Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in David and Gil's LiveJournal:

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Monday, January 17th, 2005
10:20 am	A lot of ladies & Gents have made new year's resolutions to get "fit." Well, then here are some rules for you GENTS when you are in the gym: 1. Stop ogling the girls. It is human nature to look at beautiful things, and the more beautiful they are, the more you want to look. But come on - show some respect. Get a look, go back to whatever it is you were doing. 2. Stop ogling the girls. Seriously. Stop. I know you're a beast and have only six braincells, every one of them tasked with thinking about boobie. But for chrissake, have some decency, you jarhead. You're making them uncomfortable. 3. Stop ogling the girls. Yes, it's THAT bad a problem that I have to say it again. 4. Flex in the mirror at home. Sure, you need the mirror to watch your performance as you lift. And yeah, it's really cool to see yourself as you are all pumped and stuff... but must you do a full pose-down in the presence of everyone there? 5. If you sweat a lot, carry a towel. Wipe down the equipment you use. It's just respectful. No one wants to lay in your salty perspiration - if we did, we'd just walk up to you, turn around, and rub our backs on you like a bear would a tree. 6. Wash your goddamned clothes once in a while. Please. 7. If you cannot bench 315 lbs, don't get your buddy to sit there and "spot" you while the ladies pass by just so you can rattle the plates. Really, this one isn't too huge a deal - you want to damage yourself, fine by me - you're an idiot and deserve the pain. It's just frustrating to sit there and watch you trying to showboat for a crowd what doesn't give a shit. 8. If you don't know how to use a machine or do a certain exercise - ask a staff member or someone doing the exercise to teach you a bit about the equipment and routine. 9. However, don't go asking in the middle of a set. It's called "lane courtesy" and it's a term borrowed from bowling. While someone is concentrating on working out, don't go bugging them. 10. Unless your name is Lee Haney, Arnold Schwarzenegger or Joe Weider, don't give unsolicited lifting advice - Unless you see someone who's risking SERIOUSLY hurting themselves. And even then, be polite about it. 11. Just because she's female does NOT mean she needs or wants you to spot her. Leave her alone and go back to your machine, Randy Pan. 12. The treadmill is NOT the place for a race. Eyes down or straight forward - let other people have what little privacy is afforded them by line-of-sight displays. 13. A Hypothetical situation: let's say there's 5 exercise machines in a group. For the purposes of this discussion, assume the leftmost is #1 and the rightmost is #5, with #2, #3 and #4 falling where you'd logically assume they would. If I am on machine #1 and there is NO ONE ELSE ON ANY OTHER MACHINE, do NOT get on machine #2. Especially if you haven't been following rule #6. 14. Wear a goddamned shirt, you fucking prima donna. 15. To clarify: Shirts consist of a torso and sleeves. If you've cut off half the torso to show your abs, you've failed at rule 14. Same if you've cut off the sleeves. And if you've EVER spent money on a spaghetti-thin single strip of cloth that goes over each shoulder and meets a 2" wide peice of fabric around your waist, you're a disgrace to humanity and should IMMEDIATELY proceed to the vascectomy clinic to save the human race from your spawn. 16. SHUT THE FUCK UP. No one cares what you bench, used to bench, will be benching, etc. and so forth. Write it in a journal at the gym, and if you really need to talk about it, read it aloud to yourself when you get home. 17. Grunting is understandable and ok - yelling is not. Quit trying to draw attention to your Herculaean efforts by screaming like a banshee. That is all, ~David (Comment on this)
Monday, December 20th, 2004
1:07 pm	The honour roll gangstaz "Ladies and gentlemen, People with jobs, People without jobs, Middle class, Upper class, High class, all dat, Cats, snakes, chickens, ducks, Elderly people and twerkers, I presentz to you............................" It is clear from the "in your face" MTV hits and the droning radio top 20 charts that Hip Hop has become the dominant culture. From the days of yore of the "Cash Money Ho" formula much has changed -- the evolution continues and it doesn't take a cryptologist to make a corroborated empirical observation. I have revised my theories: observe. {clenches pen between teeth, rolls up sleeves, opens can of a God's nector: diet coke} From the middleclass White Jewish boys with their country club visors flipped up mouthing words *NOT* found in the Torah, to the middle school "thugz" browsing the Crest Complete tooth whitening kits at Target, preoccupied with "PIMPING their grills," the trend is clear. Hip Hop is NEW HOTNESS(TM). I know what you're saying. "Get your nose out of a case book, loosen your tie, let your hair down, pump your pelvis and groove with the hot beats, deragatory lyrics, and attitude propaganda." Yeah of course I do that, but what bothers me is those that start to live it.... A riced up Honda with european style tailights zooms past me and the license plate reads "C Dogg," inside the whitest of white boys, bearing a shade close to that of sour cream can be seen nodding to a beat so tumultuous and loud that it causes my heart to palpitate. Is this a modern day "Nugga" in the hip hop sense? He refers to his "brothers" as nuggas, and yes he does recline his seat *all* the way back when he's sippin' his gin and juice. He would have none other than Tupac Shakur on his turquoise iPOD mini, which by the way he purchased online after mail in rebate. Notwithstanding...this chap is no ordinary chap, he's what I have termed an "honour roll gangsta." Yes, yes he is! His mother drives a Honda Odyssey with a bumper *stinker* that reads: "My son or daughter is an Honour Roll student at XYZ High School." Wow, if only his pimped out friends could see him now? His mother purchased a cute, economical, silver Honda for him to take his friends to McDonalds, yet he takes his allowance, aka drug money, to pimp it out with neon lights, spiked license plate rings, PHAT rims which blind the elderly even when they are