People rarely take risks. This is the reason why boys don't ask out girls or how you never knew that the Moon Over My Hammy plate at Denny's is delicious because you decided to go home at 3AM. This is how you keep moving, but never go anywhere. Playing it safe is life's version of a treadmill.
Life is full of possibilities and your body is capable of many things. For example, Mauro Prosperi survived many days in the Sahara desert after losing his way during the Marathon des sables. And Julianne Koepcke survived after a place crash in the Amazon. I was on crew for almost two years in college, and during winter practices we would go out in shorts, a t-shirt and our bare feet and row at 5 in the morning, sometimes in temperatures close to freezing. The human body can follow the will of the Spirit of you let it. You can do many things.
People today lump their decisions into two categories. A 'good' decision is a decision that will work and a 'bad' decision is any decision that has doubt. These decisions are based on the outcome, rather than what you really want. This is how settling happens. And this is how pirates become bankers.
Decisions should be based on what you want, rather than what may or may not happen. Risky decisions are 'bad' decisions with glasses on. The only difference between a good and bad decision is what you want to do. Discomfort or failure does not equal death. Risk does not equal bad. And safe does not always equal good.
And this is how pirates become the captains they've always wanted to.
Live a little. Have some stories to tell your children, rather than telling stories about your crazy friend who actually took chances.
So go ahead, eat jellyfish at a sketchy Chinese restaurant because you have always wanted to try it. Run three marathons in seven weeks because it might be possible, and if not, at least you tried. Why not try getting something different at IHOP so people don't know what to order for you when you take a bathroom break, or making friends with people you might not normally talk to, so maybe, just maybe, you extend a little bit of God's grace and maybe even learn a new perspective. Try the liver with onions, you might actually like it. And Flatliners won't kill kill you, it just makes your mouth hurt a little, you can push through don't be a baby. Sleep in an alley in NY, you'll save loads of money, you can take shifts with your friend and look out for muggers. Kayaking the ocean? Please, you can do that in your sleep.
Do what you can while you are here.
How will any of you ever know what you are made of or what you really want if you keep running on a treadmill during your youth?
-S
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sherwin Finally Comes Up with Something Awesome
As most of you readers out there in blogland know, Sherwin makes absolutely horrible decisions. From eating jellyfish at midnight in sketchy Chinatown to running three marathons in six weeks, I know that I can basically ask him for advice on any subject and trust that if I do the exact opposite of what he tells me to do, everything will turn out okay! Thanks, Sherwin!
Friday night, however, Sherwin totally redeemed himself from virtually every bad decision he has ever made. Bad decisions like eating Flatliners at Buffalo Wing Factory with no spicy-food preparation beforehand, hiking old rag twice in one day, and keeping my friend's Nikon SLR camera in his bag of filth. But like I said, Sherwin is the man and has overcome virtually every poor decision made in recent memory in one fell swoop.
GHOSTBUSTERS. E STREET CINEMAS. MIDNIGHT.
First things first. We need to collectively establish that Ghostbusters is one of the greatest movies of my/your childhood, and a celluloid MASTERPIECE. Everything about that movie is incredible. The dry humor, the special effects, the writing...whatever the point is Ghostbusters is incredible and everyone knows it. Seeing it on a big screen with a packed audience in DC at midnight with my best friends sherwin + vinny was the best decision in recent memory. and Sherwin came up with it. Good job, sherwin! GHOSTBUSTERS IS SO GOOD!!! As a result of seeing this movie, the next car I get (hopefully this week) I am going to name Ecto-1.
As a small plug for E Street Cinemas, that place rocks, student price is $8 for a movie--which I always seem to secure--and they play, in addition to most of the current popular movies, a ton of cool pretentious indie films too! In fact, it rules so much and Sherwin has so few inhibitions that he has been known to take a lunch break, walk a few blocks over to E Street, catch a random movie, and walk right on back to work. There are also tons of weird characters to make fun of and peoplewatch at E Street. Like the one time we came out of this awesome/crazy time-paradox-type movie from Spain called TimeCrimes, where this Spanish guy kept going back in time to try to fix his mistakes, only to be foiled by his future self who was being foiled by HIS future self...you get the idea. Our group of six was talking outside, trying to figure out what the crap we just saw, when this really weird dude came up and started talking about paradoxes and how "amazing" this film was. He was right about a lot of stuff, so me and Sherwin decided/pretended that he was a really famous movie critic and we were just in the presence of greatness.
So in conclusion, I hope this encourages all of you to go out there and make something out of your life. Ghostbusters is a cinematic masterpiece and seeing it huge is AWESOME. Go to E Street (with me?) and see a movie of your choice, because the moral of the story is that if Sherwin somehow makes a good decision, you know it has to be good.
Friday night, however, Sherwin totally redeemed himself from virtually every bad decision he has ever made. Bad decisions like eating Flatliners at Buffalo Wing Factory with no spicy-food preparation beforehand, hiking old rag twice in one day, and keeping my friend's Nikon SLR camera in his bag of filth. But like I said, Sherwin is the man and has overcome virtually every poor decision made in recent memory in one fell swoop.
GHOSTBUSTERS. E STREET CINEMAS. MIDNIGHT.
First things first. We need to collectively establish that Ghostbusters is one of the greatest movies of my/your childhood, and a celluloid MASTERPIECE. Everything about that movie is incredible. The dry humor, the special effects, the writing...whatever the point is Ghostbusters is incredible and everyone knows it. Seeing it on a big screen with a packed audience in DC at midnight with my best friends sherwin + vinny was the best decision in recent memory. and Sherwin came up with it. Good job, sherwin! GHOSTBUSTERS IS SO GOOD!!! As a result of seeing this movie, the next car I get (hopefully this week) I am going to name Ecto-1.
As a small plug for E Street Cinemas, that place rocks, student price is $8 for a movie--which I always seem to secure--and they play, in addition to most of the current popular movies, a ton of cool pretentious indie films too! In fact, it rules so much and Sherwin has so few inhibitions that he has been known to take a lunch break, walk a few blocks over to E Street, catch a random movie, and walk right on back to work. There are also tons of weird characters to make fun of and peoplewatch at E Street. Like the one time we came out of this awesome/crazy time-paradox-type movie from Spain called TimeCrimes, where this Spanish guy kept going back in time to try to fix his mistakes, only to be foiled by his future self who was being foiled by HIS future self...you get the idea. Our group of six was talking outside, trying to figure out what the crap we just saw, when this really weird dude came up and started talking about paradoxes and how "amazing" this film was. He was right about a lot of stuff, so me and Sherwin decided/pretended that he was a really famous movie critic and we were just in the presence of greatness.
