So on May 28th I'm finally going to don another cap and gown and receive a diplama from Southern Connecticut State University, home of the most respected of all nocturnal birds, the Owls.

My question is when you bastards on the left coast are going to come back here to help me celebrate this momentous occaison by getting sloppy drunk.  Let me know.

So I haven't posted in a while...I suppose this may be the right time. For once the most interesting stuff on this site aren't the comics.

I think I'm still friends with everyone in this group, cause I've stayed out of all the politics that people seem to love to drag into their friendships. Lio...I gotta say that I've known you for a long, long time. You're my friend. This business with Bean may upset you, but the bottom line is, if that's what it took for you to forget about that certian 'female' then I'm glad it happened. It's just reality that she's not the one for you, and while it might have been shitty for him to do what he did, knowing what he did, but the end result is that maybe the point was driven home to you that you don't belong with her.

As far as this business with Wilson's ex, thats always been a gray area as far as I'm concerned. I mean she is his ex...as in, not good enough to be his current girlfriend for whatever reason. So theoretically he shouldn't have any problem with her sleeping with anyone. The reality, however, is that is comes across as a shitty thing to do, as you found out with Bean. It's just one of those unwritten things that you should know better than to do, I guess. You don't fuck someone your friend is trying to fuck, and you don't fuck your friends ex without his endorsement, or six months, whichever comes first.

So I suppose maybe we learned something from this...let's all be straightforward. Lio, if you're pissed that Bean fucked the girl you were trying to fuck, then say, "I'm pissed because Bean fucked a girl I was trying to fuck." Don't go into all this melodrama about loyalty and not mention names...say it. And if you're upset that Caniprokis won't talk to you because you feel it was none of his business, then say that too. Don't hold back, or you'll end up bottling all that shit inside and seething in your basement. (Ahem) That's not good for anyone.

I guess I just want to say that these goings-on are life...this shit happens. Maybe we can sort it out and move past it, maybe not. At any rate...It's really none of my business. I've heard only bits and pieces and not ever from the horse's mouth...so my judgements could really be based on bullshit. Oh well.

I think there are about 2 weeks left in this school year for me, and while I still have one more full semester to go, I've never felt to close to not having to go to school anymore for the first time in my life.  And it's kinda scary.  I don't know what in the world I'm going to be doing for a job when I'm done there, but I have to have some sort of full time thing by winter break of next semester in order to have medical insurance.  So it looks like one more semester and I'll be some kind of grown up or something.  I can't wait to be there, I suppose.  I don't really relish job hunting and going to interviews and freshening my resume and making phone calls, but I'd love to just have a job and go there every day and be paid reasonably for the work I do, and when I come home, I'm home.  No homework and no studying bullshit.  That's really my last gripe about school...fucking homework.  Right now I'm trying to plod through an 8 page paper for my Literary Analysis class. (You can't spell analysis without anal) I'm having the hardest time trying to get this bullshit paper out.  I'm a fifth year senior, with like a million credits and a specialization in creative writing in the english department, and I can't write this goddam thing.  I guess it just shows that my heart isn't in it anymore.  That's why I can't wait to get out of school...I like my job at the garage, and it's not because it's a garage and I'm a gearhead, it's simply because I get paid for my hours put in.  School takes my money, endlessly, and all I get is more busywork for my troubles.  No one there is helpful, they're cutting funding and staffing, cutting courses and availibility, raising tuition and prices at the book store, and all to go to a school that barely has a place for you to park.  You have to practically park in Brookside, New Haven's premier urban shooting gallery.  And there aren't always even spaces.  And heaven help you if you park on the grass, they'll ticket your ass.  Meanwhile, the city of New Haven paid a consulting company 400,000 beans to tell them they can use advertisements on the squad cars to save money.  Maybe that's what I'll do when I get out of Southern Connecticut State Penitentiary...I'll be a consultant.  Even when the economy is in the shitter, they're still making plenty of cash.  Bloody marvelous.

