (minus me) agreed!!! Then she went on to make fun of the 10 men in the class who were all grossed out. What a relief!

So I went to take my every-two-days-poo last night (and "haha!" to those of you who were talking to me online last night because I WAS ALSO ON THE TOILET...i don't think i'm going to do that ever again though...just trying it out) and I guess I clogged the toilet. I have never done that EVER and I have to say that I didn't think THIS would be the bowel that would do it.

I tried to stay calm. The roommate was asleep. I brushed my teeth and washed my face before tackling this new situation.

I flushed the toilet again.

Thankfully the tank only holds enough to fill the bowl and not overflow. So now I've got water, bowels and toilet paper floating around. Boy, this was a certifiable disaster. Eventually, it went down a little. So I decided to take a bucket and just throw water into the toilet...this works when I'm cleaning the toilet and I want to scrub the bowl with a very low water level.

This didn't work.

So guess what I did next. I got a plastic bag...ohkay, TWO plastic bags and put my hand in it and grabbed some toilet paper that was floating in the water. And then I flushed again. Still no luck and now I had to go outside and put this in the garbage on the curb. Good thing it was garbage day today.

While I contemplated what to do next, I checked out my poo!! It might come as a surprise to you but I've never really looked at my bowels as closely as I did last night. There were beans in it!!! I didn't think it would be so easy to distinguish!! Are you as excited as I am right now?

Well, now we're at the part when I realized I'm going to have to use a plunger. So first, I googled "how to use a plunger" so I would know what to expect. And then I took the plunger out of the closet and there you have it...I cleared the toilet!! And I realized I'm pretty damn good at that. I'm pretty proud of myself.

It was quite an adventure and I'm glad that 4MR is around to have heard about it. May this go down in 4MR history as THE NIGHT THAT CALAMITY JANE LEARNED TO USE A PLUNGER!!!!

-calamityJane

Newbie goes Drinking

2006-08-09T10:22:00.000-04:00

"How have you been spending your time, Newbie?" I was recently asked by a viscous, blood-sucking succubus I used to date. Her apparent show of concern was like a bright ray of light, cutting through the overcast sky and illuminating the darkest corners of my soul. Before I replied, she quipped "I'm surprised you haven't killed yourself yet!"

"Ah, that's more like it" I thought to myself; a direct attempt at destroying me. Much more understandable than the pseudo concern.
"No, I was going to save that pleasure for you. Bitch."

And so I went drinking.

Unsurprisingly, random stuff happened during the course of that night and following day. I vaguely remember talking to people and dancing with people during the night, but to be honest, it was too much of a blur to recall accurately. So instead, I'll detail what I like to call: "My Wegmans Trip From Hell".

I was staring at some of the fresh-made, gourmet hoagies that Wegmans (or weggies, as I affectionately put it) is known for when I realized someone was laughing at me. Not just any sort of laughter, but malicious, cruel, and hateful laughter. I turned around and found this strange looking middle-aged lady pointing at me and laughing. She stopped for a brief second when I looked at her, but quickly resumed the pointing and laughing. I did a quick inventory of potentially laugh-at-able things; fly, up; face, intact (relatively); no toilet paper or vomit on my person; WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS BITCH LAUGHING AT?

I determined that she was probably going to reveal her true form shortly (everyone knows that the villain's lengthy laughter immediately precedes some drastic metamorphosis usually involving spikey appendages and pointy tails)and I should probably bug the hell out of there before she devoured me whole.

Then I met another bitch at the checkout counter. She mumbled something to me as she took my payment and then looked at me like I had a third eye. "WELL?!" She practically screamed, "Are you going upstairs or leaving?!"

"Ummmmm...upstairs?" I guessed.

"Good." She sheathed her combat knife and handed me my change.

Lesson learned: Women are TERRIFYING

An Investigative Report: Drunken Crazies

2006-07-29T20:20:00.000-04:00

Apparently "International Antagonize Newbie Day" started around 12:01 this very fine morning in Finnigan's wake and continued in a strange series of events involving no less than 5 individuals scattered from Philadelphia to New Jersey. Shall I relate?

Yes. I shall.

Starting at the bar, I watched as a comrade of mine was cruelly bitten by Hagar the Horrible's wife...I forget the bitch's name, but rest assured, it was indeed her.

I was observing this, as I usually do, from my familiar perspective holding up my side of the bar. Then Hagar's wife came over to me, shouted in ancient Nordic, pointed at my Shaun of the Dead t-shirt, and sucker punched me in the face. I did not enjoy this, neither did the bouncer standing nearby, but everyone else seemed amused (they were aware of "International Antagonize Newbie Day") so the punch to the face was laughed off as one of those "cute" things drunken women do. In my humble opinion, it was not one of those things. Flashing me from the elevator--THAT is one of those cute things that drunk chicks do (and did. It was part of some Antagonize Newbie technique that didn't so much antagonize me, as it did please me highly). Take some lessons from your friends Helga: flash more, punch less.

Actually, no. I think I'd rather be punched.

It's 12:35 sunday morning. I'm wasted. I don't even remember the name of the bar we went to, but there was jager a plenty. I'll post more once i've recovered. 'night all!

Why must I identify so closely with this?

2006-07-23T19:32:00.000-04:00

As some of you might already know, I am a loser. Not just any sort of run-of-the-mill loser-- living in his parent's basement (moved out), virginity-intact (gone, never coming back), terrified-of-women (only certain one's. The one's that show interest in me), hoarding ton's of porn on his hard drive (I delete it as soon as I..finish...with it)---no, I am totally unique in my particular flavor of geekliness. I call it Hermitoperfectionitus. Unfortunately, it shares ancillary symptoms with many other sorts of anti-social maladies. Namely, I find shit like the following funny:

--hk_newbie
(found alot of them here)

More Photoshop Phun!!!

2006-07-08T16:18:00.000-04:00

There's some more Photoshop shenanigans going on over at Bullshido.net. This time it's an "Advice From Helio's Floating Head" thread. Here's my contribution. Where are your's you noobs?!?

-RaiNny

HK_Newbie's new friends

2006-07-01T15:50:00.000-04:00

So, I was walking down Girard last night (refreshing myself in the moonlight after a few pints of beer and cough syrup), just minding my own business when I was invited to come to a prom gathering by an old man with an open 40 in a paper bag and dreadlocks that seemed to move of their own volition. I believe he said something along the lines of "That way Lies the prom! Abandon all hope, mon!"

Seeing as how I never had the opportunity to go to my own prom at my old high-school (if I remember correctly, it had something to do with me being "a potentially dangerous psycho" which is total BS by my reckoning. I'm more of a sociopath than a psychotic.) I figured i'd take up the Virgil/Bob Marley amalgamation on his offer of living the missed days of my youth. What harm could it do? How much fun could I have in one night? Was I supposed to pick up my dry-cleaning today after four or tomorrow?

Sweet Buddha's Balls, what in the hell was I thinking?

I entered the gymnasium where the prom was being held and was greeted by the first of many, many, many AWESOME horrors.

I'm not being the least bit facetious; this lady tried to cut my head off with a scimatar. She was actually quite good with it too. Fortunately, all I had to do was shout "gomen!", throw a smoke bomb at her feet, and use invisibility-no-justsu to avoid her and further journey into a prom like no other.

A ghetto FABULOUS prom. With superheros, gansters (or ganstas, depending on where you stand), and the fatter, blacker version of the guy who played the Juggernaut in X3.

I soon found that INSIDE the gymnasium, despite its lack of scimitar weilding babes who want to separate my head from the rest of myself (there's actually quite of few of these ladies in the Philadelphia area. For some strange reason, they all want me dead. They must know me better than most), is FAR worse than outside the gymnasium. This cute couple glared at me menacingly for 5 minutes before merging into one and attempting to roll me over. I dodged their attack easily. The crowd of helpless nuns and crippled people behind me, however, did not...

Kind of like a kid trapped in some wonderful side-show full of crack-addicted freak killers, I wandered aimlessly, dodging bullets, knives, and other forms of weaponry in search of the Prom queen. Unfortunately for me, I found her.

At first I thought there was an earthquake or the building's structural integrity had somehow been compromised. Nope. It was just the prom queen taking her first ponderous dance steps of the evening. And there was NO ESCAPE. No matter where I stood in the gymnasium, there she was: RIGHT FUCKING IN FRONT OF ME-- breathing heavily, lifting elephantine legs and stomping them on the ground, crushing friend and foe alike. Never have I been so terrified in my entire life. I've fought hundred-armed krakens, defeated countless scores of invading zombie hordes. Hell, I've even hugged The Consultant and wasn't pierced by his perfectly chisled pectoral muscles. But I knew I was no match for THE PROM QUEEN. Luckily for me, I quickly spied an escape route.