So in conclusion, I hope this encourages all of you to go out there and make something out of your life. Ghostbusters is a cinematic masterpiece and seeing it huge is AWESOME. Go to E Street (with me?) and see a movie of your choice, because the moral of the story is that if Sherwin somehow makes a good decision, you know it has to be good.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
blaaarrggh haxx / guest post
hey blog monkeys,
dj leather interior here. i am in the shiloh house, i am actually sitting amongst the residents at the very moment. We're just sitting here, talking about various and random topics, mindless rants about anything and everything. little do they know that while this is going on i am defiling their blog...destroying its integrity...smothering any chance of hope they have for the future of this blog. yes. yeeessssss hahhahaha, its over for you shiloh!! you and your friends are dead!
well no, i actually like this blog so what good would it do if i ruined it. i dont want to kill you, what would i do without you? nothing thats what. well actually i would probably focus more time on my own blog. check it out if you have the time: vbgdesign.blogspot.com (nice plug)
sherwin just took the cinnamon challenge. thats where you try and swallow a whole spoonful of cinnamon, its apparently impossible. it seemed like sherwin had some difficulty, but who knows. so on the topic of challenges, so far its been all sound and no fury. we talk and talk about the challenges, new ones come up nearly every time this topic arises, but we never actually do anything. basically we need to set a date, pick a challenge and just do it. my sugesstion is the dairy creamer challenge...the flavored dairy creamer challenge. the opposition against this of course that it already sounds absolutly, horrifyingly disgusting and terrifying. well i don't know i'm down for whatever. have you noticed how most challenges involve some kind of dairy product? gallon of ice cream, gallon of milk, half gallon of eggnog. does anyone have a suggestion for a non-dairy related challenge?
look i dont really know what i'm doing here. maybe next time i haxx this blog i'll have a plan. do i look like a guy with a plan?
nathan's wintry mix is rocking my life right now.
love always,
dj leather interior
dj leather interior here. i am in the shiloh house, i am actually sitting amongst the residents at the very moment. We're just sitting here, talking about various and random topics, mindless rants about anything and everything. little do they know that while this is going on i am defiling their blog...destroying its integrity...smothering any chance of hope they have for the future of this blog. yes. yeeessssss hahhahaha, its over for you shiloh!! you and your friends are dead!
well no, i actually like this blog so what good would it do if i ruined it. i dont want to kill you, what would i do without you? nothing thats what. well actually i would probably focus more time on my own blog. check it out if you have the time: vbgdesign.blogspot.com (nice plug)
sherwin just took the cinnamon challenge. thats where you try and swallow a whole spoonful of cinnamon, its apparently impossible. it seemed like sherwin had some difficulty, but who knows. so on the topic of challenges, so far its been all sound and no fury. we talk and talk about the challenges, new ones come up nearly every time this topic arises, but we never actually do anything. basically we need to set a date, pick a challenge and just do it. my sugesstion is the dairy creamer challenge...the flavored dairy creamer challenge. the opposition against this of course that it already sounds absolutly, horrifyingly disgusting and terrifying. well i don't know i'm down for whatever. have you noticed how most challenges involve some kind of dairy product? gallon of ice cream, gallon of milk, half gallon of eggnog. does anyone have a suggestion for a non-dairy related challenge?
look i dont really know what i'm doing here. maybe next time i haxx this blog i'll have a plan. do i look like a guy with a plan?
nathan's wintry mix is rocking my life right now.
love always,
dj leather interior
Things boys eat when they are sad
1. Cereal in a metal bowl used for baking large cakes
2. Hot pockets on a paper towel
3. Ramen in tupperware
4. Rippled potato chips in hand and ranch dip in case
5. Large family lasagna dinner in its original container
6. Peanut Butter on a spoon with multiple slices of bread in lap
7. Wine in a pint glass and sardines from the can
8. Eggs, scrambled, microwaved, in container of finished family lasagna dinner
9. popcorn in bag doled out to be eaten in bowl
10. Vienna sausages from the can
-S
2. Hot pockets on a paper towel
3. Ramen in tupperware
4. Rippled potato chips in hand and ranch dip in case
5. Large family lasagna dinner in its original container
6. Peanut Butter on a spoon with multiple slices of bread in lap
7. Wine in a pint glass and sardines from the can
8. Eggs, scrambled, microwaved, in container of finished family lasagna dinner
9. popcorn in bag doled out to be eaten in bowl
10. Vienna sausages from the can
-S
Friday, March 27, 2009
Passing the Time on the Metro #1: Train Hopping
Sometimes the distance between point A and point B can get very tedious. You can twiddle your thumbs and stare yourself into insanity. Believe me, I have done it many times before and it is not enjoyable. Sometimes you have to get up and take charge of your own life and realize that you do not have to put up with this.
The metro can be a long ride.
The first activity in this series is something I have recently discovered. It is called train hopping. It harkens back to the days of freighthopping which is the practice of covertly hitching a free ride on a railroad freight car. Migrant workers use to do this in the old days because they were unable to find affordable transportation.
Freight hopping today is extremely dangerous because conditions inside the car can be severe based on weather, as well as reported dangers from other freighthoppers who may be ex-cons or other violent undesireables.
Trainhopping the DC metro has all of the thrill, but the only severe danger is potentially being late for your activity.
Yesterday after work I barely caught my rain and made it through the doors as it closed on my bag. I was on the very last train. I wanted to be somewhere in the middle so at the next stop I decided to get off and move as far as I could up. Around Farrugut West I quickly manuevered my way past crowds, being careful not to knock people over, and barely made it to the next train, again the doors closing on my bag, adrenaline was surging through me. At Foggy Bottom I got off and managed to move up two cars.
The most important thing is to keep your ears open for the 'doors closing' warning sound. You can play it safe moving up one car at a time, but it is possible with two. I played by my own personal honor system and left at the door I came in, although if you want you can move up in your train to make hopping easier.
Another factor you have to keep in mind is manuevering the crowd. At some points you might be going against crowd traffic which can get intense, just be careful not to mow anyone down, and keep small children in your peripheral.
If you have a longer ride and you make it to the front, you can just work your way back. With two or more people the adrenaline factor goes up considerably, but remember there is danger of losing your friends and challengers.
Trainhopping can be an enjoyable experience and is a good equivalent if you missed your gym workout that day. Bring an extra undershirt if you choose to do this in the morning.
Don't worry, you'll be there in no time.
-Sher
The metro can be a long ride.
The first activity in this series is something I have recently discovered. It is called train hopping. It harkens back to the days of freighthopping which is the practice of covertly hitching a free ride on a railroad freight car. Migrant workers use to do this in the old days because they were unable to find affordable transportation.
Freight hopping today is extremely dangerous because conditions inside the car can be severe based on weather, as well as reported dangers from other freighthoppers who may be ex-cons or other violent undesireables.
Trainhopping the DC metro has all of the thrill, but the only severe danger is potentially being late for your activity.