wearing those CYCLOPS sun visors. Cubic zirconia is a good substitute for bling, and this guy "owns the streets." Suburban gangsta warfare!!! Who has the hotter rims? Whose mom purchased the latest rap cd for them? That is how they "THROW IT DOWN" May as well scream "YOU GOT SERVED!!!" after Acing his AP Biology final at the proctor. Give me a break! Enjoy the music, embrace the culture, it's exciting, it's different, it's fun, but leave your "thugin'" at the door. Forget your grill, leave your cash money in the piggy bank or a conservative Roth IRA, and listen to your music at a reasonable decible when appropriate. Don't cause trouble, don't be a social recluse in the name of being "bad." Just remember that even "gangstas" have pension plans. As for me? I like the occasional Lil Wayne, but I'll throw my top down, rev my engine and bounce to a little hillary duff now and again. You don't see me dressing in Britney Spears' clothing line, and wearing J-Lo perfume do you? I'm not screaming "JUSTIN!!!!" with the 13yr olds at concerts, and my cell phone casing is not pink. Sure, I might get some hello kitty ear muffs for my ski trip in February, but that's just fashion ladies...****understand**** that. David (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, November 8th, 2003
12:49 pm	Food for thought... To our loyal readers, Just thought I'd share something I came accross while reading Esquire magazine. It was on the "Esquire 70" list, which was their list of 70 things that made them very happy to be alive today: #32: The U.S. Postal Service - now more than ever. I don't find it beautiful because of nostalgia. It's beautiful because it works so well and costs so little. I know that postal workers kill one another occasionally and that not ever section of every large urban area enjoys the same level of service, but I've lived all over the U.S., in places large and small, and I've never had any problem with my mail. Thirty-seven cents. You hand a homeless guys thirty-seven cents, he'll hock a loogy on your shoe. You hand the United States thirty-seven cents and it'll tote your shit three thosand miles in a matter of days and deliver it by hand - and yet folks piss and moan when they raise the rate three stinking cents? Where's the love? And where's the Nobel prize for the dude who came up with the term ZIP code? Pure poetry. -Scott Raab Peace in, Gil (Comment on this)
Saturday, September 27th, 2003
3:03 am	It's been quite a while. This live journal site has been collecting dust in my favorites folder for many months now -- it's time to reach out to our devoted fans, (who have most likely taken up a life of crime) and give them something to gnaw on...something new, something fresh, and something a little lewd: Musical Interlude: Many moons ago, Gil and I decided to collaborate our collective genius (shut your cake hole!) and begin a live journal of a "new breed." Vested in us, the power of humour and the light hearted audacity to make inflammatory comments, we pursued our endeavour solely on granola and pop tarts. Banded together with a cast of members who are, trust me on this, TOO funny to be fictional: A crazy Russian whose sole purpose in life is to persuade women he is their gift while balancing a beer in one hand and a long list of one-liners in the other (babin). A crazy skinny little jew whose aerodynamically gifted in the shnoz area [that's you and I gil ;-)]. A strange old chap who was graced with the gift of a thank you letter post shaved ape shagging. A sorry fellow who pissed himself more than on one occasion during pre-intoxication activities...check the pics :-D A red-headed pathetic excuse for humanity, who loves to talk smack, but lost his virginity to a mechanical bull: ( http://mywebpages.comcast.net/matt1021/matt-bull-combo-big.jpg )...and many, many more. As my fellow Jewish brother from another mother profesized earlier: "The times are a-changin'" BUT, life is too interesting to let it pass us by. So, if my fellow oppressed, financially inclined, genetically gifted, Son of Abraham will oblige, let's document this crazy life, from OUR perspective...uncensored, that means no preferential treatment to any one particular party -- no matter the bribe (please send donations to P.O. Box 26874... (L'Shina Tovah!) By the way, this isn't a forum for preaching or "reflecting." No, that is gay, you want to do that? Go start your OWN livejournal, it's cheaper than a psychologist. This journal will continue as it has in it's sweet years: a vivid imagery of life's complicated tapestry, a hint of humour, a touch of wit, and copious amounts of nude photographs...ok, perhaps no nude photographs unless of course Gil is hiring interns. See you in content delivering cyberspace... Mazel Tov, David...dead on. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, August 9th, 2003
6:23 pm	Halfway point... So it's a lovely Saturday afternoon here in Schaumburg, IL and instead of enjoying the weather outside today (a balmy 74 degrees and sunny), I'm sitting inside doing something completely contrary to the mood otherwise dictated by the weather. I'm being nostalgic and mooping... As always, I signed on AIM here at Tony's house and was checking everyone's away messages and seeing who's online. But this ceased the moment I came across Aaron's profile (mad props go out to you Aaron, for maintaining and keeping this site up), and clicked on the link to his picture archive of our last 2 college years (http://deriva.antilogic.net/umich/). Ordinarily (and what is usually the case) it never affects me. But now being summer and away from my U of M peeps and all, and just realizing that all of us have started to go in our different directions (even if it just means living in separate houses across campus), it hit me harder than usual. Now the point of this entry is not to sound mopey or whiny, like many other people's diary entires are. On the contrary, it is just to express my gratitude to all of you that have made these past 2 years so enjoyable and for reminding that some things in life are really worth living for. To all of you, I say thank you and wish you all the best with your next 2 years... Expect another entry similar to this one my senior year. -Gil Current Mood: nostalgic (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, April 13th, 2003