I grabbed her hand, pledged my undying love, and together we soared through the roof toward freedom. Leaving behind certain crushing cellulite death.

Hella-hot Helicopter girl, where have you been my entire life? Our marraige date is scheduled for the next planetary alignment, on Oni peak, overlooking the sea of chaos. Everyone is invited. The bar will be open and the food will be plentiful.

--HK_Newbie

Photoshop Phun!!!

2006-06-29T10:54:00.000-04:00

There's an amusing little conversation going on over at Bullshido.net about how pro-wrestler Bill Goldberg studied Aikido in his early years, complete with some funny Photoshopped images. I whipped up a little contribution and you should too!

-RaiNny

Hickeys suck!

2006-06-23T08:30:00.000-04:00

Having a girl suck the life out of your neck may be fun in the moment. But my advice is to never get a hickey from a girl that bites. The end result is most painful. That is my neck in the photo courtesy of Sorjai's amazing SLR digicam.

- Natedawg

HK_Newbie Maintains a professional attitude at work. Part 1.

2006-06-22T13:23:00.000-04:00

No. Not really. But what I do maintain is an air of irreverence and geeky-annoyance that has been perfected over the years by my ilk (the IT crowd).

For your consideration:

Today we did what my work likes to call a "disaster preparedness plan". They don't really call it that--they use some asinine weaselwords instead, but this is what I call it because it actually makes sense. Basically, what it consists of is a role-playing event of disasterous proportions (think giant lizard attack), except without all the tennis ball throwing and cries of "Lightning bolt!"

Of course, upon being involved in the event, I decide to add a bit of what I like to call "Newbie spicyness!"

All of these events took place either via email traffic or Telecons.

Here's the first email:

I had to reduce the font size to fit it in one 1154 X 864 resolution screen size. I swear, each letter must have been roughly the size of a car tire on the original email. I don't know if the sender understood that having to piece together each word letter-by-letter is highly fucking annoying. Oh well.

(click image for hi-res goodness!)

Then one of my cohorts makes the mistake of asking the group how to proceed, and I respond in a productive, professional manner.

My Boss incorporates my stunning answer into his response to the event.
In front of his boss.
Am I climbing the corporate ladder or what?

(click image for hi-res goodness!)

YES! GOOOAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLL!!!!!!

God, I'm a loser.

--HK_Newbie

A response: 5 Reason Why you should Dig Doc (a.k.a. HK_Newbie)

2006-06-19T21:19:00.000-04:00

Hello Folks! It's been a while. I blame work, the acquisition of a new apartment in close vicinity to all the watering holes i'll ever need, and plain old tiredness from training for the MARINE CORPS MARATHON (to be held in an ultra-secret location where only ninjas, marine snipers, and Doc can reach). I hope I don't die. Really, cause that would put a damper on my video-game playing.

1. This is one point I really can't contest. I am a drunk Irish bastard. Emphasis on the bastard.

2. Ah, the gorgeous women. As is my style, they quickly realize what a psycho I really am, and once that knowledge is gained they avoid me like some biblical plague. A biblical plague that stalks you and cries when when your big, scary male friend threatens me with severe brain trauma. Doc doesn't like brain trauma unless it's self-inflicted in a bottle.

3. What can I say? The people who claim to be my parents were hippies. They experimented with all sorts of radioactive isotopes. Their favorite was Knippletotium 234. That explains my super powoers.

4. Actually, that's not quite accurate. I never got my black belt. They sent me straight to RAINBOW COLORED BELT! IT'S FABULOUS!!!

5. Hard Gay is a close personal friend of mine. He's not really gay though, instead he uses the natural fear of "teh ghey" to annoy and embarrass and instill this emotion that hasn't been defined by any language yet...I'll call it abflag: The fear of a homosexual's writhing abdominal muscles. Together we shall conquer the EARTH. Then I'll wall him in the Roman catcombs and wish him the best of luck! In pace requiescat!

I love myself almost as much as I hate myself.

--HK_Newbie

The Bar's podcast

2006-06-09T12:57:00.000-04:00

I've been working on launching a podcast where I read old stories. Over the last few months I've recorded a couple of things by Poe, some classical Greek history, the first book of Homer's Iliad, and two stories by H.P. Lovecraft. I haven't gotten the RSS feed up, but here is a preview, a reading of "Nyarlathotep" by Howard Phillips Lovecraft. Constructive feedback is always appreciated.

salvagebar reads "Nyarlathotep"

an e-mail from jonthe69er to one of his cohorts

2006-06-03T11:33:00.000-04:00

its jonathan i'm usin my sisters screenname

yo dat trip waz fun

u should have got accepted

it waz so fun

michael got into a fight wit terrorist

in the restaurant after we ate we went on dis little ride

and one mexico waz der and gabriel said were passin the border of mexico

and i said to prepare your green cards! lol

i waz so funny

i think we got in trouble too because we saw a bag and in the bag

there were passports and two people cant go back to brazil

they thought dat we stole the bag and we got into trouble

talk to u laterz then

1zz

-calamityJANE

No time for a title

2006-05-28T20:52:00.000-04:00

Let me preface what follows with this: I have a fever and i'm drunk on apple rum. Not sure what illness I have exactly, but there's a buzzing noise in my brain and it's only slightly dimmed with my "alcohol-as-panacea" approach. Let's jump right in!

Why do assholes feel the need to talk so much? Is it the calming drone of one's own voice inside one's own head? Does the asshole look at the faces of the people he's subjecting his asinine conversation, or is he blissfully unaware? I'm voting for unaware.

Case in point: last night at, of all places, "Fat Tuesday" on South Street.

I'm going to be unusually brief, but you'll get the point. Asshole 1 and 2 (no relation to asshole 1 and 2 of mardi gras fame) walk around the bar and start skirmishes. Asshole 2 has someone's dog tags and talks about being in the Air Force or some such bullshit. I had downed a few Duvells, 2 190 octanes (the local frozen drink), and perhaps a shot or two; so when it was my turn to be regaled by his slurred "souja" stories, I told him "I didn't realize the Air Force recruited midgets. Asshole."

Obviously I wasn't on the top of my game (he was REALLY short though), and he took it as insulting camradarie. Why me, oh god!? Why must the assholes of the world love ME? What have I done to earn your spite? I'll kill pagans, go celibate, eat nothing but fish for a year! Just please turn off my "Flypaper-for-freaks" allure.

The night ended when pseudo-souja failed to navigate around a table and somehow knocked down an entire bachlorette party. I have to admit, I was highly amused by this, and began an applause which was taken up by others. The bouncers picked him up, threw him out, and started to drag asshole #1 out. And, surprisingly, they came for me. So what did I say?

"Sir, I don't even know these assholes."

The bouncer laughed, and asshole #1 somehow heard me say this as they gave him the 'ol "drunkie heave ho!" into south street's stumbling, 1am populace.

"I'll get you mother-fucking traitor!" He shouted from outside.

Sure you will, buddy. Sure you will.

--HK_Newbie

2006-05-25T07:43:00.000-04:00

This redeems the movie-

Why does every person with cool powers have to end up doing cross over battles?

More Vids

2006-05-24T21:04:00.000-04:00

I don't know about anyone else, but I think this is fucking hot!

This one has a few things going on. I think its funny as hell someone made a song out of it. The she-man is kind of disturbing.

HK_Newbie Goes positively Nutters

2006-05-23T15:00:00.000-04:00

This past weekend was unusual. And that might be an understatement.

First, my weekend began approximately at 8pm on WEDNESDAY night, thanks to gking's unprecedented coaxing: "Doc, let's go drinking in the city with Boogie!"

My reaction was one of surprise and superstition. Was gking finally setting in place the ambush he's always threatened? Would I be able to make it through alive? To my further surprise, our old buddy, Boogie, was ready and willing to accompany us to philly for a night of debauched drunkery. Let me explain this character known as "Boogie" to you: He's a playa (and a player) with a passion for women, games, and persistently TRYING to defeat my cast-iron liver in glass-for-glass drinking contests. As I had presumed, our night began well enough...