Yesterday after work I barely caught my rain and made it through the doors as it closed on my bag. I was on the very last train. I wanted to be somewhere in the middle so at the next stop I decided to get off and move as far as I could up. Around Farrugut West I quickly manuevered my way past crowds, being careful not to knock people over, and barely made it to the next train, again the doors closing on my bag, adrenaline was surging through me. At Foggy Bottom I got off and managed to move up two cars.
The most important thing is to keep your ears open for the 'doors closing' warning sound. You can play it safe moving up one car at a time, but it is possible with two. I played by my own personal honor system and left at the door I came in, although if you want you can move up in your train to make hopping easier.
Another factor you have to keep in mind is manuevering the crowd. At some points you might be going against crowd traffic which can get intense, just be careful not to mow anyone down, and keep small children in your peripheral.
If you have a longer ride and you make it to the front, you can just work your way back. With two or more people the adrenaline factor goes up considerably, but remember there is danger of losing your friends and challengers.
Trainhopping can be an enjoyable experience and is a good equivalent if you missed your gym workout that day. Bring an extra undershirt if you choose to do this in the morning.
Don't worry, you'll be there in no time.
-Sher
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Spring Cleaning
Every house has to do it. You gotta clean. You gotta get in there and scrub down the sink and mop the floors and clean that crap up.
However. This becomes difficult when your house is covered in filth.
That's right, virtually every room in Shiloh seems like FEMA's going to bust in with some man in a suit and a hardhat yelling, "THIS IS OUR JURISDICTION!" and start setting up Cranes and Support Teams and Infrastructure, mercilessly barking orders at some 22 year-old intern who joined FEMA so he could "help people recover" and now all he's doing is fetching coffee and doughnuts for some douchebag in a suit, soon to be so jaded by all the governmental red tape involved with disaster relief that he quits after four years, starts a nonprofit disaster relief organization with the goal of getting much-needed supplies to hard-hit areas, only to be swindled by a con artist masquerading as a ex-Peace Corps volunteer, reducing the poor man's life to a hollow shell, and as he looks back on the lie his life has become he thinks back to that fateful day when the pressures of the working world forced him into nonexistence...that day at Shiloh, epicenter of the world's conflict.
I'm kidding. But seriously. This place is a disaster. We've got beds in random places around the house, I've still got some stuff from when I moved in on the living room couches, there's beer bottles and empty potato chip bags in the basement, the sink again overflows with plates, dishes, and glasses, the bathroom's gross, the master bedroom is a disaster zone with random pieces of furniture + sherwin's shoes + other assorted clothing items lying around in there, the kitchen area needs a massive scrubdown w/mop, Jon's room has crap all over it, and the laundry room is...I don't even want to go there (let's just say we do everything in our power to transfer clothes from the dryer to our laundry bags without letting them drop on the floor), and to top it all off Sherwin's room still smells like ferrets.
It's also difficult to do Spring cleaning when SPRING IS 35 EFFING DEGREES.
So we're cleaning Shiloh over the course of the next day + 1/2, and it will be spotless. At least, that's what we keep telling ourselves.
In other news:
1) a Cadence/Prisms Split Acoustic EP is in the works!!! More details to follow, but I can tell you that the plan is for studio sessions to begin in 2 weeks. Excited!!
2) South Park last night was potentially the greatest south park.
3) Sherwin, Nate, Monica, Katie, and David are HORRIFYINGLY LAME for flaking out completely on me and Vinny's trip to Amphora's last night. A NAP, sherwin? gimme a break. we're not friends anymore. ever! also the cereal is left out so that I can pour it faster next time.
4) Where the Wild Things Are has the potential of being the most epic and incredible movie ever. Watch the trailer and prepare to be amazed.
GO UNC!!!
-Nathan
However. This becomes difficult when your house is covered in filth.
That's right, virtually every room in Shiloh seems like FEMA's going to bust in with some man in a suit and a hardhat yelling, "THIS IS OUR JURISDICTION!" and start setting up Cranes and Support Teams and Infrastructure, mercilessly barking orders at some 22 year-old intern who joined FEMA so he could "help people recover" and now all he's doing is fetching coffee and doughnuts for some douchebag in a suit, soon to be so jaded by all the governmental red tape involved with disaster relief that he quits after four years, starts a nonprofit disaster relief organization with the goal of getting much-needed supplies to hard-hit areas, only to be swindled by a con artist masquerading as a ex-Peace Corps volunteer, reducing the poor man's life to a hollow shell, and as he looks back on the lie his life has become he thinks back to that fateful day when the pressures of the working world forced him into nonexistence...that day at Shiloh, epicenter of the world's conflict.
I'm kidding. But seriously. This place is a disaster. We've got beds in random places around the house, I've still got some stuff from when I moved in on the living room couches, there's beer bottles and empty potato chip bags in the basement, the sink again overflows with plates, dishes, and glasses, the bathroom's gross, the master bedroom is a disaster zone with random pieces of furniture + sherwin's shoes + other assorted clothing items lying around in there, the kitchen area needs a massive scrubdown w/mop, Jon's room has crap all over it, and the laundry room is...I don't even want to go there (let's just say we do everything in our power to transfer clothes from the dryer to our laundry bags without letting them drop on the floor), and to top it all off Sherwin's room still smells like ferrets.
It's also difficult to do Spring cleaning when SPRING IS 35 EFFING DEGREES.
So we're cleaning Shiloh over the course of the next day + 1/2, and it will be spotless. At least, that's what we keep telling ourselves.
In other news:
1) a Cadence/Prisms Split Acoustic EP is in the works!!! More details to follow, but I can tell you that the plan is for studio sessions to begin in 2 weeks. Excited!!
2) South Park last night was potentially the greatest south park.
3) Sherwin, Nate, Monica, Katie, and David are HORRIFYINGLY LAME for flaking out completely on me and Vinny's trip to Amphora's last night. A NAP, sherwin? gimme a break. we're not friends anymore. ever! also the cereal is left out so that I can pour it faster next time.
4) Where the Wild Things Are has the potential of being the most epic and incredible movie ever. Watch the trailer and prepare to be amazed.
GO UNC!!!
-Nathan
Top 10 Reasons why you would hate Nathan
1. He is loud
2. Abercrombie Woods Cologne
3. Cereal boxes are left open
4. He goes to bed at 2AM and he wants you too as well
5. The bathroom is hairy
6. All the cereal bowls are in his room
7. He is jean pretentious
8. Bum smoker
9. Where's the milk?
10. Wear looser pants you are making me stumble
-anonymous
2. Abercrombie Woods Cologne
3. Cereal boxes are left open
4. He goes to bed at 2AM and he wants you too as well
5. The bathroom is hairy
6. All the cereal bowls are in his room
7. He is jean pretentious
8. Bum smoker
9. Where's the milk?
10. Wear looser pants you are making me stumble
-anonymous
Monday, March 23, 2009
Sometimes I like to move
Sher, checking in. I ran my 4th marathon in the last 7 months on Saturday, the Suntrust National Marathon. I didn't really train for this run this go round and my only goal was to enjoy the views and finish. What was nice about this race is that it was exclusively run in the city. I left around 530AM from Shiloh to catch the metro. I got there late due to delays from the crowd. I ended up starting the race late because of the long bathroom line, and only had 10 seconds to spare to cross the start line. Here are some highlights:
Miles 1-2: The weather was close to freezing and I worked mostly on keeping my hands from freezing. I almost tripped over a speed bump on E Capitol St.
