I wrote a hit play

high and dry

totally irrelevant: got into the car this morning and I decided to spin 'the bends'. holy wet thongs, batman! its nice to be reminded that song number 3 kicks all kinds of ass.

anyway, so I had a pretty fun day yesterday. went to the rodeo last night and I had mighty nice time. if I could have changed two things it would have been the weather and martina mcbride, who the hell is she? I don't know because I left before she got on stage.

as I was walking around the facilities after our arrival (some nice lady on a wheelchair gave me two free ducats, bless her heart), I changed my opinion about the abundance of country folk at the rodeo. I think it's a positive thing now. in the ten minutes that passed from the time that I stepped off the bus to when we walked into the reliant arena, I stopped six or nine times and chatted with six or nine different people. it's like being a celebrity, except that I don't get the cash and groupies...and I don't have a stalker.

yet.

we had a good two hours to kill before we had to be in our seats so we decided to watch the cutting horse show. the horse show is damned eerie right now. it was desserted, save for some horses, the familiar cattle dookie stench, and some guy who insisted on cleaning my boots. we bought a nacho grande and skaddadled outta there. and let me tell you something friends; there are few things finer than melted cheese, chili, and jalapeños on top of a bed of nacho chips.

for those who clamored for another entry after my short hiatus: I know you missed me, I know you are falling apart like a concorde over the atlantic, I complete you.

'baby, you being away hurts more than daniel san's beating at the hands of the cobra kais'

damn it feels good to be a ganster,
scarface

Posted by Stan at 2/27/2003 | Permalink

damn it...I missed avril's grammy performance.

did she win anything?
the buffalo bills

Posted by Stan at 2/24/2003 | Permalink

things that suck

- missing wg and also's bash in austin tonight
- having no passes to the cookoff
- getting your pants wet in the rain
- not living in austin
- renting 3 movies, and not seeing a single one before taking them back

phuck ewe

Posted by Stan at 2/21/2003 | Permalink

le look

I have been told before that I look menacing, there's a girl that I used to chat with long ago that apparently thought that I 'look like a serial killer'. yesterday, when I told this to a friend, hey said, 'no, you don't look like a serial killer -- you look mean'. he said he was going to call me 'mean teen'.

now the first reaction to this is obviously a chuckle, then abject shock and disbelief that so called 'friends' would insult me so. however, I've learned a couple of things in my intro to psychology class a couple of years ago. and many of you thought I just took the class to stare at the exquisite tail walking around. first of all, we often don't realize flaws in our communication and appearance, and when we are alerted of them, we lash out in anger and denial. okay, so now that explains the new hole in my wall, ha. so even though I may not think I look lecherous, some people do. I don't want to give this impression, so I need to find out what exactly I'm doing make people think this way about me.

is the problem with my appearance, with my demeanor or with the things I say? I admit that I do tend to be a bit scandalous.

now, even though I may not be the picture of physical perfection, I'm well groomed and dressed. if people are getting this vibe because of the way I look, it's because of physical features that I can't do anything about. but...

it could be because of my demeanor. in certain situations (not many), I am very quiet and reserved. in other situations I'm boisterous, and loud. I think people might interpret my rare shyness as something other than it really is. what that is, I don't know. I have made a concerted effort to be more social in some situations, but it's a difficult thing to do. especially when you don't know other people that well, or when you know that you don't have much in common (i.e. strippers, 'sucks', aggies, etc.)

when I am open, I'm like a loaded gun. I do tend to say things just to shock people or to get laughs. I often worry that people are taking what I say seriously. this could be a problem.

I'd really like to get some constructive feedback about this. especially from the six or nine of you out there whom I actually know in real life. be harsh. I'll understand. I don't want people's first impression of me to be that of a common letch.

I also remember reading that first impressions are much more important than we think. our first impression of someone is a sort of hypothesis. we tend to gather information about each person we meet to support that hypothesis. we rarely take into account things that disprove our theory. when we change our opinion of someone from our first impression, it usually happens over a very long period of discovery or after the other person does something completely and outrageously against the idea that we have of them. this happens very infrequently. so maybe I should shave more frequently, maybe I need to be on time more often, maybe I need to stop being such 'a dude'. because of this, I want to give people a positive impression of who I am. as much as I hate to admit it, I do care what other people think of me. I believe that this is a universal truth.

so call me, email me, give me your feedback. I promise I won't swing at you, he he he.

he's got the look,
roxette

Posted by Stan at 2/20/2003 | Permalink

I think I'll keep my day job

colby, trista, rudy, the wonder twins...man, I suck at predicting the winners of reality tv shows.

signed,
couch potato

Posted by Stan at 2/19/2003 | Permalink

bitches on my jock like the new kids on the block

<.ig momma's house>lawd, laaawd, lawrd I will gladly fellate someone for some good night's sleep right now.

waking up early when you are sick tastes a hyena's anus with tartar sauce. I tried and tried to watch the rockets' game last night, but I popped in a movie before I went medieval on the tv. 'rules of attraction' was midly amusing, I turned it off before it was over, slipped out of my dance clothes (he he he), took a hefty swig of nyquil and forced myself to go to bed at 3am. I also tried to read a few pages from this book I'm working on, I gave up somewhere on page 485.

after shaking off that nyquil funk I woke up and realized that today was going to be an entirely 'me day'. ince I had zero actual obligations today, I took it upon myself to laze around all day occasionally taking a break to clean a room or two, hang up some clothes, throw some junk mail away, etc. it sounded like a fine plan to me.