We entered the Dark Horse Pub on South Street to the tunes of the Grateful Dead, and two chicks making out at the end of the bar. "This is my kinda place" I informed my cohorts, and immediately ordered a round of drinks and shots. We spent the first hour or so catching up on old times, making the same old jokes (which, somehow, still retain their humor), and staring at the two chicks as they locked lips, fell over their bar stools, and danced what i like to call "the drunk white chick shuffle". It was truly a sight to behold.

Boogie and I had pounded away at least 6 pints each and about 5 shots of jager bombs or as I like to call them, "Special Olympic Newbie in a glass" (thank you Tucker Max!) in under an hour, and we were feeling awfully sure of ourselves, so I invited Slutty Bi-Bar chick Number 1 (quite cute) and 2 (not really) over for a drink and conversation. I introduced myself and the rest of my running crew (sniper was stone cold sober, but the one shot and beer he had gave him the complexion of a homeless wino on a 40 dollar binge night; Boogie was singing the Sephiroth theme song of Final 7; and I was loquacious and idiotic--even more than is typical for me! In other words, we were a kick-ass group of young, sexy, heterosexual males and therefore quite irresistible to the opposite sex).

The girls sat with us for a while, we drank, talked, one of the girl's former boyfriend showed up and he and I discussed the intricacies of driving in New Jersey while Slutty Bi-Bar chick Number 1 go-go danced for our (mine, mostly) manly delight.

I could go on from here, detailing the bar-scene, but to be honest with you...it degrades as I do a few more shots and a few more beers. There's brief glimpses of further conversations, me dancing possibly, I think I almost got in a fight but the guy whose face I was going to rapidly and repeatedly accelerate into the pavement intelligently decided to avoid the poor odds (3 vs. 1) and continue to stumble down the street.

On a positive note, I decided to direct sniper through scenic South-west Philly to take us home. That ended up taking a good 2 hours longer than it should have. Through the ghetto. At 3 in the morning.

I'm a genius, I know.

And here's the cherry on top of the motherfucking Sundae: I had to get up and drive to work at 5am that same morning! I'll let you draw your own conclusions from that.

Here's a video to entertain you losers who need visual and auditory stimulation:

--HK_Newbie

Funny Vids

2006-05-19T23:13:00.000-04:00

No one posts enough anymore. So my new plan will be to have at least one video daily for your enjoyment.

Even more fun!!!

2006-05-15T02:40:00.000-04:00

Maybe even TOO MUCH FUN.

http://download.yousendit.com/404A627F3068D0FD

-CalamityJane

Fun!!!

2006-05-12T19:14:00.000-04:00

It's crunch time here at school so I don't have time for a real post. But here's some fun stuff to keep us all entertained.

Demo of "Beware The Water" off of the upcoming new Deftones album.

Me and JANE being fairly badass.

Clip from the legally halted "Chrono Trigger Resurrection".

Clip from Tekken 6.

-RaiNny

Newbie's theory regarding the WORLD

2006-05-06T10:14:00.000-04:00

Last night was a celebratory night. For Mexico.

For me, it started out like any other night.

Pulling into the wawa resulted in an almost immediate attack by roof ninjas (similar to regular ninjas, except they hide out on rooftops and drop down on me whenever I try to go out into the world) and drunken teenagers. The ninjas were easy enough to defeat with my shortie hogie, gatorade, and six shooter (.357 mag, 5 1/2 in barrel, Remington)...actually, the hogie and gatorade didn't help quite as much as the gun, but they were useful for killing my hunger and thirst (I love killing things that one normally wouldn't consider killing. It takes more imagination than plain 'ol killing).

The drunken teenagers were quite difficult however. They stood on and around my poor, beat-up cavalier and refused to move for some strange reason. Having used up all of my ammo on the previously mentioned ninja-attack, I was left with the difficult recourse of trying to REASON with these mental giants (read: living brain donors). Finally, it struck me: I should speak in a language they could understand!

"Cinco de mayo! YI YI YI YI YI! Tengo mucho nachos y tamales!" (I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP)

The group's collective ear perked up, accepted my words with a wisdom that comes only from massive amounts of tequila ingested shot-glass-by-shot-glass betwixt a chick's tits, and slowly moved away from my chariot of manly awesomeness.

...now that I think about that, it IS an excellent way to drink tequila. Hell, who am I kidding? It's the ONLY way to drink tequila! Happy cinco de mayo, BITCHES!

This video accurately depicts MY party night. Replace the power tools with pitchers of margarita and its like my weekend was put to song!

Improving upon perfection, Part 1.

2006-04-23T20:07:00.000-04:00

Judging from Rainny's last post, his new coif has brought him all sorts of new potential intersections with females of the sort, hitherto, he found unattracted by his hentai-tentacle-like former hair style. It really should go without saying (or in this case, typing) that the only one for Rainny is Calamity...especially a Calamity Jane with improved aiming ability and the wherewithal to acquire a "long-range paintbrush" like gking's.

With that out of the way, I'll slowly delve into the topic at hand--which, as always, is me. Or more particularly, on the ways to improve upon myself (i.e. PER-freaking-FECTION). This need not be a physical improvement either, areas of study are important too. From my end, I was thinking a cyborgized, paralytic-needle shooting penis for those "oh shit! why did I agree to this?!" moments, a brand-spanking new ninja mask (my old one was burned by the acid of a 100-armed, acid-spitting kraken that I killed somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic in an attempt to locate my misparked Cavalier. I eventually located the vehicle somewhere on spring-garden street. Of course, during the previously mentioned duel to the death, I misplaced my keys and ending up spending my night on someone's floor anyhow), and a new language skill...I was thinking Klingon perhaps. That would surely impress all the hot star-trek babes. Right?

I would also like to add some new items to my wardrobe. Here's the first:

An Electrical Safety Vest.

Notice the arcing electrical current, and kick-ass, protective gloves. Nothing says, "you can look ladies, but you can't touch" like thousands of volts of hair-searing, negatively charged ions, just looking for the fastest route to the ground. And as we all know, women want that which they cannot have. All I have to do is switch off the vest and voila: instant rain shower (Rain=Poon).

My Second wardrobe-enhancer:
The Dr. Doom mask

Now, some of you might cringe at the thought of me hiding my visage behind a steel/adamantine mask, but I reply (before severing one of your arteries at daring to cringe at one of my ideas) "what better way to guard my face against ruin than a hermetically sealed environment?". Once I have brought my prey...er, lucky lady(ies), to an agreed upon place that isn't my parent's basement, I will then remove my mask and revel in the squeals of her (or theirs, depending on the amount) visually-induced orgasmic delight. Did I spell "squeal" correctly?

Wow. That took alot out of me. I'm gonna go listen to 10,000 days until my ears bleed. Good night!

--HK_Newbie

The end is nigh.

2006-04-22T15:22:00.000-04:00

Well, it's finally happened. The monument to monogamous relationships that was Calamity and RaiNny is no more. In true RaiNny's girlfriend fashion, JANE's nervosa reached a critical point last night after I took one of those undeniably scientific online quizzes that matches you up with a compatible celebrity love based upon such notable queries as "For breakfast you are most likely to have: A) Coffee B) Orange Juice or Milk or C) Alcohol". Clearly, all other dating services should take note. Because the future of compatibility surveys is now in question with these new and ground-breaking techniques. Anyways, much to Calamity's chagrin, I somehow managed to get the one woman that fuels her furnace of unsubstantiated paranoia the most. Natalie Fucking Portman. I must say I was quite surprised when she appeared before us in all her pixelated glory. I began laughing uncontrollably at the sheer coincidence of it all. JANE, however did not. At that very moment something inside her snapped. Quickly she lunged at my eyes in an attempt to remove my valuable organs wailing like a banshee. "You fucked her didn't you!?! You son of a bitch! I will make you pay for your insolence!!!"

I didn't bother trying to reason with her. Because I know the bitches are KaRaZy when they get like this! Instead, after years of this usual reaction I have been able to hone my bitch deflecting skills to a razor's edge. I simply gave her a swift kick to the jugular and threw her out of my dorm room window. She immediately righted herself and ran off into the darkness like a wild ocelot.

Suffice it to say, our relationship is over. Not like I was surprised or anything. Nor do I really care, after all this time I've developed quite a thick skin for this kind of thing. And I've told her a million times that if she wants to be crazy that's fine. Just don't expect me to take it. And with a haircut like this, I've got bitches lined up around the block just to get a glimpse of my heavenly visage.

It's clear though, I must be more careful from now on. I'm not going to leave things up to chance anymore. I must be more...scientific like those online quizzes! Yes, that's it! I know, I'll write another computer program to help me! I can combine it with some of the algorithms from those online quizzes and my own personal genius to create the ultimate in Compatibility Tests! Fear me Dr. Niel Clark Warren!!!