Miles 2-4: I ran down Constitution. It was weird to run down it and not stop at any red lights. My shoes were old and noticed I could feel holes at the bottom. My hands were falling off. I drank way too much power aid and needed to drain the waters. I waved to a cop, she waved back. Score. I would wave to every cop I passed.
Miles 4-8: The sun was coming out, although it was cold in the shade. My right foot hurt so I started formulating a grocery list, to take my mind off pain. Adams Morgan looked skanky. The streets were covered in trash, and everything smelled like feces. And in typical AM neighborhood fashion I chugged two beers given by the crowd. The course was very hilly. Dupont Circle was a blur, I was too busy trying to keep my hands warm.
Miles 8-13: U St. was barren. I remember the tunnels during this stretch were a welcome relief. And the downhills didn't hurt either. I had to pee so I snuck behind a Jamaican Cuisine restaurant and peed on a wall. I saw many other runners peeing in random less conspicuous spots. All systems were a go. I met a guy from NY State and ran with him for about 2 miles. We talked about college and the weather. His son is in the same fraternity as me. I passed him when he stopped to stretch. At the end is where the half marathon runners and the full branched off. There wasn't many of us.
Miles 13-17: I drank way too much power aid and needed to pee again. I got in a line for a portajohn and some guy cut in line and stole my spot, but I heard puking so I let it go. We ran Constitution again. I tripped over the same speed bump I was sure of it. Some kid gave me a snickers bar. I was still going at a good pace.
Miles 17-22: We veered into the SW Harbor. I ran with a girl from North Carolina and we talked about restaurants. She was too slow I passed her after less than a mile. The Harbor looked nice I remember eating at the buffet when I was little. Pain was in my legs so I tried to keep loose and go faster. Some girl gave me twizzlers. I ate 3 while running and almost choked. I could never get that right. I followed a girl for 5 miles. She had a good pace. It's not stalking if it's during a race.
Miles 22-24: Anacostia is gorgeous. The neighborhood was very pretty and many locals were out. A guy in front of me waved to a local and the local responded, "I aint wavin at you bitch, put yo hand down." My leg was killing me and my foot was bleeding. I stopped at a corner and took off my socks and soaked up the blood and threw the socks on the sidewalk and ran barefoot. Running commando rules. The park was a long stretch. I ate a lot of jelly beans and m & m's at one stop for energy and it helped immensely.
Miles 24-26: My foot was still bleeding and it was seeping out of my shoe. Gross. I picked up speed to keep loose. I ate random twizzlers in the grass. They were still in the plastic. The last mile I made a mad dash to the finish. Some girl tried to race me, who I quickly disposed of. I finished with just over 4 hours. Kind of dissapointing. But theres always a next time.
Epilogue: In the past 48 hours I have eaten 5 hot dogs, 4 hamburgers, 2 steaks, 2 pizza bolis large cheese pizzas, a corndog, 3 burritos, a pot of spaghetti, and a pot of rice. Mayor Adrien Fenty beat me by 30 or 40 minutes. I am still hungry.
Miles 1-2: The weather was close to freezing and I worked mostly on keeping my hands from freezing. I almost tripped over a speed bump on E Capitol St.
Miles 2-4: I ran down Constitution. It was weird to run down it and not stop at any red lights. My shoes were old and noticed I could feel holes at the bottom. My hands were falling off. I drank way too much power aid and needed to drain the waters. I waved to a cop, she waved back. Score. I would wave to every cop I passed.
Miles 4-8: The sun was coming out, although it was cold in the shade. My right foot hurt so I started formulating a grocery list, to take my mind off pain. Adams Morgan looked skanky. The streets were covered in trash, and everything smelled like feces. And in typical AM neighborhood fashion I chugged two beers given by the crowd. The course was very hilly. Dupont Circle was a blur, I was too busy trying to keep my hands warm.
Miles 8-13: U St. was barren. I remember the tunnels during this stretch were a welcome relief. And the downhills didn't hurt either. I had to pee so I snuck behind a Jamaican Cuisine restaurant and peed on a wall. I saw many other runners peeing in random less conspicuous spots. All systems were a go. I met a guy from NY State and ran with him for about 2 miles. We talked about college and the weather. His son is in the same fraternity as me. I passed him when he stopped to stretch. At the end is where the half marathon runners and the full branched off. There wasn't many of us.
Miles 13-17: I drank way too much power aid and needed to pee again. I got in a line for a portajohn and some guy cut in line and stole my spot, but I heard puking so I let it go. We ran Constitution again. I tripped over the same speed bump I was sure of it. Some kid gave me a snickers bar. I was still going at a good pace.
Miles 17-22: We veered into the SW Harbor. I ran with a girl from North Carolina and we talked about restaurants. She was too slow I passed her after less than a mile. The Harbor looked nice I remember eating at the buffet when I was little. Pain was in my legs so I tried to keep loose and go faster. Some girl gave me twizzlers. I ate 3 while running and almost choked. I could never get that right. I followed a girl for 5 miles. She had a good pace. It's not stalking if it's during a race.
Miles 22-24: Anacostia is gorgeous. The neighborhood was very pretty and many locals were out. A guy in front of me waved to a local and the local responded, "I aint wavin at you bitch, put yo hand down." My leg was killing me and my foot was bleeding. I stopped at a corner and took off my socks and soaked up the blood and threw the socks on the sidewalk and ran barefoot. Running commando rules. The park was a long stretch. I ate a lot of jelly beans and m & m's at one stop for energy and it helped immensely.
Miles 24-26: My foot was still bleeding and it was seeping out of my shoe. Gross. I picked up speed to keep loose. I ate random twizzlers in the grass. They were still in the plastic. The last mile I made a mad dash to the finish. Some girl tried to race me, who I quickly disposed of. I finished with just over 4 hours. Kind of dissapointing. But theres always a next time.
Epilogue: In the past 48 hours I have eaten 5 hot dogs, 4 hamburgers, 2 steaks, 2 pizza bolis large cheese pizzas, a corndog, 3 burritos, a pot of spaghetti, and a pot of rice. Mayor Adrien Fenty beat me by 30 or 40 minutes. I am still hungry.
Vinny's New DJ Name
I changed the name of our blog. It is no longer The Shiloh Rant. It is now Teh Shiloh Blarghh! >:O DEAL WITH IT. This is just a post to tide all you little twitterers and what-have-yous over because there are some COOL EFFING POSTS coming real soon! So GET READY.