I actually mopped. I can't stand mopping, but it needed to be done. the floor now looks reasonably clean, but since I was feeling pretty lazy, I didn't do as good a job as I would have liked. I want people to be able to eat off the floor. I guess that will happen eventually, because after about two days of use by me and truman, the floor will be encrusted with enough food to live off of for several months. fuck going to the convenience store to stock up on supplies; I can scrape food off my floor, drink water out of the toilet and crank call people for sheer entertainment should terrorist decide to attack h-town.

for the evening, I had planned on going to the movies, by myself...again. but I decided against it. I'm not well enough to sit in the traffic that backs up on the auto-aorta that is i-10. instead I called one of my old college roommates, there is a party going down this evening. hmmm, not sure if I want to hang out with his usual 'party crowd'. I'll go a little something like this:

I'll call ryan to see what he's been up to, he'll invite me to a party thrown by a bar/club/tit joint owner friend of his. not having anything remotely exciting going on, I'll jump at the opportunity to maybe, possibly, perhaps have some fun. the party will end up being kind of weird, and some obscure industrial type of bar, or someone's eurotrash abode. I won't know enough people there to really socialize but I'll know entirely too many people there to make a complete ass out of myself. I'll run into 6 or 9 kids that I know from high school.

none of the fake hoes there will be up on my jock, which will be a bit disappointing...at first. then, I'll end up asking a couple of girls how many beers it would take to get them to make out with me (at the same time, of course), none of which could come up with a number adequately large enough to answer the question. bitches! later I'll spend the better part of the night babysitting some random strange who'll be much incoherent after drinking an entire bottle of alize (the favored soft drink of tupac shakur, and strippers...errrr professional dancers). then, she'll beg me to call her boyfriend who at this time is probably balls deep in one of her colleagues. 'he's really sweet and caring' she'll say. the dude is probably a walking std. having had enough I'll slip out of there fast eddy duncan style and not talk to my friend for another 6 months.

go go go go shawty,
50 cent

Posted by Stan at 2/19/2003 | Permalink

down to a t


Say Goodbye


What Dave Matthews Song Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
that is totally 'me'

I'm a sexual robot sent back through time, to change the future for one lucky lady,
shermanator

Posted by Stan at 2/18/2003 | Permalink

application to become my woman

due to the o v e r w h e l m i n g response from my vday entry, I'm posting my application. fill it out and email it to me (donkey_show@hotmail.com). again, sucks need not apply.

section one -- the basics
name:
current place of residence:
age:
height:
weight:
eye color:

section two -- interests
list three songs/movies that you would use to describe yourself:
list your top three favorite albums/movies that you own:
list your top three albums/movies that you would like to purchase:
list your top three makeout songs:
do you think that 'texas fight' is the greatest fight song in the universe? (if your answer is 'no', please stop here as you will no longer be considered for the position)
do you like dogs? favorite breed?
do you like cats?
what would you name a potential dog or cat?
what is/was your major in college?
how much do you read?
do you drink alcohol?
do you like college football?
do you like camping? golf? fishing? yachting?
do you like snowboarding?
would you like to teach me how?

section three -- presentation
do you wear glasses, contacts or neither?
what percentage of your wardrobe is periwinkle?
do you coordinate your undergarments?:
do you enjoy getting dressed up?
do you own a pair of 'bgop's?
do you have any piercings or tattoos?
are you into spinal piercings, satan worshiping, and clogging?
do you own a baseball cap?
what is your favorite piece of clothing?
do you have 'country hair'?

section four -- philosophical issues
do you subscribe to any religion?
have you ever questioned why you feel that way?
do you believe in any sort of God?
are you a dirty hippie?
are you a cheese eating surrender monkey?
are you a giraffe?

section five -- domestic issues
how do you feel about kids?
do you like to cook?
are you organized?
do you have a high tolerance for laziness, and overall dudeness?
would you drive a mini-van?

section six -- the dreaded experience portion
so how many serious relationships have you had?
how long has it been since your last relationship?
how long was that relationship?
how well did it end?
did you break it off or did he?
are you on good terms now?
could I kick your ex's ass?
would you care if I beat him into a bloody pulp?
um, will you be wearing a white dress on your wedding day?
if so, do you plan on keeping it that way?
do you have any illegitimate kids?
have you ever done it with a midget?
would you?
not even for me?

remember to email your completed applications to: donkey_show@hotmail.com feel free to send pictures or candy, remember the judges can be bribed.