So I got this carburetor repair manual from a company called Rochester, who have been a division of General Motors from like the 30's to the present. Since like 1990, though, they have only made fuel injection stuff. So the book I have is from 1956, and it details the repair and rebuilding procedures for the carburetor on my old tow truck. So I was reading this the other day, and in the beginning of the book they explain the basic principles of a carburetor. To put it simply, a carburetor is the thingie on the engine that mixes the gas from the tank and air from the atmosphere, and this is what burns inside an engine. So in the book they have this dopey picture of these big fat while globs with the word 'air' on them and these little black globs with the word 'fuel' on them, and theyre jumping into this giant funnel. That's the technical diagram? Nevertheless, I read on, and the good people at General Motors went on to say that a carburetor must perform its duties in a multitude of conditions, from frigid temperatures to sweltering heat. To demonstrate the cold theory, the show a brand new 1952 Chevrolet driving apparently in northern Alaska, because it is being driven by eskimos, in full fur dress and hoods, who are waving to more eskimos dressed in the same fashion, and drawing the attention of yet another eskimo crawling out from an igloo. Did people really think that's what went on in Alaska in 1956? Eskimos would go hunt an elk for 3 days, skin and tan it's hide, then decide to crawl out of their igloo to go for a quick spin in their new Chevrolet? Then, to make things even more uncomfortable stereotypical, so show how it would work in hot temperatures, there is the same brand new 1952 Chevrolet with it's top down somewhere in the Middle East. The car is being driven and uccupied by several Arabs, all of them in traditional Middle Eastern dress, turban and cartoonish moustache and all. And once again, waving to a gentleman wearing a jockey's cap piloting a camel with a number on the side of it across the desert dunes. I know that as a society is doesn't look like we've advanced that far, especially in this time of censorship about the war, but I figured I'd just tell everyone about this little slice of history so show that we've at least come a little bit...I guess. Although I'm sure there are still plenty of people who think that this nonsense goes on...oh well.

I just wanna say fuck David.  The inventor of Porn should be given a posthumous Nobel Prize for his/her endeavors in the field of nakedness, lewd acts, and anal fisting, as stated by our good friend David.  I had no idea that last idea was such a popular act, however, he was interested in it so much that he gave us a statistic that undoubtedly came from many, many months of ahem intensive field research.  So let that be a lesson to all of us.  The next time you are fisting your gay lover, please, use plenty of lubricant.  I think that's what he's getting at.  I also think that his site should be brought to the attention of the FBI.  Lots of Davey boy's ideas are a little Taliban-esque.  So in closing, down with dry anal fisting, up with pornography, and I hope David is found to have gigs of child porn on his computer.  Thank you.  Suck my dick.

I guess I'm a graceful Yankee fan...but I'm not happy that they lost. I mean, they're my team...and therefore I want them to win. I've heard some people say that they're glad that the Yanks are out to give another team another chance. Fuck that...the fact that the Yankees have won so many World Series lately is only a reflection of how well they have played the game; and perhaps how poorly (Boston) many other teams have played. Baseball goes in cycles...if you've been watching it for any length of time you would know that. The talent on the Yankees have played well together for some time now. It just lined up that way. The way it did for the Braves in the early nineties, the way it did for the Athletic's in the eighties and the way it did for the Yankees in the late nineties. Sometimes you get a team like that. They don't have a monopoly on baseball. The last two years should serve as a pretty good example for that. So lets end the anti-Yankee crap, shall we?

I've had it with all this ant-Yankee rhetoric bullshit.  You bad mouth a team when they suck, right? So they win and play well and do well, and you still bad mouth them.  You people who harbor such hatred for the Yankees must lead the most miserable lives.  I can understand rooting against the Yankees, I can understand not liking them for one reason or another, but I just don't get why you all hate them so much.

People unjustly slander the Yankees because "They buy all their talent."  Or even, "They the best players from other teams."  This is ludicrous...the Yankees have so much home-grown talent on their team that they would be nothing without.  Let me drop a few names and you tell me if they sound familiar.  Bernie Williams, Derek Jeter, Alfonso Soriano, Andy Pettitte, Jorge Posada, Juan Rivera...these are all players that came up through the minor leagues in the Yankees farm system and were not purchased from another team.  However, there are a few players that were purchased from other teams and became who they are today because of the Yankees, such as Paul O'Neill, David Wells, Scott Brosius and Mariano Rivera, to name just a few.  The Yankees have one of the best coaching staffs in baseball right now, and it's not because of the amount of money they paid for them.  You put all this together, and you combine an owner like George Steinbrenner who isn't afraid to spend money on real talent, and you get a winning team.  It's true that in the past Steinbrenner has made mistakes, but you can't fault the guy for wanting to win.