With that, I give you, "What me and Vinny do during work":
With that, I give you, "What me and Vinny do during work":
12:51 PM Vinny: NEW DJ NAME:
12:52 PM Dj Dutty Riddims
12:55 PM me: gross
dj slime on my shoes
12:56 PM Vinny: dj snot rocket
12:58 PM DUTTY RIDDIMS is my regge/311/sublime cover band scratch Dj name
1:07 PM me: hahahahahaha 1:09 PM czech out the new name of our blargh!
1:13 PM Vinny: TEH SHILOH BLEECHH
1:14 PM me: TAR SHILAR BLARRRRR!!!!!!!!
1:31 PM Vinny: TR SHRKLH BLRRRJJ!!!! 1:32 PM me: DURKA DURR!!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Aggressive Note (A Response)
"Never attack, unless you know you can win."
-Grandpa Tanaka, 3 Ninjas
If the "past" in "pastsive" is supposed to be a clever play on words, you fail. If you were trying to spell aggressive then maybe you should have spelled that right too, before submitting nonsense for my perusal.
If you don't care about little things--like titles of blog posts--how can I believe that you care that much about Frosted Mini-Wheats? I'd give you an A for effort but this work is so slipshod and careless that I am forced to give you a big fat F.
Also, since when did you care about stale food? I seem to remember a story in which a steak was sitting in the freezer, exposed, for over a year, such that it turned a shade of BLUE, and you ate that. Am I lying? How many mornings have you eaten rice out of a pot Jon didn't even take off of the stove from the night before? How many times have I looked at you in bewilderment (and this is coming from a guy who will eat anything off the floor regardless of how long it's been there) as you make a plate of Chinese "food" (dog, jellyfish) left over from three weeks ago? Oh, hey, remember that loaf of bread with a huge amount of mold on it we found on top of the freezer a few days ago? Hold on, what were the three responses we had?
*Jon picks up loaf of bread*
Jon: GROSS guys what is this doing here??!
Nathan: I was gonna write a blog post about it. Leave it there.
Jon: I'm throwing this away, this is disgusting.
Sherwin: Just peel off the crust guys, it's still good!
You can't possibly care about stale cereal. Much less Frosted Mini-Wheats, because if you let them soak a little they become just as pliable and joyous as new. Also, I don't believe in stale cereal. Stale cereal is just (or almost) as good as regular cereal, to the point where I, the person who obsesses over how deep the spoon I'm using is and judges a cereal based on how good their commercials were in the '80s, don't mind one way or the other.
Get over it, woman. You suck at life.
-Nathan
p.s. sorry about leaving the Frosted Mini-Wheats out.
-Grandpa Tanaka, 3 Ninjas
If the "past" in "pastsive" is supposed to be a clever play on words, you fail. If you were trying to spell aggressive then maybe you should have spelled that right too, before submitting nonsense for my perusal.
If you don't care about little things--like titles of blog posts--how can I believe that you care that much about Frosted Mini-Wheats? I'd give you an A for effort but this work is so slipshod and careless that I am forced to give you a big fat F.
Also, since when did you care about stale food? I seem to remember a story in which a steak was sitting in the freezer, exposed, for over a year, such that it turned a shade of BLUE, and you ate that. Am I lying? How many mornings have you eaten rice out of a pot Jon didn't even take off of the stove from the night before? How many times have I looked at you in bewilderment (and this is coming from a guy who will eat anything off the floor regardless of how long it's been there) as you make a plate of Chinese "food" (dog, jellyfish) left over from three weeks ago? Oh, hey, remember that loaf of bread with a huge amount of mold on it we found on top of the freezer a few days ago? Hold on, what were the three responses we had?
*Jon picks up loaf of bread*
Jon: GROSS guys what is this doing here??!
Nathan: I was gonna write a blog post about it. Leave it there.
Jon: I'm throwing this away, this is disgusting.
Sherwin: Just peel off the crust guys, it's still good!
You can't possibly care about stale cereal. Much less Frosted Mini-Wheats, because if you let them soak a little they become just as pliable and joyous as new. Also, I don't believe in stale cereal. Stale cereal is just (or almost) as good as regular cereal, to the point where I, the person who obsesses over how deep the spoon I'm using is and judges a cereal based on how good their commercials were in the '80s, don't mind one way or the other.
Get over it, woman. You suck at life.
-Nathan
p.s. sorry about leaving the Frosted Mini-Wheats out.
pastsive agressive note
"It is sadder to find the past again and find it inadequate to the present than it is to have it elude you and remain forever a harmonious conception of memory."
-F. Scott Fitzgerald
Nathan, Frosted Mini Wheats is a delicious cereal. I remember it fondly when I first bought it. Inside its box contained many delicious grains of wheat bound into bite sized pieces with one side enveloped in sugary cherubic goodness. When I first opened the package and poured my precious contraband into my 'walls of jericho' bowl and took my first bite I was immediately transported to a blissful happier place filled with the intoxicating freedoms of juvenescence.
This morning I returned to my box and it was not quite the same. The wheat squares tasted of stale rotting corpses and the sugar I once loved merely gave the grain a sad glimmer of the state it once was. Oh how I lamented and deplored time's tenacity to turn beauty into homeliness and the pristine into corruption. Why couldn't it be like it once was? Why can't beauty be frozen in state so its tasty allure can be enjoyed only a week, months later?
I began to surmise a way to prevent this next time so that many future generations can enjoy the fruit of the past. And then an insightful conclusion expeditiously came to me like a moth to the flame burned by the fire.
Maybe you can close the effin box next time you jerk. Oh and buy us some milk or I will end you.
-Sher
-F. Scott Fitzgerald
Nathan, Frosted Mini Wheats is a delicious cereal. I remember it fondly when I first bought it. Inside its box contained many delicious grains of wheat bound into bite sized pieces with one side enveloped in sugary cherubic goodness. When I first opened the package and poured my precious contraband into my 'walls of jericho' bowl and took my first bite I was immediately transported to a blissful happier place filled with the intoxicating freedoms of juvenescence.
This morning I returned to my box and it was not quite the same. The wheat squares tasted of stale rotting corpses and the sugar I once loved merely gave the grain a sad glimmer of the state it once was. Oh how I lamented and deplored time's tenacity to turn beauty into homeliness and the pristine into corruption. Why couldn't it be like it once was? Why can't beauty be frozen in state so its tasty allure can be enjoyed only a week, months later?
I began to surmise a way to prevent this next time so that many future generations can enjoy the fruit of the past. And then an insightful conclusion expeditiously came to me like a moth to the flame burned by the fire.
Maybe you can close the effin box next time you jerk. Oh and buy us some milk or I will end you.