11:55 pm	In the spirit of true pessimism... I recently had a conversation with a friend who happened to tell me about the lack of love in her life and at one point in the conversation, she was relaying to me how she was talking to her best friend's mom. She had called up his mom and started off the conversation by crying and claiming that "boys are stupid", to which the mother replied "It took you this long to figure that out?" Now, I am not here to judge or give a definitive answer on the question of whether boys are stupid or not (although we clearly do have moments of lapses in judgment, to say the least), but I would like to call your attention to another simple, but interesting fact. Isn't it interesting how boys stupid boys AREN'T when you are dating them or when things are going fine with them? Thus, this leads me to my general pessimistic theory on the sexes: When relationships with the opposite sex are not going well, the other party is generally pronounced "stupid". In all other cases, you are simply in denial of their true nature... -Gil (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, November 17th, 2002
4:44 am	Best run, in quite some time. My plane landed around 7pm. After approximately 4 hours of sitting behind a 60 year-old man who had the worst case of A.D.D. I have seen YTD, I was greeted with smiles and open arms. After much catching up, and nostalgic stories from the days of yore, the clock struck midnight and I laced up my distance flats. Armed with a CoolMax wick t-shirt, and Nike air double mid-sole cushioned shoes, I trekked out of the gate and onto the open road for a 4.8mile venture. As my muscles warmed and my body cooled, I acclimated to the familiar pounding of my feet against asphalt. The slight jarring thump of a full cadence stride was all too familiar, and I felt...I felt..."home" again. Cool air -- dry to the taste -- with a sandy texture and an outback scent filled my famished lungs. At the 2mi. marker I glanced overhead at a full moon reflecting the sun's rays onto the street – my street – illuminating my path as if someone had switched a nightlight in the sky to observe my run. At that very sight, at that very breath, at that very beat, I knew – with the greatest conviction of my life, that I am the happiest I have ever been, and luckiest person alive. -Dav Current Mood: grateful Current Music: Metallica - Unforgiven II (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, September 26th, 2002
10:23 pm	Kroger, America's finest commercial institution. I understand that Kroger probably is not accepting applicants to their marketing department, nor are they interested in what I have to say regarding their breadth of products or lack thereof. However, with my Venti-Skimless-Double Mocha-one shot caramel-foamless-two sugar-al dente-café italiano-leche-latte in hand, I will make an attempt to list a few of the products that ought to proudly display the brand of "Kroger" on them. I know, you are probably confused, baffled, dumbfounded, or clueless as to where I find such a topic. But in my humblest of opinions there ARE certain products that Kroger ought to market as a "Kroger Brand product," and I intend to express them; these products are listed in order of importance, and are as follows: 1.The Kroger Brand home pregnancy test. If the Kroger logo comes up pink you are fine; if the Kroger logo comes up blue, and has a picture of a little devil on it – well, you are screwed (pun intended). What is more, you will find coupons for Kroger brand diapers and aspirin inside the box. {I believe Kroger actually has its own brand of pregnancy test – now THAT is simply disturbing} 2. Kroger brand dental care (with Kroger brand in-house specialists working around the clock) – because you deserve only the BEST in professionally administered dental treatment. 3. The Kroger brand automobile. I don’t know about you, but I think your sixteen-year-old teen would be the talk of the town if he/she pulled up in his/her NEW Kroger brand auto, equipped with the FINEST in Kroger brand anti-lock breaking, power steering, and heating and cooling. Free Twinkie included with every two-year lease, no money down. Comes with all Kroger brand safety features...don't you trust your life to Kroger? 4. Kroger brand contraceptives. Because nothing says you care like a Kroger brand condom. Oh YES, "Krogered for her pleasure." 5. Kroger brand thong. The finest in Vietnamese sweatshop manufactured fabric with a double twill ribbon proudly displaying the Kroger (TM) logo. Optional is the full threaded thong with the full rear fabric: because when you first pick it up it says: "Kr" but when you put it on it says: "Kroger, the brand you love, the brand you trust!" 6. Kroger brand prostitutes. What!? Surprised!? Why pay FULL price for one of those "name brand" hoes when you could find great values at Kroger? With a vast selection and reasonable prices, Kroger brand hizzies are an everyday value! On double coupon days stop by and receive two for the price of one. LEGAL DISCLAIMER: The preceding names and ideas expressed hitherto shall not be subject to legal culpability. Any names, implications, or affiliations with any non-fictional companies, products, or services rendered, are strictly contingent, and not intended to be slanderous. --David (i)innovating since 1921(i) P.S. Please feel free to leave comments with your own Kroger brand ideas...what's stopping you? Integrity!? bah! Current Mood: geeky (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, September 20th, 2002
11:52 pm	Life... "Life isn't about keeping score. It's not about how many people call you and it's not about who you've dated, are dating, or haven't dated at all. It isn't about who you've kissed, what sport you play, or which guy or girl likes you. It's not about your shoes or your hair or the color of your skin or where you live or go to school. In fact, it's not about grades, money, clothes, or colleges that accept you or not. Life isn't about if you have lots of friends, or if you are alone, and it's not about how accepted or unaccepted you are. Life just isn't about that. But life is about who you love and who you hurt. It's about how you feel about yourself. It's about trust, happiness, and compassion. It's about sticking up for your friends and replacing inner hate with love. Life is about avoiding jealousy, overcoming ignorance, and building confidence. It's about what you say and what you mean. It's about seeing people for who they are and not what they have. Most of all, it is about choosing to use your life to touch someone else's in a way that could never have been achieved otherwise. These choices are what life's about." --David Current Mood: calm Current Music: Fugees - Killing me softly (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, September 12th, 2002