Contrary to the other methods that rely on narrow viewed questions with only a few possible answers, my program allows you to make certain specifications for your mate. This allows for the most freedom and accuracy. Ok, here we go.

She should be the perfect melange of sex, fun, and intellect. Able to kick ass like a samurai but love like a siren. An excellent cook and great at washing the dishes too! What else? Oh, she's gotta love D&D AND GUNS! Video games too! Yeah, this is great! What am I missing...now, I remember. The most important attribute of all. She must LOVE ANAL SEX.

Ok, now all I have to do is hit return and the computer should come back with a result.

::PROCESSING::

Oh no...what...what have I done? I think I'm going to be sick.

JANE, wait!!! Come back!!! I'm sorry I'll do anything for you!!!

-RaiNny

Art Fags!!!

2006-04-15T18:05:00.000-04:00

The Art Fag. You all know who I'm talking about. That super pretentious man-boy walking around your neighborhood with his tight girl jeans (probably borrowed from his sister) and an almost midriff bearing t-shirt sporting his sideparted long bangs haircut and acting tough about it. You have all seen an art fag before. But watch out, he is much closer to you than you think....

Yes, That is Ryan. What happened to him? I think he's been queer-eyed. This is going to be a true test of the phrase "love is blind."

However, if all the people who thought Ryan and I were together because we had the same hair are right...then Ryan's next girlfriend is...

RUKY!!!!

Apparently, everyone seems to like his hair a lot...for once, everyone likes something about Ryan that I...dislike somewhat. Sorry, Ryan, I do think your haircut is fabulous but how can I be with a guy who's prettier than me? If you ever want to go shopping, though, I'll be happy to help you into some skinny girly pants!!

All jokes aside, congratulations to Ryan for taking the plunge and saying goodbye to like 5 years of hair committment!

-calamityJANE

William Blake was a ninja

2006-04-07T13:20:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure if you all are aware of the debate circulating in the most elucidated of academic circles; the debate that has the greatest minds of our time struggling with the very fabric of reality in order to attain that precious truth; the question for all ages: What is the most awesome creature ever to walk the face of the Earth? Ninja or Samurai?

At times, people have tried to interject other so-called "awesome creatures" into the mix. Dinosaurs were contemplated for a time--- then I reminded everyone that dinosaur bones were actually planted by God to test our faith in Him (Yea Verily, Ad Majorium Glorium Deus,Clatu Veratu Nictu, blah, blah, blah) and thus could not be considered for the title of "Most awesome creature ever to walk the face of the Earth" as they never truly existed.

Occasionally, one group would claim victory over another; hoping that if enough people believed the false claims, they would turn into a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. Kind of like that dude from Iraq that kept saying the US army hadn't yet penetrated into Bagdad and that Iraq's victory was imminent, even though statues were toppling to the ground behind him, and US soldiers were putting holes into everything that moved.

Moving on, during my sojourns into the annals of history (that sounds kinda sexual, doesn't it) I stumbled upon the great William Blake's personal journals and discovered a terrifying secret: William Blake was a ninja. My evidence? This poem, his first draft of "The Tyger"

The Tyger (First Draft)
By: William "Night Wind of Fearsome Cutting" Blake

NINJA

Ninja, ninja, burning bright
in the steel and concrete city of the night
what completely awesome hand and eye
framed thy bad-ass symmetry?
and what the shuriken and what the blade
and what the mask and what the babes
did he who made the samurai make thee?
and did he smile to see
what a thing he did make?

As you can clearly see, ninja's, from time immemorial, have always been recognized as the most bad-ass, and completely awesome creatures ever to pimp-roll their way from one side of the globe to the other, and to think any differently is pure brain-melting stupidity. I rest my case, QED, Ipso Facto, A priori, blah blah blah. I win.

--HK_Newbie

Korean girls are hot and...

2006-03-28T00:32:00.000-05:00

REALLY FUCKING SCARY!!!

-RaiNny

I'm losing touch with reality

2006-03-24T13:33:00.000-05:00

Okay. Very slowly I'm coming to the realization, despite what others keep telling me, that I'm losing "it". Whatever the hell "it" is-- "it" is something inherent in most people that allows them to distinguish between "real" and "not real".
Reality is what stays behind when you stop believing in it. I never believed in anything in the first place, and there's still so much absurdity that it's hard to understand how the world can stay in orbit with all this wobbly, defective junk dancing around on its surface. If I were the earth, I'd be quite sick of all the dancing, hurling, and reproducing. Not to mention polka bands and accordions and all the other so-called "inventions" of the addled human brain meats. Enough of the vague allusions. Let's move on to something more concrete.

ARE YOU SEEING WHAT I'M SEEING? PART: THE FIRST.

Okay, I have a few questions. Why am I attracted to Link? Isn't Link supposed to be a dude. A bad-ass Mofo out to save the princess from the pig-like Gannondorf?

Second question: Those first few lines cannot be japanese. They must be the singer just vocalizing, rapping, scatting. Please tell me they have no meaning. PLEASE.

Third question: Zelda is an awesome cage dancer. Actually, that was more of a comment than a question.

Third REAL question: why does Zelda's voice sound like a geriatric female voice-actor doing her best impression of pure annoying condensed into a human form and given sentience?

But Daa-yum, they can dance. I've watched it about a hundred times now, and i've got the first couple of steps of Link's dance down pat. Look forward to a Doc rendition in the near, drunken future.

--HK_Newbie

Spring Break Plans

2006-03-23T00:52:00.000-05:00

April 7-9...who's gonna be around bitches?

-RaiNny

Tom Cruise is the worst actor ever. And he's stuck in the closet.

2006-03-22T22:05:00.000-05:00

Yes, Ladies and gentleman, I managed to get ahold of the latest "banned" South Park episode using my l33test H4x0ring Skillz. I've said it before, and i'll say it again, Tom Cruise is a freak and deserves nothing from the public other than acidic ridicule. Thankfully, the writers for South Park agree with me (how could anyone DISAGREE with me?!) and decided to pen this particular script. Thank you, god, for occasional, satirical sanity; without which, the whole human race would degenerate into meaningless monkey rituals and cargo plane worshipping morons.

--HK_Newbie

P.S. Natedawg, this brings back memories of downloading SP episodes at the apt. and watching them while drinking gallons of self-distilled vodka and shooting it out of our noses...actually, I might have imagined that last part.

Gking's amazing stupendous adventure in Existential and anti-material freedom

2006-03-22T17:38:00.000-05:00

This morning I took my car in for a oil change and I find out that there's a leak somewhere in my transmission. My mechanic told me that I would most likely need to get a new one since my car has about a billion miles on it. So I it's gonna cost me about $1300. Not a real big deal, but just fucking annoying as all hell. And as I was driving home in this irritated state, my cell phone goes off. So there I am driving like 60 miles down a 35 mile per hr. road digging in my pocket for my cell when I get pulled over for speeding. I answer my cell anyway, since I've now gotten pulled over and by this point I'm fucking furious. It's a co-worker and guess what she has to say? Sorry, I dialed the wrong number but, how's it going anyway? I hang up.

Cop asks for the usual and wants to know if I knew I was going that fast, and I acknowledged that I did. Made some BS up about going home to get to work on time when suddenly he sees the SigSauer decal sticker I left in my car from picking up my Blackwater the other day. He starts yaking bla bla bla about how he tried to get his dept. to get some Sigs and that they're the Masteratis of Pistols etc. We must have stood there talking about handguns for about 15 mins. Then he tells me he'll let me go because I have good taste in firearms!! What a fucking freak! But thank God nonetheless.

I get home and I drive into my local gun club to get some membership paperwork done when I see a few guys shooting trap. I mean I been wanting to do "this" for so long and I found this to be a great oportunity... Cell phones; what can I say? They're fucking annoying as hell, never work most the time and cause cancer. (well i really don't know about that, but anyway) And I really don't use it all that much and all the people that call me are annoying ass bitches with the exception of like 2 people. (you know who you are) So anyway, I get this ever so spontaneous idea. I ask one of the gentleman to pretend my cell is a skeet and without hesitation he told me he would with a good robust laugh. He also shared my hatred of cell phones apparently. So I tossed it in the air as hard as I could and for a moment there it almost seemed like it was frozen in time. Ever so gently gliding through the air, dancing with the soft breeze. It was beautiful. Then with a shocking thunderous BOOM! it was obliterated into a gazillion little pieces and for once in a very long long time, I, was happy.