-Sher
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Horror Night at Shiloh
Many of you may not know this but Sherwin has seen every movie known to man. He's even seen Tom Green's Subway Monkey Hour which I thought I might have had him on, but then he remembered that actually he did see it. I've seen a lot of movies myself, and between the two of us we watch a WHOLE lot of movies. Like, Sherwin watches between an average of two and four movies a day, and still ends up having a life. I don't get it.
What I do get, however, is that we're both really into horror movies, and probably once or twice a week, we go downstairs to the horror lair. Armed with cereal + chocolate for me, and beer + Chinese food for Sherwin, we toss on a horror classic or movie we heard was really gory and get scared. We've already got some pretty crazy stories from our horror nights. Like the time we were watching Hostel and my nose started spontaneously bleeding during a torture scene, or how we watched Cold Prey (a Danish slasher movie) and when I told Todd Grabowsky he thought we were just making fun of an asian person trying to say they went to a Coldplay show, or how Sherwin watched Rogue (a B-movie about a giant crocodile) something like four times in a row one night because it was so good.
It's pretty sweet, and in terms of Horror genres, Shiloh has them all covered: Slasher, Classic Horror, Zombie, everything! It would be a great house for a slow-moving slasher-type movie because it's dark and has sharp corners and lots of little rooms. Actually that reminds me of the time me and Sherwin went to Tyson's AMC and watched the absolutely mind-numbingly terrible slasher-remake of Prom Night, and came out of the movie never wanting to see another movie again.
In terms of straight-up, Exorcist-type classic Horror the whole house is creaky and woodsy, and the downstairs smells like a recently-used fireplace (usually because Jon has recently used it) which instantly reminds me of Evil Dead every time I go down there. Which rules. The basement is pretty spacious but really dark when the lights are off--perfect for a horror movie--the kind of place you'd accidentally end up in while you were running barefoot through the woods from an Unknown Fear, only to be drawn into an end plot where a twist reveals that the Unknown Fear is, in reality, your own mind. You die a tragic death alone in the bathroom of the basement. Nail and teeth marks on the walls and floors indicate to the forensics team investigating the crime scene impossibly high levels of schitzophrenia, but they can't find a cause of death. It becomes a cold case at the Central Precinct and no one talks about it to this day.
But the best part is that I found THIS:
downstairs in the heart of the basement, right next to the washer and dryer. "What is that?" you might be asking. Well, it's a Zombie Hatchet. I'm a huge sucker for zombie movies, and I have to say that this discovery has not only made me extremely happy, but has also made me feel much more safe + secure, knowing that Jon, Sherwin, and I can successfully use the basement as a last stand against the zombie takeover, armed with Shiloh's old, partially-rusted-but-still-kinda-sharp zombie hatchet! I imagine us covered in zombie blood, all three of us struggling to keep the downstairs spare room door closed as countless undead push from the other side. As the window on the opposite side of the room is busted open, and a zombie's evil, pale, blood-spattered face recognizes food and with a shreak attempts to make his way in through the window, Sherwin takes the hatchet and with a triumphant "GYAAAAA!!!" brings the full force down on the zombie's head, destroying what's left of its rotted brain. More come after him. Swinging and hacking, it becomes clear that there are too many zombies to ward off, and as the movie fades to black the sound of "Ave Maria" is heard faintly over the snarling and growling. The fate of the residents of Shiloh--sealed forever in a tomb of wood and stone.
This house literally only gets cooler every day I'm in it.
What I do get, however, is that we're both really into horror movies, and probably once or twice a week, we go downstairs to the horror lair. Armed with cereal + chocolate for me, and beer + Chinese food for Sherwin, we toss on a horror classic or movie we heard was really gory and get scared. We've already got some pretty crazy stories from our horror nights. Like the time we were watching Hostel and my nose started spontaneously bleeding during a torture scene, or how we watched Cold Prey (a Danish slasher movie) and when I told Todd Grabowsky he thought we were just making fun of an asian person trying to say they went to a Coldplay show, or how Sherwin watched Rogue (a B-movie about a giant crocodile) something like four times in a row one night because it was so good.
It's pretty sweet, and in terms of Horror genres, Shiloh has them all covered: Slasher, Classic Horror, Zombie, everything! It would be a great house for a slow-moving slasher-type movie because it's dark and has sharp corners and lots of little rooms. Actually that reminds me of the time me and Sherwin went to Tyson's AMC and watched the absolutely mind-numbingly terrible slasher-remake of Prom Night, and came out of the movie never wanting to see another movie again.
In terms of straight-up, Exorcist-type classic Horror the whole house is creaky and woodsy, and the downstairs smells like a recently-used fireplace (usually because Jon has recently used it) which instantly reminds me of Evil Dead every time I go down there. Which rules. The basement is pretty spacious but really dark when the lights are off--perfect for a horror movie--the kind of place you'd accidentally end up in while you were running barefoot through the woods from an Unknown Fear, only to be drawn into an end plot where a twist reveals that the Unknown Fear is, in reality, your own mind. You die a tragic death alone in the bathroom of the basement. Nail and teeth marks on the walls and floors indicate to the forensics team investigating the crime scene impossibly high levels of schitzophrenia, but they can't find a cause of death. It becomes a cold case at the Central Precinct and no one talks about it to this day.
But the best part is that I found THIS:
downstairs in the heart of the basement, right next to the washer and dryer. "What is that?" you might be asking. Well, it's a Zombie Hatchet. I'm a huge sucker for zombie movies, and I have to say that this discovery has not only made me extremely happy, but has also made me feel much more safe + secure, knowing that Jon, Sherwin, and I can successfully use the basement as a last stand against the zombie takeover, armed with Shiloh's old, partially-rusted-but-still-kinda-sharp zombie hatchet! I imagine us covered in zombie blood, all three of us struggling to keep the downstairs spare room door closed as countless undead push from the other side. As the window on the opposite side of the room is busted open, and a zombie's evil, pale, blood-spattered face recognizes food and with a shreak attempts to make his way in through the window, Sherwin takes the hatchet and with a triumphant "GYAAAAA!!!" brings the full force down on the zombie's head, destroying what's left of its rotted brain. More come after him. Swinging and hacking, it becomes clear that there are too many zombies to ward off, and as the movie fades to black the sound of "Ave Maria" is heard faintly over the snarling and growling. The fate of the residents of Shiloh--sealed forever in a tomb of wood and stone.
This house literally only gets cooler every day I'm in it.