1:54 pm	Some people should just bite their tongue... I would just like to take this opportunity to express my complete and utter disgust and bitch out the spokesperson of the Hamas, Abdel Aziz Rantisi, who currently resides in Gaza. In a recent interview, he was quoted to have said, "Aggression against Islam will lead to the same events, the same accidents, that happened on the eleventh of September." Now, there is something to be said for preventing backlash against Islam and assuring that the war on terrorism is not viewed as a war or action against Islam, but I personally (and I think I’m not alone) was VERY offended when the term "accidents" was used in conjunction with the September 11th events. Clearly, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the events were anything but accidents. Moreover, where does the spokesperson of Hamas, a prominent terrorist organization, get off calling the September 11th events accidents? Does anyone else see the hypocrisy in that? I have many opinions and views on Middle Eastern affairs, but I always attempt to hold myself to the following maxim: regardless of whether you agree or disagree with the opinions/views of another, one should always respect them. To call the September 11th events an accident is, in some ways, almost as heinous a crime as the acts committed. This was one slip of the tongue which should not have been made and in my opinion would definitely warrant an apology... If you guys have any comments on the matter, please feel free to offer them and click the comment button on the bottom here... -Gil Current Mood: angry Current Music: Rammstein - Engel (2 Comments |Comment on this)
11:15 am	My sixth sense... I see stupid people...they're everywhere...they walk around like everyone else...they don't even know that they are stupid. The majority of them live in Florida, but I see them, I see them often, THEY'RE AMONGST US! They come to the fishbowl and sit in the Consultant's area despite the six foot sign titled "Consultants." They ask how to spell such simple words as 'consequence' and 'portrayal.' They come to the bank unprepared and then proceed to search through their cluttered purses. They make left hand turns WITHOUT entering the yellow lane! They knock on your door at 10am on a Sunday morning and ask "Hey, is your phone working? I wanted to know if the phones were working." They stand in line at Amer's for 15 minutes and when it is their time to order, only THEN do they initiate "the decision process." They try to speak with you when you are listening to your mp3 player, or on the telephone. They point at their wrist when asking for the time. "I know where my watch is bud. Do I point at my crotch when I ask where the bathroom is?" They come to a HALF EMPTY movie theater, sit RIIIIIIIGHT next to you, put their arm on your arm rest, their liquid refreshment in YOUR cupholder, and while watching the movie ask, "Did you see that!?" No dumbass, I paid $8.00 to come to the theater and stare at the damn ceiling!!!!!! They crowd around you and breathe in your space. They approach you at Target, while you're peacefully shopping, and ask, "excuse me sir, do you work here?" They leave the bathroom while failing to wash their hands. They sit in the bathroom for half an hour drying their hands with the blow dryer when there is paper tower readily available. They step directly in front of you and stop walking. They shout to someone across the room when they are RIGHT next to your ear. They put the lids back down on the printers after you have lifted them, and informed them that PRINTING IS OFFLINE! They ask you the time in the middle of the street, and you are forced to point to THE BELL FUCKING TOWER!!!! That is all, -Dav- Current Mood: apathetic Current Music: Everclear - "Rock Star" (Comment on this)
Tuesday, September 10th, 2002
4:19 pm	The theoretical limitations of the "Nod." Considered by some to be a universal sign of approval or an informal greeting, the "Nod" is a puzzling yet effective sign of acknowledgment. When two individuals see one another one initiates the "Nod" while the other acknowldges the other's "Nod" by physically articulating his/her own "Nod." Confused yet? As am I. It appears to be a social phenomenon stemming from ancient forms of "Nods" put forth by our proverbial ancestor: The Monkey. Yes, take it as utter truth or utter gospel at your own will, but the primordial Monkey was issuing "Nods" even before man could even conceive of the “Nod.” This morning I was treading towards the staircase when I saw a fellow neighbor. The neighbor issued a "Nod" so as to acknowledge my presence. In return, and without rational aforethought I too issued a "Nod." However, in hindsight what did that "Nod" presuppose? Was the neighbor merely giving me a non-verbal "good morning?" Or perhaps he was approving my action of going down the staircase. Do I honestly believe that he awoke this morning with the sole intention of nodding at the first person he encountered!? No, when all else fails employ Okham's Razor, the simplest explanation is often the correct explanation. QED: It was early in the morning, human contact/communication in the morning is not preferable. Seeing as we are neighbors it would have been impolite to disregard one another, so the logical conclusion here is that the "Nod" served as a polite method of non-verbal communication. I have learned something today, the "Nod" is an effective means of communication. It is more so defensive than the "hello", because if a "hello" is said and the other party fails to respond, the initiator of the "hello" feels foolish. The "Nod" however, is more subtle, if the other party does not return the "Nod", which he/she is compelled to do because it is an instant reaction to nod in return, the initiating party comes away unscathed because the initial nod is not as open or forthright as the "hello." What is more, the "Nod" appears to be a greeting implying disinterest in blatant conversation. If a "Nod" is issued, the issuer of the "Nod" is probably not interested in making small talk. Thus, never attempt to initiate conversation after an exchange of the "Nod" because it could lead to catastrophic consequences. --David (Nod) Current Mood: thirsty (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, September 8th, 2002