--Gking4ever

Restaurant Review

2006-03-18T17:08:00.000-05:00

Porky & Porkies

I just tried a new korean BBQ place called "Porky & Porkies" at 11th and Washington Ave. I must say its the best korean BBQ I have ever been to. This statement has absolutely no value since I have never been to a korean BBQ before, but I do know its only $15 for all you can eat at lunch which is a good deal given the prices at other places. I must have cooked about four full plates of bul-go-ki. The place was very clean with a bar and plasma screen tv's playing something in korean subtitled in korean. I heard the place is only a year old, but its a great location. I give it 7 thumbs up. I should bring a camera in the future, posts with no pictures are kinda lame, just like the way I made 'kind of' into 'kinda'.

~ Rainny

Imagine a legion of locusts attacking the enemy...

2006-03-16T14:11:00.000-05:00

GO FORWARD, MY ANT ARMIES, MY BUTTERFLY BATTALIONS!

FOR THE AMERICAN WAY OF LIFE! FOR GREAT JUSTICE!

Kendo

2006-03-16T10:59:00.000-05:00

I think I will set the record for the most consecutive posts in one day. I wanted to give my friends dojo a plug. David who founded the club 3 years ago has turned it into a really successful organization. He attracts many of the great sensei's from Philadelphia and New York. Since you all love martial arts, if you are ever in Jersey, I recommend check the club out. He would be more than happy to let your borrow gear for the night and enjoy the thrill of getting hit in the face with a Shinai. Princeton Kendo Homepage

Musicians

2006-03-16T06:56:00.000-05:00

I had a dream last night. It involved something that happens in the future. It can best be described by this famous quote, "It's your kids Marty, something happens to your kids" (BTTF2) I saw how our musical talent was passed on to our kids.

Natedawg - as my love for guitar and classical combine, I manage to not only pass on my musical skillz, but my ability to make sexy faces that bring in all the ladies.

Gking - with his passion for classical and the magic of hentai reproduction, passed his skillz onto his daughter.

Rainny and Calamity - because you refused to listen to Gkings advice on bumbing ugly, you managed to have a guitar prodigy who loves shredding the amazing classic of cannon D.

HK Newbie - newbie understood that he loved music, but just couldn't grasp it himself, so he genetically altered his son to be the worlds best cowbell player.

As an added bonus, I have thrown in another rendition of Nights of Fire for old time sake.

-Natedawg

The Cure

2006-03-15T20:32:00.000-05:00

After reading Gkings very graphic description of his current illness, I thought back to my childhood and thought about the things they made me feel better when I wasn't doing so well. The one thing that always seems to help when you are not doing well is music. It seems have the power to lift you up. So I recorded this song for Gking to help lift him up. Karate It requires quicktime. Enjoy.

-Natedawg

A comparison: New Mexican Irradiated Freaks Vs. Washington Irradiated Freaks

2006-03-14T18:09:00.000-05:00

Ladies and Gents,

As we all know, there's something seriously rotten in the states of New Mexico and Washington. Most likely, it stems from the nuclear testing done in the 40's; when no one had a single clue about what the hell they were doing.

I believe their hypothesis went something like this: Split atom from isotope-->start chain reaction-->big explosion ensues (be sure to purchase some bad ass reflective glasses)--> Universe may or may not explode--> Go USA!

You have to love their gumption. You also have to love the word gumption. I demand it.

The unexpected side effects which include, but are not limited to, cancer, freakish goiters, super powers, and an almost magnetic attraction to psychotic maniacs that love telling me their life-fucking-story.
But that's another story.

Let's compare freaks now, shall we?

Round 1

Category
Maniacal killers:

New Mexico:

This handsome fellow is the stereotypical new mexican maniacal killing freak: huge protruding skull, evil glaring eyes, and a penchant for canabalism. Who knew exposure to high amounts of fallout could be so fun?

Washington:

This hideous beast is actually a combination of spare body parts the entity amputated on its way to the local bar (it leaves a fairly easy trail to follow, just look for people with one or two less limbs than they look like they should have). Its true form is something only glimpsed at for a brief moment after it has lured its prey (young, virile males) into a secluded location and drains them of their precious bodily fluids.

Round 1 most definitely goes to Washington. You just can't beat something that steals your precious bodily fluids. Believe me, YOU CAN'T!

Look for round 2 shortly....

--HK_Newbie

Happy Fun time in the Pacific Northwest

2006-03-12T21:53:00.000-05:00

Hello and Greetings from so-called "evergreen" Washington state. Sigh...(yes, I actually typed "sigh") I can feel the radiation leaking (soaking, having-tea-with?) my body, doing irreparable damage to my vas deferens, ultimately destroying any chance of me ever reproducing (as if I had any chance to begin with!). Why my current slave master sees fit to send me to these nuclear wastelands is beyond my ability to comprehend, but apparently it has something to do with them HATING ME.

Back to Washington: I don't know why they call it the "evergreen" state. Yes, yes, it has a ton of trees-- Whoop-dee-fucking-doo! But what does that tell us about the assholes who inhabit its political boarders? There's gotta be some truth in advertising, and it shouldn't restrain itself to describing the landscape.

Listen to me Washington State (this goes for the other 47 contiguous as well-- Hawaii and Alaska are self-righteous bitches, so they don't count): when you come up with a tagline, you gotta spice it up a bit. Lie! Make Shit Up! And for God's sake, don't come up with some pathetic, non-enticing truth!

What I always say is: if you're gonna lie, why not go balls out and say something totally ridiculous and unbelievable? Call it the "get laid" capital of the world, or the "most beautiful place on Earth" (except everyone already knows, that title is reserved for whatever 3 feet of personal space I'm currently occupying; so right now, a section of Washington is indeed "the most beautiful place on Earth").

Well folks, that's really about it. I went out on St. Patrick's Day. Got really, really drunk. Tossed my cookies in the hotel lobby (oh, they just loved that). And slept for 18 HOURS. All-in-all, it was a good weekend.

--HK_Newbie

Attack of the drunken bathroom hat stealer!

2006-03-02T15:12:00.000-05:00

Why is it, everytime I go out into the world in another spoiled attempt to have fun, someone has to go all aggro on me and try to ruin my night? Take last night for example: fat tuesday at Fat Tuesdays in S. Street Philadelphia.

For some reason, I was wearing a jester's hat as I went into the bathroom, and as I was doing my thing at the urinal (whistling "check up on it" by Beyonce. Don't ask why. I just want it out of my head before I forcibly extract it like I did that CIA listening device they implanted in my ear canal a few years ago) I heard a gruff voice say "Gimme dat hat" (yes, he actually said "dat". I'm pretty sure he was from some Eastern Bloc country that refuses to pronounce their "th's") then he proceeded to snatch the hat from my head. I finished up at the urinal, very angry, and came face to face with the friend of the idiot who stole my hat; lets call them idiot #1 (the hat-stealer)and idiot #2 (the friend). Idiot #2 apologized, handed the hat back to me, and asked me to forgive his drunken friend. Idiot #2 then tried to cold cock me. Thankfully, he was very drunk (suprise!) and ended up punching not so much me, as he did the tiled wall three feet to my left. Then again, I could have just displaced myself that distance without even realizing it, ninja-style. But I doubt it. I think he just couldn't aim for shit.
I lost it for a minute (i was already pretty buzzed by that point) and pushed him into the toilet stall and started walking away. The bouncers chose that opportune time to rush into the bathroom, grab drunken idiot #1 and #2, and ask me if they should kick them out. It was my good luck that the bathroom monitor type-guy saw the whole thing go down, and told the bouncers that it was the 2 morons, and not the single, bad-ass, and almost painfully physically attractive young man that began the fight. Idiot #2 was saying things like "he won't do anything" refering to idiot #1, and Idiot #1 was having some difficulty adjusting to the sheer amount of fleshy, bouncer meat crushing his arms to the sides of his body. I told the bouncer leader (lets call him Togar "the destroyer") that so long as they didn't fuck with me anymore, i didn't care if they stayed. Idiot #1 then screwed things up for himself and his buddy by shouting something highly lucid and threatening along the lines of "I'm gonna fucking kill you, you fucking fuck!". I laughed, waved bye bye, and the crowd of bouncers dragged idiot #1 and idiot #2 to mingle with their own kind of defective grey matter out in the street.