Lists
Room Ferret's Top 10 Movies of All Time:
1. Annie Hall
2. Die Hard
3. Singin' in the Rain
4. Casablanca
5. Vertigo
6. Bande A Part
7. City Lights
8. His Girl Friday
9. The Good the Bad and the Ugly
10. The Seven Samurai
Top 10 Horror:
1. Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer
2. Dressed to Kill
3. The Haunting
4. The Evil Dead
5. Profondo rosso
6. The Exorcist
7. The Thing
8. Psycho
9. Suspiria
10. The Legend of Hell House (1973)
Action:
1. Raiders of the Lost Ark
2. Hard-Boiled
3. Die Hard
4. The Seven Samurai
5. The Killer
6. Cheung fo (The Mission)
7. Drunken Master 2
8. The Road Warrior
9. The French Connection
10. The Great Escape
Unlame Chick Flicks:
1. Casablanca
2. Chunking Express
3. Amelie
4. Some Like it Hot
5. Harold and Maude
6. City Lights
7. The Philadelphia Story
8. All the Real Girls
9. An American in Paris
10. Lost in Translation
Top 5 French New Wave:
1. Breathless
2. The 400 Blows
3. Bande A part
4. Jules et Jim
5. Week End
Top 10 Real Badassery:
1. Point Blank
2. Le Samourai
3. Oldboy
4. The Great Escape
5. Yojimbo
6. Charley Varrick
7. Once Upon a Time in the West
8. From Russia With Love
9. Rififi
10. Hard Times
Top 5 Giallo:
1. The Bird with the Crystal Plummage
2. Suspiria
3. Deep Red
4. The House with Laughing Windows
5. Opera
Top 5 Italian Neo Realism
1. The Bicycle Thief
2. Umberto D
3. Stromboli
4. La Strada
5. Rome, Open City
5 Lame Chick Flicks that I May or May Not Like (For Greta):
1. When Harry Met Sally (Lame)
2. Moonstruck (Lame)
3. You've Got Mail (Lame)
4. Only You (Lame)
5. The Notebook or How we died at the same time for dramatic Effect (Lame)
1. Annie Hall
2. Die Hard
3. Singin' in the Rain
4. Casablanca
5. Vertigo
6. Bande A Part
7. City Lights
8. His Girl Friday
9. The Good the Bad and the Ugly
10. The Seven Samurai
Top 10 Horror:
1. Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer
2. Dressed to Kill
3. The Haunting
4. The Evil Dead
5. Profondo rosso
6. The Exorcist
7. The Thing
8. Psycho
9. Suspiria
10. The Legend of Hell House (1973)
Action:
1. Raiders of the Lost Ark
2. Hard-Boiled
3. Die Hard
4. The Seven Samurai
5. The Killer
6. Cheung fo (The Mission)
7. Drunken Master 2
8. The Road Warrior
9. The French Connection
10. The Great Escape
Unlame Chick Flicks:
1. Casablanca
2. Chunking Express
3. Amelie
4. Some Like it Hot
5. Harold and Maude
6. City Lights
7. The Philadelphia Story
8. All the Real Girls
9. An American in Paris
10. Lost in Translation
Top 5 French New Wave:
1. Breathless
2. The 400 Blows
3. Bande A part
4. Jules et Jim
5. Week End
Top 10 Real Badassery:
1. Point Blank
2. Le Samourai
3. Oldboy
4. The Great Escape
5. Yojimbo
6. Charley Varrick
7. Once Upon a Time in the West
8. From Russia With Love
9. Rififi
10. Hard Times
Top 5 Giallo:
1. The Bird with the Crystal Plummage
2. Suspiria
3. Deep Red
4. The House with Laughing Windows
5. Opera
Top 5 Italian Neo Realism
1. The Bicycle Thief
2. Umberto D
3. Stromboli
4. La Strada
5. Rome, Open City
5 Lame Chick Flicks that I May or May Not Like (For Greta):
1. When Harry Met Sally (Lame)
2. Moonstruck (Lame)
3. You've Got Mail (Lame)
4. Only You (Lame)
5. The Notebook or How we died at the same time for dramatic Effect (Lame)
Sunday, March 15, 2009
The Shower at Shiloh.
"Well, back into the torture chamber..."
-Ross Cantrell
Our shower is the greatest shower in existence. The above quote is in reference to our shower's unfailing quality of having the force of a jet engine firing knives of burning lava at your person.
let's start with the basics. hot showers rule. I got love for people who dig the cold shower, but it's not my thing. I like to start out with reasonably warm water and gradually, over the course of the next 20 minutes, turn the dial up until the heat makes it humanly impossible to survive. by the end of any normal shower I can expect to be exhausted from being tested by fire and proving my worth. so I love hot showers.
which brings us to Shiloh. The hot water is SO. HOT. it doesn't make sense. our shower uses the two-dial approach for temperature adjustments, so you have to get the correct setting between the Hot and Cold Dials in order to have a successful experience. however, this is impossible. this is because the dials are SUPER sensitive, and any adjustment whatsoever is either going to leave you a rotting corpse of ashes as you are instantly burned alive, or frozen solid as liquid ice (yes. LIQUID. ICE.) rains down, fusing your body with the tub in the blink of an eye. the reason all of this could hypothetically happen is that the sheer amount of water that comes from this showerhead defies the imagination. seriously, go ahead. turn it on. try it. as soon as you turn that dial, your life as you know it is over. water comes out of the showerhead so fast that five minutes' exposure of water to the opposing wall would likely cause massive erosion and threaten extinction of seventeen species of whale, including the narwhal which is endangered.
So the procedure for taking an effective shower at Shiloh is as follows:
1. Prepare psychologically. this is something you will not be ready for, and you need to be able to face the consequences if you suffer 3rd degree burns to the back or stomach.
2. map out the fastest way to the hospital, taking into consideration the time of day and present traffic conditions in the Fairfax area.
3. put on Biosuit.
4. have a bucket of cold water on hand in case a fire breaks out from the lava spewing from the showerhead.
5. fill out an emergency contact form and give it to one of the Shiloh Residents.
6. take out a ruler and turn the Hot dial 2cm to the left
7. take the same ruler and turn the Cold dial 1.5cm to the right
8. RUN.
In conclusion, messing with the Shiloh Shower is like messing with a grizzly bear.
now you know, and knowing is half the battle.
-Ross Cantrell
Our shower is the greatest shower in existence. The above quote is in reference to our shower's unfailing quality of having the force of a jet engine firing knives of burning lava at your person.
let's start with the basics. hot showers rule. I got love for people who dig the cold shower, but it's not my thing. I like to start out with reasonably warm water and gradually, over the course of the next 20 minutes, turn the dial up until the heat makes it humanly impossible to survive. by the end of any normal shower I can expect to be exhausted from being tested by fire and proving my worth. so I love hot showers.
which brings us to Shiloh. The hot water is SO. HOT. it doesn't make sense. our shower uses the two-dial approach for temperature adjustments, so you have to get the correct setting between the Hot and Cold Dials in order to have a successful experience. however, this is impossible. this is because the dials are SUPER sensitive, and any adjustment whatsoever is either going to leave you a rotting corpse of ashes as you are instantly burned alive, or frozen solid as liquid ice (yes. LIQUID. ICE.) rains down, fusing your body with the tub in the blink of an eye. the reason all of this could hypothetically happen is that the sheer amount of water that comes from this showerhead defies the imagination. seriously, go ahead. turn it on. try it. as soon as you turn that dial, your life as you know it is over. water comes out of the showerhead so fast that five minutes' exposure of water to the opposing wall would likely cause massive erosion and threaten extinction of seventeen species of whale, including the narwhal which is endangered.