3:02 am	What if life were lived backwards!!!!!! What if life WERE indeed lived backwards? I think Carlin put it best: "The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A death. What's that, a bonus? I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way. Then you live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you're too young, you get a gold watch, you go to work. You work forty years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You drink, you party, you get ready for high school. You go to grade school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last nine months floating...then you finish off as an orgasm." P-E-R-F-E-C-T!!!!! --David (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, September 2nd, 2002
3:10 am	There are just times in life, when I think it's really cool that "tomorrow's another day". No hassles, no carry-overs from yesterday - just another day. So in case you are having a bad day, or ever have a bad day, just remember that tomorrow's another day...(it works for me :) ) -Gil Current Music: Peace Orchestra - The Man (Part Two) (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, August 14th, 2002
2:18 am	Adventures in Schaumburg. I woke up one morning, packed my things, flew to Schaumburg in a Boeing 737 next to a woman with an excessive case of A.D.D., and pressed palms with my best bud Gil. I know you expect me to write a post on my adventures so I haven't a choice but to oblige. And here's my story... ...eggs over easy with Paul and I was airborne – flying over Michigan and into Illinois (where I sampled suburbia at its finest). Apart from sharing a row with a woman who hadn't the decency to sit still for even a moment, the flight into O'Hare went well and the landing was smooth. I met Gil @ baggage claim, we hopped in the van, screeched the tires, and blasted 92.7 FM -- the exclusive dance channel for Schaumburg. Caught in a bit of traffic on the interstate we made our way to the Woodfield Mall, supposedly the second largest mall in the country. Gil and I bet where the ladies are cuter, Phoenix or Chicago, I still hold onto Phoenix, but Chicago is nothing to take lightly....damn!!! Gil and I toured the mall for a bit until we saw a group of adolescent girls congregating on the lower level. As it turns out, they were there to see the A*Teens. I am ashamed to say this, but I know of this band and have actually enjoyed a number of their songs. I wanted an autograph but Gil made an executive VETO!!! Apart from touring the city and taking in the breadth of white suburbia, we had scheduled plans, some of which included going to downtown Chicago on the tram, and meeting Gil's friends from High School @ benihana’s....I suppose I will go into detail now. First and foremost I have to extend a thank you to: Matt, Tony, Ben, *Missy* (don’t worry missy, I promised I would mention you a COUPLE of times, I'll come through for you *wink*) April, Jeremy, David, Brian, Sam, Joe, Jenny (NEW HOTNESS!!!), and Ben's sister, one fiiiiiiiiine lizadie! *wink* Sorry for the minority of you whose names have slipped my mind. You guys really made the trip worth it, thanks again for the good times. (Brian, I left your card in my shirt and accidentally washed it...want to send me another?) First night is was off to see Signs. I nearly shat my pants being the chicken I am, but at least I kept my eyes and ears open during the entire movie...unlike SOME individuals who shall remain nameless...ahem...cough, cough....GIL! I'll admit, I wish I had a night light that first night =D. Thanks TONY! For grabbing my arm in the middle of an intensely frightening scene thereby causing me to squeal like a school girl!! Second day Gil and I were off to Ikea to scope out the cute....uh...furniture, yeah that's it. We maxed out on the leather sofas in our pseudo living room and opened all of the kitchen cabinets in the pseudo-kitchens. That is one kick ass store! I have to get some of those lamps for my next apartment. Harassed Matt, a fellow employee of Ikea, and gawked at the Swedish food. Only in Ikea will you find bed frames named FARFICKNOOGEN. Third night was Benihana's for some great food, and even better company. Meeting *missy* <------ see that missy, I STAR your name, and Jeremy, and a ton of other people whose names are too numerous to commit to memory. After some excellent food it was off to the pool hall to inhale some second hand smoke and shoot some pool. A lot of fun there, losing as usual albeit with STYLE! Tony, it was a pleasure making jokes and taunting you for being such a religious man, but through and through you rock at pool and none of my religion jokes will ever take that away from you – thanks for the good times man. (By the way, I get all of my EFA, essential fatty acids, from pop tarts! If it is good enough for Afghanistan, it is good enough for me ). Then, as we so frequently did, we went to Tony's house to watch movies on the entertainment center. I think you may have already concluded that this is being written in stream of consciousness so I wish to randomly thank a name that just popped into my mind: Amanda – thank you Amanda for putting up with our tasteless jokes =P. Then, the following day it was up an adam at the ass crack of dawn for destination: DOWNTOWN CHICAGO! Hands down the highlight of the trip and everyone with me could attest to that...