Needless to say, my night was ruined. I spent the rest of the time there looking over my shoulder, hoping the idiots' friends wouldn't come into the bar with my description (jester hat, bad ass, super sexy) and try to snap my neck. Yay for Mardi Gras!

--HK_Newbie

Why in god's name do i do this to myself?

2006-02-24T16:06:00.000-05:00

Oh my aching head. And back. Thighs. Neck. Islets of langerhans...basically every part of my body is in excruciating pain right now. But that wonderful, dissasociative tension is back in my brain, and thus is my ability to type coherently and manically!

Why, you ask? Because I have found the wonderful wonderful world of ::trumpets blare, drums roll, crows caw, suicide bombers explode:: the OPEN BAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR. Yes, that's right, my fellow livers of life on this rapidly spinning, slowly deteriorating chunck of earth and molten core held tenuously together by gravitational forces that--when you REALLY think about them-- DON'T MAKE A WHOLE LOT OF SENSE IN AND OF THEMSELVES (an sich). I hate it when that happens...it makes me think that the more people realize this, who don't share in the accepted reality that allows it to continue, will eventually result in a whole world-explody dealie. This sequence of pictures sorta explains it:

1

2

3

Obviously, there's a very complex event scheme behind each image and between each transistion and I'm sure that in the future i'll have enough time and reserves of self-control to take the 5 minutes required to explain this whole shebang and save humanity from cracking open the earth like an uncooked egg (the earth and the egg are both oblong spheroids. Fun fact for the day!). Or I might just have another shot!

Now where was I? Oh yes, ranting.

I've slowly come to the realization that there are two types of people in the world: Tools and Users. It's like the Yin and Yang dualistic world mentality, except with more blood and duplicitous scheming than EVERY Shakespeare play put together and multiplied by a REALLY BIG NUMBER (the preceding capital letters imply importance. Second fun fact of the day!).

For a while, I was able to be "Doc the observer". Then, for a long time, I was "Doc the ubiquitous tool for all". It was--and still is-- pretty cool. It's like being a person, except without having the ability to make any choices; which actually eliminates much of the troubling parts of being a person (i.e. free will, decision making). Parts of my Scope Of Work (SOW) include: "repetitive monkey boy, psychological waste lock, transporter of doom, bringer of meats, sideshow, ultra portable guided missle target, and dependable euncuh (figuratively speaking, of course)."

And here I am now. Certainly not a User by any stretch of the imagination (that just isn't my bag), and slowly metamorphisizing like a modern-day Gregor Samsa into yet another tool (hopefully this time I'll have sharper blades though).

--HK_Newbie

Stony Brook Aikido and Judo Club

2006-02-19T17:45:00.000-05:00

Thanks to Jane's incredibly sexy HTML skills, the Stony Brook Aikido and Judo Club now has an "official" website. You can tell it's "official" by all the cool graphics and sick videos. The site is really just in its preliminary stages as of right now but will be updated with more soon...Newbie, you got your shodan?

-RaiNny

Question: Is Tony Jaa Badass???

2006-02-18T22:12:00.000-05:00

Answer: Yeah, he is.

-RaiNny

Really, really, really focused

2006-02-14T10:02:00.000-05:00

I feel a bit odd today. That's probably partly why I'm posting (and alliterating).

Usually, when I'm about to begin a tirade I have some vague topic in mind and I'll move on in a tangent from there; today is a different story. Today, I have this forward-and-onward force on the inside of my head, originating somewhere in the frontal lobe, preventing any offtopic discussion or internal confusion. Let's begin, shall we?

1. I'm about 5 inches from classic, full-on Doc-hermit mode. Maybe it's the weather, maybe it's current events, but I have the feeling that my cell phone is about to make a one-way trip into the schuykill followed by my rolodex (if I had one). Now that I have a disturbingly large cache of vodka and rum secreted away in my basement room, I believe I can survive for at least two months without having ever to leave the house...so long as my internet connection doesn't sputter out. (Forgive the bit of self-pity in the preceding paragraph. The more I learn about people I thought I knew, the more I want to just stay at the bar and not really learn about people AT ALL. It's better to just stay drinking pals/acquaintances/one night stands. Don't you agree?)

2. Bored and home again. It's about the same as I remember and as fun as it's ever been. I have found one saving grace these past couple of days: You Have Question, Ninja have Answer. I honestly wish I had come up with this exact same idea (with the same theme song. Trust me, to hear it is to love it.) But I didn't, so shut up and appreciate it anyway.

3. My Review of "Final Destination 3: People Die and we like it"

If anything can possibly satisfy my great thirst for seeing pretty people die in complicated, rube goldbergian ways, it is this one stunning accomplishment of modern filmmaking (I spent 15 minutes removing, adding, and removing the second "m" from filmmaking, until I finally decided that it should be spelled with two "m's". If anyone disagrees, they can go fuck themselves bloody).
"Final Destination 3: Massive Bloodloss" is the "Casablanca" of forcible limb detachment, the "Gone With The Wind" of chest-sucking puncture wounds, the "Wizard of Oz" of flesh-burning delight (you'll know what i'm talking about when you see that particular scene). In other words, this movie does well what it was design to do: show people what we already knew--at our core, we are nothing but mindless mobbs appeased by bread, circuses, and well-coreographed violence (afterall, what's the point if it isn't stylized to the point where it's almost completely desensitized to the audience?). I give it 5 monkeys dressed in business suits out of 5.

--HK_Newbie

google video!

2006-02-13T01:47:00.000-05:00

this video is kind of long (15 minutes) but if you have 15 minutes, invest it in this waste of time:

asian fever!

i thought gking might get a kick out of it at least.

--calamityJane

A Guide To Dealing With The Socially Inept

2006-02-11T20:57:00.000-05:00

After receiving such a positive response to my first "Guide" I have decided to yet again grace your filthy presences with my unequalled literary genius. But while my first guide dealt with the rather limited range of a collegiate dormitory experience, my newest addition will have a much larger scope in mind.

We all know how to deal with the inane gibberings of the average person. Their conversations usually being limited to what club they're going to this weekend and complaining about how hard Chemistry 100 is even though it's the third time they're taking it, they have no reason to talk to us as long as we don't bother them. But being the rather sexy and awesome specimens that we are (by "we" I mean "me" and not the rest of you, especially Newbie and Salvagebar) we are particularly vulnerable to the very lowest dredges of society. It is a disease we have affectionately dubbed as "crazy person flypaper disease". We've all felt its effects before. It occurs quickly and without warning. You can be anywhere. On the street, in a movie theater, the mall, or a classroom. No structure can provide adequate sanctuary from these people. The onset and symptoms are more standardized however. With even the slightest of recognition (or sometimes even none at all) they will strike. Often just making passing eye contact is enough to signal that quiet whisper in your cerebrum. "Fuck" you say in your head. You know at that moment, this is going to suck. And without a moment to spare, they're upon you.

Unfortunately, I have not yet found an easy cure-all for the disorder we are afflicted with. Instead I have done my best to catalogue the findings I have made concerning the various species we have encountered. Perhaps those that follow us can make good use of my research and provide future generations with a vaccine to this crippling infection.

Utilizing the incredible powers of my Compaq Presario's 700MHz Celeron processor with 8Mbs of integrated video memory, that I got out of NASA's dumpster, I have created a couple of algorithms to compute. The first is the probability of whether or not the person will become a "cat person" in their old age, and begin hoarding mangy felines until their home becomes so overtaken with poop and/or rabies that we get to see them on one of those "Animal Cops" shows and the guy in the episode is all like "That's probably the worst thing I've seen in 12 years on the job." and the person is like "Wahhhh, don't take my babies!!!" and I'm all like "I could really go for a cheese sandwich right about now." Secondly, I have always wondered what O-Sensei would do if he were locked in a room with one of these specimens. Would he totally rethink his ideas on a world harmony? Or would he simply laugh and shrug off all the crazy? Well now we can find out!

The Hippy:

The Hippy can be easily identified by his retarded sense of style in which nearly everything he owns has some sort of frayed end on it or looks like something you'd buy at an Indian casino gift shop. Lots of times they can also be seen carrying one of those incredibly existential long boards, because suddenly it's easier to carry a wooden object the size of the bearer into every classroom, rather than walk 1/15 of a mile. Oh yeah, and sandals or flip flops are a must. Socially, they are usually at their worst when they think that they might have even the smallest shred of a common interest with you. You should probably never wear anything that bears the slightest sense of "free thought". Like Tool shirts, these are very bad and could get you into a lot of trouble. In fact, you should probably stop listening to music all together because hippies love music and will consistently badger you about shitty bands they like and concerts they've been to. If you find yourself in an unavoidable encounter with a hippy you should probably mention as quickly as possible that you "don't really like music". This will probably confuse and frighten him so much that he'll probably leave you alone from then on.