In closing, I'd like you all to shut the fuck up with all this Yankee hating.  I want them to get to the World Series.  I want them to win the World Series.  Do you know why?  Because I'm a Yankee fan, and that's what I do.  I root for my team to beat other teams.  It doesn't matter that they're won it a lot before, and that some of you whiners think that "Its someone else's turn" to win the series.  That's a bunch of bullshit.  You root for your team even though it's doing shitty, so why when it's doing well would you give up on it and say that it's someone else's turn?  You wouldn't.  So go fuck yourselves, and Go Yanks.

To be perfectly honest, If I had won 2 tickets in the pre-order lottery, you can bet that at $500 a pop, they'd be up on Ebay that afternoon, and I'd be waiting for the DVD to come out.

It coulda been...but my hat is white and was turned around, and my glasses were already in my pocket. Close, though.

Some poet once said of poems that the largest events in our lives, the ones that seem most apt to have a poem written about them, will always produce a shitty poem. Not necessarily those words, but that was the gist. I think the same holds true for a movie on the WTC. So for all of you big name movie producers in Hollywood who read this site, don't do it Skippy, don't do it.

I'd just like to thank everyone who came last night for my birthday. It's really nice to be surrounded by all of your friends and just have a good time. Id also like to apologize for my absence at Lio's house later in the evening, there was a small emergency created that I had to deal with and ended up not being able to have been there. Anyhow, thanks again, guys, for being there and for your cards and gifts. You really did make it a Happy Birthday.

It's the Mustang lifestyle, man. Wild, footloose and fancy-free, and apparently broke as hell. I wonder if Ford should adopt that as their Mustang campaign...

Lio, I can no longer keep up this paltry sham of an existence that I have been living. It is time to come clean. So, I think it only fair of me to tell you that once, in 1972, when you were passed out backstage at a Jethro Tull concert, I allowed Ian Anderson to sodomize you with his flute for an autographed copy of Aqualung. Sorry man, you can have the album, if it will make you feel any better.

You think you know someone after sharing that extra-special ghost hunting bond. Ffeh.

Thank you, suck my dick, Goodnight!

Thought this might be of interest...

SuperHappyFunSite!

The internet is a weird, wild place.

Happy Birthday Caniprokis!!! Love ya bro.

I know what you're all thinking. Holy shit! Tim is alive! Well, I have one thing to say to that. Ffeh.

I hate finals. In particular, I hate not going to class, then feeling bad about not going, then not feeling bad enough to make me want to go, and then doing all my assignments for said class in the last 2 weeks. Also, I hate computer science *professors* who teach us about dot-matrix printers and LCD displays on your brandy-new TI-82. And I reallllly fucking hate the same teacher telling me, an English major, that I don't structure my business letters correctly and that my mail merge didn't work.

On the upside, I do love seeing people I graduated with. I saw Katy Bradley in the supermarket the other day, and mah-oh-mah she got fat. Speaking of which, I'd be willing to bet that Super Paul won't organize a damn thing outside of an ultimate frisbee game on his front lawn and we're all going to get letters from Big Jen about our 5th, and there's going to be a list of unfound people, including, but not limited to, Graig Judge, Kevin Brushett, Sarah Rothermel, Jeff Manfredonia and Jamie Arcand, for you old timers like me.

At any rate, I have to get back to my british poetry paper, which I have titled "Do It Yourself Eunuch." Not really, but I'll bet that would be a damn good paper.

I'm just wondering if it's okay to get drunk with your dad on a Thursday night. Discuss.

I think that all men who abuse women should be locked up in a prison like the one in the Shawshank Redemption. Fuck that Hilton otherwise knows as Oz...they need to go to places with tiny cells made of stone with actual bars on the windows and doors, a place where the inmates rape you and the guards beat you up. A place where you can't go outside 10 months of the year because there's too much snow on the ground. A place where you can't trust the food, a place where you can't trust your cell mate, a place where you can't trust your own mind to stay sane. I want a place well out of health code, a place infested with rats and cockroaches, a place where you may just end up dead before breakfast. I want them to spend of their lives suffering, but if they have to be put to death because of what they have done, then a lifetime of suffering has to packed into one act. And fuck the idea of cruel and unusual punishment. That is a right for real Americans, as soon as you violated someone's right to happiness by beating the shit out of them, then you throw your own rights out the window. Bring brack drawn and quartering, having ants slowly eat his head, old school torture techniques. Thats what I want for men who abuse women. Thank you.

Yo Yo Arcee...Happy 20th Birthday, I'm giving you permission to go get completely trashed this weekend. You're welcome.