*wink* missy. From the first hop from Medina to Union station the conductor came around to sell tickets. "The University of Michigan is NOT a HIGH SCHOOL!!!!!" LMAO Whence I discovered that the student discount applied only to high schools I had the audacity to try and pass my ID as a student ID. As you read from the quote that did not go over well with the conductor. LOL Pulling into Union Station we initially toured the city taking copious amounts of pictures. We hit the CBOE and the Chicago Trading building, gawked at the bonds and options traders at my request, thanks guys for agreeing to it. Later on we played on the escalators and met up with Brian. Soon after it was off to find the restaurant for the best Chicago-style pizza I have had year to date. Apart from watching a mattress commercial and bass fishing on the boob tube during dinner we had an intellectually stimulating conversation. I ate so much I could swear my air passageways were being obstructed by deep dish pizza. Oh, and definitely a plus seeing Missy pick the cheese of the tray and then proceed to pick at it, missy you know you rock! Oh and April telling me that I am some Russian speaking cat...from some movie...Cats & Dogs....? After lunch it was a trek across town to the Navy Pier to people watch, chat, and come up with names for boats – I still love my name: The Admiral. And Gils: Sex on the lake. The Lake Michigan coast is beautiful, and the ladies are even better *wink*...speaking of Missy and April, naturally . Then, off to Dick's Last Resort for some fine dining and napkin throwing, getting sticky palmed by Missy – DAMN IT! MY NECK IS STILL STICKY! and singing pseudo karaoke. Also, seeing those ladies with the hats, one of which said "The Health Department close my legs" LMFAO!!!! And that one guy in the men's bathroom who desperately needed a condom. Gil was kind enough to lend him fifty cents to by a condom but the machine took his money without giving him his so called prize. The guy was pissed -- uttered some obscenities about his wife and left. We all had a great laugh afterwards, I laughed so hard I thought I was going to give birth. Our waitress ROCKED, despite the fact that she brought me my food with no DRESSING! Oh, and asking April if there was any amount of alcohol in this world that would get her to sleep with Ben...that was funny. Oh, and a special bow to Ben for getting with those ladies across the table. A stern glance for having beer spilled on him and then having to pay for it . After that it was off to Union Station and a pit stop to look at a photo gallery which was SIMPLY STUNNING! Nearly passing out from fatigue on the tram and yet again laughing aloud about random events...Crystal Method blasting in the van with the "FAMILY".... The following afternoon, after waking up groggy, Gil and I went to Gaylord's. A SUPERB restaurant consisting of THE BEST Indian cuisine. I had never tried Indian cuisine and swore my heart to Asian as being the best food, but JESUS this was some of the best food I have had in my LIFE! I decided to go to the all you can eat lunch buffet (went all out, you know, when it rains it pours), and I watched Gil's eyes widen in horror as he saw me make a second trip to get not just a little of everything, but A LOT of everything. It felt a little odd that Gil and I were practically the only Caucasian people in the restaurant, but it is definitely a good sign when you see Indian people in an Indian restaurant. Just as you want to find where the Japanese go to get their sushi. I think I would fly into Schaumburg just for that restaurant alone. Apart from the outstanding food, the service was some of the best I have ever had. The little old Indian man gave me a specialty drink on the house – it consisted of some yogurt and freshly squeezed mango juice. In short, that was SOME GREAT FOOD!!!!! I think I might select it as a last meal =D After that, rented a movie and relaxed on the couch. Later on met up with some more friends… Next night it was off to the Streets of Woodfield for a plethora of eye candy. Sixteen year old girls and supped up sports cars, need I say more? On the last day we went to an Internet Café and to a place where Gil knows I LOOOOOOOOOVE! Yes, you guessed it, an ASIAN GROCERY STORE. Seeing as I love Asian food, I consequently love Asian supermarkets. We cruised the store, poked at some octopus and I bought some Japanese candy...and again...cough...cough...scoped the honnies...well I scoped them, Gil supervised =P. I also sampled some green juice, which I later found out to be some type of vegetable extract juice. It was quite good, tasted like something we would be drinking when the end of the world comes around and there is nothing left on Earth to drink – reminded me of soylent green. The man pouring the samples glared at me while I drank the juice as if I were drinking some poisonous fluid and he was curious to see what it would do to me. Oh, the market was called Mutsuwa. Then, I bid a farewell to my best bud, digested my Cajun lunch, and hopped on the next flight home. The flight was terrible; you would think the pilot was fresh out of flight school. At one point we lost attitude and altitude rather abruptly and the man sitting next to me, in an emergency exit mind you, grabbed my leg and squeezed it!!! I quickly glanced over at him and saw that he was staring straight at me in complete panic!!! I raised my hand as if to motion to him that everything was okay...that was an adventure...sheesh. Oh, and just to mention *Missy* one last time ;-P Ciao, David (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, July 28th, 2002
9:26 pm	David's Pragmatic Rules of Expediency: What NOT to do to get the girl. The majority of the following rules have been extrapolated from actual events, precise observation, word of mouth, and prior experience. These rules are explicit in content and shall be adhered to by the letter. I hold no responsibility in a reader's negligence, inanity, incapacity to perform logical operations in one's head, or lack of human decency! Rule #1: Never, ever, ever, ever, attempt to "MAC" two women in one fell swoop. You will not only fail in your dishonest and insincere efforts, but will look foolish and receive blank stares along with subtle notes of physical threat. Example: Walking back from work to the Library only to see two ladies sitting on the bench smoking, and saying "Hellooooooo ladiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeees." It is an accepted certainty that you will look STUPID!!! Rule #2: Never plan to have your close friends interrupt your dinner date with a rousing round of bare assed monkey entertainment. Do NOT, I repeat