Probability of becoming a cat person: Low, as owning pets is a crime against the Earth.

WWOD: Change the name of irimi nage (entering throw) to hippy gaeshi (hippy counter).

The Otaku:

Unfortunately for us, the Otakus share a very strong common interest with the cohorts of the 4MR. Namely, in our affinity for the Japanese culture. Though where our fondness is only for awesome stuff (martial arts, Beat Takeshi and Akira Kurosawa, crying virgins, sake, and non-shitty anime). The Otaku loves everything BUT the cool stuff. In particular, they will only watch the most inexplicably retarded programs where the only plotline seems to be "We're ninjas in the woods, let's fight!" Their appearance can vary from "skinny with a stupid hat" all the way to "fat with a stupid hat". Recently though, the Indiana Jones style accessory that is so popular among them has begun to lose favor to the "Naruto Headband". I actually had the misfortune of an Otaku showing up to one of my Aikido classes with one of these on. I was instantly pissed and almost destroyed him immediately.

Probability of becoming a cat person: Variable depending on obesity level.

WWOD: Lie and say he's Micronesian.

The Nerd-Fag:

An acquaintance of mine wrote the first synopsis on Nerd-Fag behavior. He described them as the type of person that "...after a teacher says "See you tomorrow class." on a Friday afternoon would raise his hand and proclaim "Don't you mean Monday!" and grin with satisfaction of his own wit..." Additionally, the Nerd-Fag is the same person who goes out of his way to argue with the Professor every chance they get. It's not enough that he's paying thousands of dollars to learn, he also wants to teach the class apparently. They are not strictly limited to their own sub-class however. Elements of the Nerd-Fag can be found in every genre of study. One particular species I have much interaction with is that of the Scientific Nerd-Fag. This variety often takes immense pride in their own genius. Sometimes going so far as arguing with the great postulates of Newton and Einstein. Apparently thousands of scientists missed something this guy figured out five minutes into the lecture. Once I even witnessed one derive his own equation of the universe! The professor simply stated "No, you can't do that. That's wrong." and told him to sit down. It was one of the most glorious moments of my life and I think about it almost every day.

Probability of becoming a cat person: Medium. Depends on whether or not they meet another Nerd-Fag willing to marry them.

WWOD: Talk with them for a few minutes before blinking out of existence after they disprove the second law of thermodynamics (again).

Mara Linda Yu:

This is the most heinous of all social cretins. Luckily, there is only one Mara Linda Yu in existence at a time, much like the great Tarrasque. Similarly, her terror knows no bounds. Unfortunately for myself, Calamity, and Kosta, she happens to inhabit the same environment we do and are constantly in fear for our very lives. Her presence is so overwhelmingly obnoxious that I've actually witnessed Nerd-Fags running from her screaming "No, please leave me alone!" Her exploits include but are not limited to: singing loudly in public, screaming in the library because the printer doesn't work, throwing a nazi salute in the middle of the cafeteria while proclaiming "Asians are the master race!", and telling everyone her life story...everytime you meet her. If you have the misfortune of actually having to interact with the vile beast consider your life to be forever changed for the worse. You will spend the rest of your days in fear because there is absolutely nothing you can do to defend yourself from the mightiest of social scourges.

Probability of becoming a cat person: High. Pity the cats.

WWOD: Self-immolate.

-RaiNny

The Truimphant Return of The Newbie

2006-02-09T11:00:00.000-05:00

Ah! The sweet smell of victory. It smells like...sand and green chile?
That's right, dear incontinent readers, I am now officially the president-elect of the nation known as NEW new mexico. No longer a place for super-secret alien overlords to begin building up their invasion forces or a desolate location for the US government to test their nuclear (or nuc-u-lar, if you're functionaly retarded) devices; the "Land Of Enchantment" has ceased to be the land of LSD/Peyote-inspired enchantment and metamorphisized into the land of khaki-wearing, video-game playing, path-finding algorithm-tweaking, collectives of losers and nerds extraordinare. And who do all these citizens of the newly christened "Land of the Geeks" pay heed to?

Me, baby. ME.

Even the hotties-- yes they too-- are geeks. And as such, they know much regarding proper grounding techniques (in order to make purposful electrocution that much more painful, don't ask more questions, just trust me: it hurt) and hand-to-hand impromptu weapons design. The gentlemen purchase videogames in excess and spend their free time defeating 100 foot collosi or rocking out to guitar hero, forsaking such lowly, plebian pursuits such as dating, working out, sleeping, or eating.

Yes, I have irrevocably turned New Mexico into the NEW new mexico. A place where nerds and losers and geeks of all colors, creeds, and nationalities can run free to express their nerdish pursuits. My job is done here. There is nothing more to do.

Cya L8tr, N00bz!!!!!

--HK_Newbie

---The ancillary purpose of this post was to move that FUCKING HORRIBLE IMAGE OF RAINNY DOWN THE DAMN PAGE WHERE IT WON'T KEEP ME UP AT NIGHT CRINGING AND SHIVERING IN THE FETAL POSITION UNDER MY BED HOPING THAT SCARY RAINNY-DEMONS WON'T DROP DOWN MY CHIMNY AND TAKE ME AWAY. Good day to you, sir.

MUAHAHAHAHAHA!

2006-02-07T19:10:00.000-05:00

so that eric doesn't kill me!!!

2006-02-05T22:37:00.000-05:00

i started a post but then i got tired so here is a link to some pictures from my birthday without any explanation at all. i think they are self-explanatory. maybe i'll finish that post later.

Jane turns 12!!

--calamityJANE

The Internet is Awesome!!!

2006-02-01T13:37:00.000-05:00

In lieu of actually posting a new article I bring you a couple of links and movies. Rest assured though, I actually have several pieces in the works that once I have the time to complete, will upload.

Similar to Somethingawful.com's "Awful Link of the Day", I deliver to you two of the worst "Personal Home Pages" that I have ever had the misfortune to lay my eyes on. They are so enigmatically retarded that one can't help but think that they're some sort of joke. But alas, they have both been confirmed by members of the 4MR to be in fact...real and entirely serious! God help us.

This first link can be described as precisely 100% why I hate people.

The second link reads something along the lines of a combination between Mad Libs and a Chinese restaurant placemate.

Last, I bring you what is capable with one of the true wonders of the world: Google Video. It's been around for some time now as I'm sure you all know, but just recently I have found a wonderful use for it. With this tool I have found a new wondrous way to waste time by watching Mixed Martial Arts highlight clips. In particular, my favorite has got to be watching Genki Sudo who is best known for his flamboyant entrances and ring antics. Sudo was actually at one time a Japanese Pro-wrestler but has made the transition into MMA perfectly.

Sudo Mania!!!

Clip 1.

Clip 2.

Clip 3.

-RaiNny

Stuck again. In the bloody desert.

2006-01-31T13:40:00.000-05:00

Oooookaaay. So what was supposed to be a weeklong trip to the desert where I spent the past 8 months has turned into a rather long extended stay with my departure date slipping each time it approaches. Also, free time is at a premium it seems.

The reason, you ask? check this out.
And that's about all I have to say concerning that.

When I'm NOT crawling through smoldering trailer wreckage out here, I'm reading books about Kung-Fu high schools, playing my kick-ass Nintendo DS, sleeping, or drinking at the hotel bar and talking to various travelers who get to leave New Mexico before I do, and for that I HATE THEM. ::sigh:: This whole scenario is strangely familiar to me.

So guess what I did?

....
......
.......
No guesses? Okay! I created a MYSPACE page! That's right! The most horrible collection of fucking idiot teenagers and gansta-wannabe's ever seen on the face of the internets, and I go and create a profile. I do admit that a few of my friends do have myspace pages as well (they fall into the exempted category, everyone else is either an idiot teenager or a gansta wannabe); but I always vehemently rebelled against this inexplicable desire to make one's personal info. so easily accesible to pretty much anyone with a computer, keyboard, and spasming cerebral matter (i.e. a teenager or ganster).

So, without further ado, here is my totally amazing myspace page. Enjoy assholes!
clicky clicky.