Posted by Stan at 2/18/2003 | Permalink

happy birthday truman!

my number one stunna is 4 years young today.

his birthday meal:

- half a steak
- some grapes
- three crackers with salmon pate
- a spoonful of ben and jerry's 'one sweet whirled'

make a wish,
yo' daddy

Posted by Stan at 2/17/2003 | Permalink

note to pervs:

you won't find photogs of avril lavigne's tits here.

cheers,
harry palms

Posted by Stan at 2/15/2003 | Permalink

you know what? fuck it...

now that the 6,900 lbs gorilla that had been hitching a ride on my back for more than a week has decided to move onto greener pastures, I'm left here with a clear, worry-free mind. so here it goes:

it's another vday, and once again, the only lovin' that I got from the ladies was a card from a lady friend, which, as you know, sucks, because she's never going to put out. okay, I confess. while said card is not in my possession, I have been told that it exists. pathetic I know... christ! I almost forgot, I did get a bag full of half melted hershey kisses from my mom's 12 year old daughter. by the time I'm eligible to run for the senate she'll be good to go. you gotta plant the seed early, I suppose.

my bitterness multiplies with each vday. I've been sans-sweetheart for like 6 or 9 years so far. the great hallmark holiday serves only as a reminder of my piss poor history with the skirts. allow me to fill you in.

in the seventh grade I had my first vday 'date'. it was at a dance in my smelly old middle school cafeteria. earlier in the week I had finally built up the testicular fortitude to ask this girl to be my date. she said 'yes', snoogins. mr. cool guy here turned down my mom's offer to drive us to the dance. instead, I told her to meet me there. wanting to buck the trend I also chose to wear a canary yellow polo shirt, my mom told me to wear red, but did I listen? at 5:45pm, I hoped on my bike and set due course for my school. two minutes later the skies opened up, too late to turn around I was forced to pedal through the torrential rains. soaking wet and sporting a nice jackson pollockesque design on the back of my shirt from the mud that my rear tired kicked up I made my grand entrance to the dance. I spotted my date and we slow danced to 'god is watching us'. I could tell she was trying to get all chummy, I panicked and tried to come up with an excuse. this is when I looked down and noticed the red stain that her red blouse had bled onto my wet yellow shirt. I thought it would be funny to make a scene so I ran around the cafeteria yelling bloody murder. I handled the whole thing poorly. I got scared because I built the whole thing up too much. she, of course, started dating one of my friends shortly thereafter which sent me into a spiral of shame and pathos.

fast forward to my college years. I briefly hooked up on vday with this filly who happened to be going to my university. I was able to parlay this into a reputation of a little pimp, 'cause I was able to entice a lady to scrimmage with me so soon. that only lasted for a night unfortunately. I was determined to play this cool and treat her right. she left a note on my door saying that we needed to talk. being a complete weiner, I freaked out and ended up not seeing her for a month. every time I see her now, it's awkward.

so yeah, I haven't really gotten any sort of action on valentine's since that point in time. I'm single, I'm funny, I'm rich, I'm good looking, I have a rapist's wit (it's from 'dumb and dumber' look it upI should be balls deep, god damnit. instead, I just have incredibly strong forearms and poor eyesight, ha!

I think part of my problem is that I never really had to ask too many girls out. I almost always somehow end up with hottie at my side. I've also never really been 'shot down' as they say. you may think this is a good thing. but, I think that I would be stronger if someone for whom I dearly cared for, or wished to get to know better, crushed the tiny lump of coal that is my ego. if this badass girl were to ridicule me in front of my friends, I can only think that I would rise from the ashes like a glorious phoenix and become a lean, mean chick killing machine.

I've always waited for the girl to make the first move. since nobody made a move this year, or last, or the one before that (starting to get the idea?), I haven't had a female companion on vday for a long time. earlier this year, when I was feeling especially desperate and lonely, I made the executive decision to make a restaurant reservation at the city's finest eatery for today. because, this was the year that my streak of biblical proportions was going to come to a screetching halt. date or not, I was going. having to resort to this particular tactic made me feel about 6 or 9 different kinds of pathetic. it was like I had hit rock bottom and I whipped out a plastic spork to dig a couple of feet deeper.

seeing that I again was going to be left alone this year I contemplated putting my reservation on the ebay block. but fate threw me for a loop, and it is now the least of my worries. but that is a whole 'nother entry. so here I am. I've almost forgotten what it feels like to actually kiss a girl, or at least have her kiss you in return, ha. I figure it's time to actually get on a horse and do something about it. I could actually try to get out more often, and talk to girls and attempt actual human contact, but that would require owning a set of balls. mine have gone missing for quite sometime. besides, everyone knows that leads no where. instead, I've developed this little application form to hook the poo poos (its a joke from 'boiler room'), because, as all of my friends like to tease me 'every relationship starts on the internet'. if you are interested email me (its on the right margin 'email me'), I'll send you the form, you send it back and we can get down to business. 'sucks' need not apply.