DO NOT in any way convey to the girl you're with that you plan to have your friends do impressions of monkeys for the evening’s entertainment. Not only will she steal your car and leave you pant-less in the parking lot of Denny's, but she will see to it that you never hear the end of it. Rule #3: Absolutely do NOT invite your girl to your apartment (surprised you made it THAT far) and proudly display your vast and limitless collection of rare and unique imported porn. The porn will fail to amuse her, but there is a slight possibility that she may become interested in the porn more so than you, and you yourself will be disturbed. Rule #4: Do not invite females on the roof of your apartment complex for a home cooked candle light dinner and then tell them that if you dropped your shrimp off of the ledge it could possibly impale a pedestrian and potentially end their life (and there IS a grill on the roof). Rule #5: Do NOT go to a dance club, invite a random female to dance, and then break out an obsolete and overtly ostentatious 1996 Macarena dance move. You DO NOT appear COOL in ANY way! You are DOING the blasphemous MACARENA and ought to be taken out back, raped, pillaged, and forced to listen to Gypsy King records on repeat. Rule #6: During an intellectually stimulating conversation do NOT abruptly interrupt your date only to tell her that something in your intestine just imploded, and you MUST fire off a missile IMMEDIATELY!!! Rule #7: Do NOT show up at your date's door with a black collared shirt buttoned down to the middle button with your eye jarring chest hair tangling a silver chain that depicts your name in diamonds. Do NOT proceed to draw attention to it and ask bluntly: "Do you like dis bling bling?" Rule #8: Your woman will NOT be impressed when you go to put money in the parking meter and show off your natural affinity for bouncing quarters off of your beer belly. Do NOT offer your date the rare, and limited time opportunity of bouncing a few off herself. Rule #9: Whence deciding to indulge in ice cream after a satiable meal, do NOT ask the ice cream server for samples of every ice cream in a small cup, and then offer it to your date as a Heinz 57 flavor. Rule #10: Do NOT, under any remote or extenuating circumstances make references or quotes to Star Trek. During intimate moments your date is NOT interested in the inertial dampeners of your shuttle and how well you can port it into her shuttle bay. Rule #12: While at a respectable restaurant (your date having placed her order first, naturally) do NOT order a simple glass of water and say to your server: "I'm good, just watchin’ how much she eats fills me up!" Rule #12: Do NOT drive your date up and down South University while blasting gangsta rap, and bouncing up and down uncontrollably with the windows down screaming "BROKE ASS HOES!!! BROKE ASS HOES!!! ASS AND TITIES!!! ASS AND TITTIES!!!" Rule #13: Do NOT, during intimate moments ask your date: "Do you hear that?" she says, "hear what?" and you reply, "That my friend, is the sound VIAGRA makes!!! Let’s G-E-T I-T O-N!!!!!" Rule #14: After a fling with your date DO NOT expect a thank you note in the mail detailing your strengths and weaknesses, this is a rarity and…well, damn I still don't believe that happened to him!!!! Finally, these rules are contingent upon numerous variables, and for them to hold true one must assume ceteris paribus. Now that you possess this knowledge you must go forth and put it to good use, now off with you! --David Current Mood: peaceful (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, July 25th, 2002
4:51 pm	7/12/02 - Where were you? For those unfortunate souls out there, who weren't privileged enough to be at the Schmerberg Lake Side villa this weekend (or be one of their neighbors), allow me to offer my two cents on the events of the weekend of 7/12/02... First off, let me correct a common misconception. For some, the weekend started the moment they set foot on Michigan soil. This, I am afraid, is not the case. As college student will surely tell you, the weekend ALWAYS starts when massive quantities of alcohol are consumed, fun is being had and when two or more girls are caught "going wild" on camera (thanks again David)... I would now like to take the opportunity to give a shout out to some different people, without whom, the party would have sucked more than Scott's mom: -Luke: By far, the man of the weekend. Not a bad word shall be said about this man, seeing as how, without his generosity and charity, the weekend would have never taken place... -Aaron: You are now officially known as "Party-Pimp". Kudos for getttin it on with two girls at once - that's the kind of moral dilemma that every man dreams of...;) -Yochi: I have never seen such an argumentative drunk in my life. But I guess if you gotta go swimmin, or to the bathroom when you're drunk , you just gotta sometimes... -Kristen: Never use caution tape (or Lemonade and Vodka, for that matter) in a manner other than directed... -Scott: You, my friend, are a true TOOL. Not only were you the Daiquiri bitch, but you also provided everyone there with hours of entertainment (most notably Vanessa and tha "twins"). Props, you party animal... Lastly, let us run down some essential party items needed for a successful party: 1) Multi-purpose Sparklers - used for both light and to ignite caustic boat seat covers 2) A keg named Billy 3) A turquoise ball - just for the fuck of it... 4) Whistler Rockets - for disturbing the peace That's all I can think of for now. If you guys have any other thoughts, or think of more party items, feel free to leave comments at the bottom ;)... For a visual representation of our misadventures, please visit: http://junker.org/~aaron/umich/summer.html (Thanks Aaron!). -Gil Current Music: Custom - Beat Me (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Saturday, July 20th, 2002
9:22 pm	Finally, my weekend post. Fellow dedicated readers, I draw your attention to the post you have so patiently waited for: my weekend post. Pictures speak louder than words so I leave thee with this: http://baybix.hypermart.net/pics.html -Davey (Comment on this)
Thursday, July 18th, 2002