--HK_Newbie

The Best of Livejournal

2006-01-30T10:58:00.000-05:00

In lieu of a new, original post (which will come soon!), here's a throwback to the good old golden days of my livejournal. This is probably the number 1 best and only worthwhile entry of my entire livejournal career.

i'm having shitty days.
i've been taking a shit almost every day now. it feels good to be regular again.

this is really good shit. just really good. and "shit" finally refers to actual fecal matter. haha. not that devil-weed and not the dragon. just real poopie.

i know it's weird to be happy about it. but i don't know. when i'm shitting right, i start to feel better. like when i first became vegetarian and started having those clean shits on a regular basis...oh man. i don't think i ever told anyone how excited i was.

i'm regular. and there's nothing like feeling really healthy. this is way better than when i wasn't shitting for weeks at a time. god, those days were terrible.

sometimes, i even feel the urgent NEED to shit. and the shit that comes out isn't weird...you know, like gross and soft and extremely smelly. usually i associate urgency with really bad shit (eg diarreah) which i don't think i've had in a really long time...i mean, my shit is just so consistent and not even that foul smelling (but hey, i know my shit stinks). and when i wipe, it's clean!

you can tell a lot by how much your shit stinks.

anyway, i'm supposed to be in class or something like that. but i think i'm going to shit first. ah. have a good day.

(01/30/2006- My days have not been shitty, unfortunately. =T )

--calamityJANE

Some questions

2006-01-15T10:46:00.000-05:00

Alright, before someone posts yet another video of seemingly cloned, possibly attractive Japanese chicks singing a catchy tune with a reeeeeaaaaally ugly wrester guy (who consists of about 90% flab and 10% crotch); I'd like to ask some questions that have been plaguing me for quite some time and I feel it's best to just air them out in a public forum so people more wise than myself (i.e. EVERYONE) could answer them for me.

My first question, suprisingly enough (Sarcasm!), is about alcohol. Does it clean your teeth for you? Is there some abrasive, germ killing ability in booze of all sorts that whitens AS it strengthens? I've noticed, as of late, that my teeth seem to be in their best health ever. I'm pretty sure that it's not due to any change in my hygenic schedule. Hell, nowadays when I come home at night (or, more usually, my hotel room) and i'm so wasted I'd probably accidently stab myself in the brain with the toothbrush in a ham-handed attempt at brushing my teeth (actually, that doesn't sound like a bad idea) so I just go straight to bed and postpone the brushing for the morning. The thing is, when I smile at myself the next morning in the mirror as I do my daily affirmations ("Newbie, you are a god among men. Newbie, you ARE worth it. Newbie, setting people on fire is wrong!") I'm practically blinded by the reflection of the bathroom light on my teeth. Just a thought folks....

My second question is about women. Why are they so insane? What makes them this way? I'm not gonna say anything specific, because once I start, I doubt I'll be able to stop. But let me explicate my reasoning for believing they (all women) are completely bonkers and why we (guys) purchase drinks for them at the local watering hole and do other things that serve only to minimize and manage their severe mental damage. 1. They say one thing (like, "I'll see you at such and such a place at such and such a time") when they really mean ("I hope I never see you again, because if I do, I'll bust a nine in your dome"). That's called lying ladies, and it's wrong. Can you say "lying?" And roughly 100 percent of everything they say falls under that "BIG FUCKING LIE" category. Thank god for the gift of multiple rum and cokes, which encourages one of two possibilities: 1) Lying so ridiculous it couldn't possibly be mistaken for the truth, or 2)::GASP:: the TRUTH!
Additionally, they can't drive. And no amount of booze will fix that. Honestly, there's gotta be something wrong in those cute craniums of theirs, and I wish someone would come up with a quick patch and release it already.

I have some other queries for your perusal and contemplation, but I think I'll stop here and let someone answer these two cunundrums before I post any more. Thanks!

--HK_Newbie

This one is better

2006-01-15T09:12:00.000-05:00

NIGHT OF FIRE!

2006-01-14T09:12:00.000-05:00

--salvagebar

Proof of hybrid strength

2006-01-13T14:42:00.000-05:00

People of mixed racial parentage are more attractive.

In the first study of its kind, Caucasians and Asians rated average Eurasian faces as more attractive than average faces of either race.

--salvagebar

Samurai For President '08

2006-01-10T15:46:00.000-05:00

Hello, my name is Masayuki Miosaka, and I would like to be your new Super Fun-Time Emperor of Happiness and Law. Together, I believe we can build a golden bridge of milk and honey to the land of our ancestors and beyond, even to the Moon should the weather permit the bearing of our fruit.

For too long the people of this delicious country have allowed the corrupt and inflammable politicians to break their backs with the burden of lies and half-truths. Now I have come to you to lead you to great bear penis fortunes. These super treasures having been forged by the light of our people's blistering spinal columns and delivered to us by us and you!

I know that there are powerful, blood-filled warriors among you ready to ride into the deepest of voting brothels to destroy our enemies. And all I require of you is your undying allegiance and ten bushels of rice each. I assure you that your happiness will be resumed upon your bodily decay should you meet a glorious cherry blossom death with our enemies.

Our opponents have often lain roads of questions about our policies. They criticize us for our tough Anti-Ninja reform and seemingly bottomless ocean of nurse and schoolgirl tentacle rape scandals. They prosper on the faults of our failed treaties with Godzilla and Mothra. Our inability to keep the incessant mech-battles and Pokemon duels off the streets of our joyous capital only serve as wind-traveled fuel to the dragon of their blackened hearts. But now is not the time to concentrate on the spoiled milk travels. Let us remember how we have rebuilt Tokyo from cinder no less than 74 times this year. We are strong and persevere over all odds big or full of vomit. Let us recall Beat Takeshi, Sonny Chiba, Akira Kurosawa, The Sega Dreamcast, and heaven splitting swords. These are our powers of crushing sagas. This is who we are, not who we aren't or won't not become should we fail or succeed!

I have witnessed this prosperity among us all. We have flowered strongly and bloodthirstily into awesome shelters of hope! So sharpen your stomach slashing blades, strap on your finest straw hat, and pack a box-lunch for we march on the barbarian capital in 2008, the year of the sweating dog! Bukkakemasu!!!

-RaiNny

Throwing is the new rolling

Defending Your Like

Salvagebar reads some spooky shit

OMGDIDYOUSEETHATCRASH *splortch*

What is a bus guide?

running > fighting

Johnny Lee, I Salute You

helloooo

Equal parts cute and weird

Do I look like I give good advice?

Kenya: A cesspool of guns, violence, and transactional sex--I LOVE IT!

I work with overpaid, officious bitches

Why does the airport hate me?

Life

Who has anger control issues?

The Terror. The Terror.

That extra dimension makes all the difference

Why being homeless would be AWESOME

HK_Newbie b-day extravaganza!

Mario, What the hell happened to you?

What is it you DO?

I have a debilitating disease

Oh, you crazy co-workers

Some Points of Interest

300 makes me sleepy

Story of my life

Urinals Hate Me

Question: How Messed up are the Japanese?

The greatest invention ever

Praise the lord, Pass the ammo

muahahaha...

A day of work: Newbie Style

RIP

Aikido, bitches!

Where Is Doc

Who rocks the body that rocks the house that...rocks..the...oh, fuck it.

A recent adventure

Guess Who?

insomnia's new toy...

After seeing something like this...

Song about me!!!!!

HK_Newbie's Grandmammy

HK_Newbie Goes Clubbin', skydiving, and bullet dodging

Review of The Deftones "Hole In The Earth".

actually...

Super Secret Video of Calamity in the Philippines!!!

poll time!!!

Newbie goes Drinking

An Investigative Report: Drunken Crazies

Why must I identify so closely with this?

More Photoshop Phun!!!

HK_Newbie's new friends

Photoshop Phun!!!

Hickeys suck!

HK_Newbie Maintains a professional attitude at work. Part 1.

A response: 5 Reason Why you should Dig Doc (a.k.a. HK_Newbie)

The Bar's podcast

an e-mail from jonthe69er to one of his cohorts

No time for a title

More

More Vids

HK_Newbie Goes positively Nutters

Funny Vids

Even more fun!!!

Fun!!!

Newbie's theory regarding the WORLD

Improving upon perfection, Part 1.

The end is nigh.

Art Fags!!!

William Blake was a ninja

Korean girls are hot and...

I'm losing touch with reality

Spring Break Plans

Tom Cruise is the worst actor ever. And he's stuck in the closet.

Gking's amazing stupendous adventure in Existential and anti-material freedom

Restaurant Review

Imagine a legion of locusts attacking the enemy...

Kendo

Musicians

The Cure

OMGDIDYOUSEETHATCRASH splortch