...or you could call me, I hear that works too.

later dude,
hermit

Posted by Stan at 2/14/2003 | Permalink

alone again, and its the least of my worries...

yesterday was one of the happiest days of my life. I'm truly blessed with a fantastic group of friends. again, thank you for the thoughts and prayers.

happy vday everyone. this cat is exhausted, I plan on sitting on the couch and watching 'sweet home alabama'. I'll probably just pass out, but perharps I'll dream of reese.


just wait, and it will come...
blues traveler

Posted by Stan at 2/14/2003 | Permalink

tired

Posted by Stan at 2/12/2003 | Permalink

told you he was hot

a guy by the name of 50 cent has completely sold out his album in h-town. you cannot find it anywhere, although I heard the best buy in humble (hmmm, what does that say about that area?) has a ton of copies left.

I told you so,
talent scout

Posted by Stan at 2/10/2003 | Permalink

the beard has gone the way of the dinosaur, it has been for some time. I'm also donating blood tomorrow.

all for now,
me

Posted by Stan at 2/09/2003 | Permalink

some punks beat me to it...

trudy's trifecta. next time I'm in austin I'm going to do it, AGAIN, and I will photo chronicle it as well. now, doing the baby acapulco challenge really puts some hair on your chest. it entails drinking 2 (3 if you have ordered at entree) blue margaritas at their three austin locations.

nomadic drinker

Posted by Stan at 2/05/2003 | Permalink

you would think with all the modern advances in technology that someone would have been able to miniaturize the UN earpiece by now. whomever finally solves this enigma should definately receive strong consideration for this year's 'montgomery c. burns high achievement award in the field of excellence'

technophile

Posted by Stan at 2/05/2003 | Permalink

dude, how many times were you beaten with the ugly stick?

I've been growing a beard for about two weeks. it is past its maximus from 'gladiator' stage and it has now entered the full-growth and coverage stage. in the past I've gotten mixed reviews about my facial hair. it tends to break down like this: dudes like it, girls don't...so I just end up shaving it all off before I start looking like kevin smith.

this morning:
1. as I checked my beard, the shower curtain, without being touched or disturbed physically, fell and nailed me upside the head.
2. I drank enough coke and rum (hey they were freebies) last night to keep me awake ALL night.

these two events are not related. the casual onlooker might put these things together and think creating a diversion by having several attractive young women flash me so someone can hide my shoelaces, belts, ropes, and nin cds might be in order. it's not, but if all it takes is a little moping to get some live hoo hoos in my living room, someone get me a black sweater, my messenger bag, and a poetry journal, stat.

fortunately, I'm pretty happy. I've been getting out of the house frequently (albeit mostly to watch movies, by MYSELF) and wanting to kick people in the testes less, which is surprising, especially seeing as how the lover's holiday is once again already upon us.

so yeah, saturday: victoria was here, I was letting her run around as usual. before we left, however, I decided to look longingly into the reflection of my mug from this tiny mirror. I spend a lot of time on an average day doing this, because I am obviously so god damned attractive. I can't get enough of this face and the steaming pile of man meat attached to it. seriously, I'm not shitting you.

if that were actually the case, I would have an easier time chalking the fact that this mirror crashed to the ground and shattered while I looked into it up to random unfortunate incident. there was no earthquake. I didn't accidentally breathe too hard on it. it just fell off the wall and cracked with nothing more than a glance on my part. this is obviously Jesus' way of confirming my uglytude. so, I picked up the pieces, threw them away and was thankful that I was in good enough spirits to laugh at the whole thing rather than take a jagged piece of glass and run it lengthwise along a vein in my forearm. (ok, victoria slamed into the wall, which caused the mirror to fall, I'm not emo guys. chill the fuck out).

after I settled that I jumped in one of my whips and I bling blinged it on over to blockbuster. you know you have reached uber-dork status when you are reduced to renting 'the rookie' because you have seen EVERYTHING in the new release racks. and to add insult to injury the manager makes it a point to boot up a computer to process your transaction because you are now on of 'his boys'.

where is my 'star wars'? hurry up and get here,
jedi dork

Posted by Stan at 2/03/2003 | Permalink

miss me?

noogins,
j. mewes

p.s. stick around, I'll write something funny and witty this evening.

Posted by Stan at 2/03/2003 | Permalink