2:31 am	You never really learn to swear until you learn to drive. I love driving, it is a great way to get get to point 'b', or stop for a slurpee, then continue to point 'b', pass the time, or even pick up "honies." I love cruisin', I love a convertible or a panoramic sunroof. I love blasting the air conditioning on a sweltering day and taking the top down. I love the occasional mosquito protein snack, and I love the sharp bursts of wind against my face. I love the freedom, I love the thought of travelling, I love the car conversations, I love watching the yellow dashes fly past the front bumper, I love listening to the radio and letting my hand hang out of the window. I love it when a good song comes on and Gil says "Turn that shit up, yo!" and then we bounce and fabricate our own dance moves. I love doing the sprinkler, I love tapping the wheel and then coming to a stop light only to look over at the car beside me and see the people staring at us as though we had just landed, and our mother ship is in the trunk "chillin." I love laughing at the lack of speed the car has, and making futile attempts to screech the tires. I love it when Gil starts singing and I look over at him with a grin on my face that says "do you need a back-up singer?" But, what I absolutely despise is loathsome pedestrians. They are bastards -- parasites that must be flattened into street pizza and then baked at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Yes, on occasion you will see parking ticket girls crossing, (I call them parking ticket girls because they have 'FINE' written all over them) and for them I stop. On the whole, pedestrians are disinterested in drivers. When you are driving 4 seconds might seem to be an eternity, but when you are walking everything is in real time. Pedestrians fail to acknowledge this. For pedestrians, the road is not just the "road," it is the proverbial "yellow brick road." They're off to see FUCKing OZ while I am impatiently tapping the wheel at the stop sign. They leap in front of vehicles, make direction changes in a single bound, and have an impeccable knack for irritating even the most patient of drivers. Do I believe they do this with malicious intent? No. Why? Because at times, believe it or not, I too am a pedestrian, I too am a bastard and a parasite. I walk with the intention of getting to where I am going with speed, efficiency, and fervor. Whether it requires crossing in front of a car or walking through traffic is irrelevant -- I just do it without thought. I recall riding with Dana. Don't get me wrong, Dana you are one of the nicest persons I know and you are very patient and tolerant. However, put you in a car and your New York City roots shine. "I'll cut you! I SWEAR I'LL CUT YOU!!!! WHERE IS MA HOE CUTTA!?!?!?!" Dana you rock! Dana, you are one of the few persons I know that would undo your seatbelt and step out of the car to "take care of business." I know that in a heartbeat you would roll your window down and scream at the top of your lungs...and for that you have my respect and admiration -- because it is so much fun! With you at the helm a pedestrian would always be tempted to say: "Next time you wave at me, use more than one finger, please!" In closing, all I ask is that next time you go for a drive, leisurely or otherwise, make a pedestrian's life a living hell -- just once. It is the best and cheapest form of therapy. Next time you see someone just scream: "YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!! IT'S YOUR FAULT THAT SOLOMAN SMITH BARNEY DOWNGRADED APPL, IT'S YOUR FAULT I WAS FUCKING LAST MAN ON THE DEAL!!!!! ARE YOU STEALING THE FOOD FROM MY CHILDRENS' MOUTH'S!!?!?!?!" well, something of that nature -- you get the picture. Be nice, -Dav P.S. I have received recent complaints about my entries. "David, we want funny ones," "why don't you write funny shit?" "don't write boring 'running' stuff!" To this my reply is: "If blind people wear sunglasses, why don't deaf people wear earmuffs?" think about that one. My weekend post is coming...when I FEEL like it! (6 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, July 15th, 2002
9:46 pm	Why? Why not? So much the better when things don't go as planned, wouldn't you say? Every desire, every aversion precedes another desire or aversion, and no single event would ever come about without a given set of events that precede it. Do you believe that? Do you really? Think about that, think about it again, then think about thinking it, then think about thinking about it. Believe it now? If you do, than consider yourself a full fledged one hundred percent pure determinist. Do you believe in fate? Do you believe in contingencies? Do you believe in a world governed by odds? Or do believe that odds are superfluous, and just as fallacious as the man-made faculty of mathematics? Do you believe that you would not exist, given the series of events joining two individuals to conceive of your birth? Do you believe that if your pencil fell on the ground right this minute and you did not bother to pick it up, that you would later fall on it, break your arm, go to the emergency room and meet the very person that you would spend the rest of your life with? Do you believe that if you had just picked that pencil up life would take a different course? You would not have fallen, you would not have broken your arm, you would not have been checked into hospital...but the question is: would you meet that same person later in life? No? I think as individuals we find these ideas easier to deal with by ignoring them and living free from concern. I also believe that it is these very ideas that drive some people to insanity, and eventually to the culmination of their death. But ignorance and apathy aside, these ideas ARE real, these ideas ARE palpable; we eat, sleep, and breathe these ideas, and accept them for what they are, not for what we can do to affect them. What if I did not sit down to write this for fifteen or so minutes before my run? What if I left fifteen minutes ago and was hit by car? What if sitting here to write this consumes 15 minutes of my life, delays my run, and in turn averts getting hit by an automobile? I believe our choices only arise out of our final desire or aversion...at this moment I desire a run...and as such a desire dictates, I will do so... -Davi Current Mood: indescribable Current Music: John Mayer - No such thing (2 Comments |Comment on this)