So the procedure for taking an effective shower at Shiloh is as follows:
1. Prepare psychologically. this is something you will not be ready for, and you need to be able to face the consequences if you suffer 3rd degree burns to the back or stomach.
2. map out the fastest way to the hospital, taking into consideration the time of day and present traffic conditions in the Fairfax area.
3. put on Biosuit.
4. have a bucket of cold water on hand in case a fire breaks out from the lava spewing from the showerhead.
5. fill out an emergency contact form and give it to one of the Shiloh Residents.
6. take out a ruler and turn the Hot dial 2cm to the left
7. take the same ruler and turn the Cold dial 1.5cm to the right
8. RUN.
In conclusion, messing with the Shiloh Shower is like messing with a grizzly bear.
now you know, and knowing is half the battle.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Taming of the Sink
When I first moved into Shiloh the sink in the kitchen was a violent beast. It would spray water everywhere, and doing the dishes for the first time was definitely a helter-skelter endeavor, with water spewing haphazardly in a plethora of direction. By the end I was covered in water, along with the floor and the surrounding areas. I was fed up and refused to use it, even coming to the point of buying paper plates and plastic utensils. Most of the time we do not bother to choose the Grace of learning to love what frustrates us, and instead choose to avoid it entirely.
One day I fortuitously observed Nathan washing his cereal bowl, water splattering everywhere. Nathan churlishly hit the water faucet several times until a steady stream of water came pouring out. Without question I followed suit and began to mimic this technique. For the next several days I became proficient with this approach, and instinctively did it everytime. Most of the time we do not bother to know how something works, but simply that it does.
A few days later I was in the kitchen and once again observed Nathan crassly swatting the sink to work. Jon looked at him befuddled and walked over to the sink, gently pulled the spout out, and produced the same effect resulting in a consistent peaceful stream of water. All we had to do was learn how the sink worked to know how to treat it. Most of the time we do not realize that there is always a higher way of doing things, other than the way we do it.
The higher way is often a painful blow to us because we can be just as unruly and obstinate as the sink in our kitchen. We treat knowledge of the alternatives as the swatting of a hand to our face, and when we do eventually come to the point of a consistent stream, it is because we have been boorishly beaten into submission.
Most of us have heard the phrase "experience is the best teacher," taking to heart its erroneous claim. Benjamin Franklin wisely states the higher alternative, "Experience keeps a dear school, yet fools learn in no other." What this knowingly implies is that the best teacher is not your experience, even though good lessons are learned, but instead the experiences of others should be the seed of knowledge and the applicability will be the fruit. The best teacher is the experiences of others who have already done it.
When you allow yourself to be open to the gentle taming of the Divine, you are able to follow an example higher than your own and be like a consistent stream of water without the swatting of a hand across your face. Gentle guidance is only earned through consistent example. If you are living it right, then you are being observed by others, testing to see what way works and what way does not. But if you are living it righteous, then you are not just being observed and tested for flaws, you are being followed, because the way you learned not only works, but is contagious. The swatting of the faucet does not tame the sink, it destroys it, and will only work if you are there to beat it. The taming of the sink comes from the Grace of a gentle pull.
"This year, or this month, or, more likely, this very day, we have failed to practise ourselves the kind of behaviour we expect from other people."
C. S. Lewis
-Sher
Friday, March 6, 2009
Our Sink Employs the "Get water on everything except what you're aiming for" Method of Working
From gchat:
me:what should I write about today
me:what should I write about today
Sherwin: maybe we should write about something from your perspective
and then my perspective
or the purple rugs that need to die already
me: that would be so tight
I'll write about the sink
yeah!
Sherwin: itll be like Vantage Point except not horrible
Our sink sucks.
As many of you know we don't have the cleanest sink. don't worry we had a roommate meeting (and by roommate meeting I mean we talked about photography and took pictures of random things in the kitchen for 45 minutes, discovered snow outside, and proceeded to drive around and do emergency-brake turns all through our neighborhood for an hour, then came back and went to sleep) and we're working on it. so if you're thinking of moving in, it's great! :)
When we first came to Shiloh I remember going over to the sink to get a glass of water. I was expecting a typical easy flow of water, but when I turned the sink on, fiery evil knives of water came shooting out in all directions. there was no "stream" or "tap" of water, but only a vicious "CHRREAAKKKKK" followed by "WHOOSH" and finally me yelling, "GAHH!!" as water got all over everything. the dishes, the table around the sink, my shirt, the floor, and I'm pretty sure water even hit my glasses. either that or it rained. only on my glasses. inside.
so we tried different techniques of getting around this problem, and tried to turn it on slow. but then water only drips from the edge of the spout, which is annoying. So one day I decided to smack it with my fist, and a perfect "shower-style" water pattern dripped elegantly into the sink. I of course flipped out and ran and told Sherwin how our sink finally works now, all you have to do is hit it! About a week later I'm in the kitchen with Jon, probably eating cereal and talking about how ironic it is that he was eating English Muffins, when I picked up my cereal bowl and took it over to the sink, turned it on, and slammed my fist down on the spigot, with rejoicing. Jon then looked at me puzzled and walked over next to me, turned off the sink, turned it back on, and gently pulled the spout, producing the very same result. perfect stream of water. then he laughed at me and I went into my room and cried and listened to Thursday. Just kidding. but that would've been pretty funny.
We had conquered the sink. It no longer had power over us. We could actually aim it at things in the sink and clean them!
at least, that's what we thought. one day, for no reason, the sink's spout reverted back to its true nature, and never returned from the Dark Side. Water spews in all directions now, and no amount of tugging, pulling, or slamming of fists alleviates our situation. it's virtually impossible to clean dishes with because it's so inaccurate. it defies physics. like, water comes out at 360 degrees. I can't explain it. in fact if you want to get a glass of water you have to put the cup literally over the spigot in order to have any hope of filling it up. It's pretty funny, and pretty annoying. Another thing that makes Shiloh the greatest house EVER!!
in other Shiloh-related NEWS (presented in sound byte form): Sherwin and I both had incredible weekends, Liz is funny, Nate Morris is SUPER geeky and sucks at life but is good at WoW, I find out that I'm an even bigger douche than I realized, Ross turns out to be a pretty good photographer, and we're all abstaining from seeing the Watchmen until Vinny comes in to town on Friday the 13th.
See ya!
Our sink sucks.
As many of you know we don't have the cleanest sink. don't worry we had a roommate meeting (and by roommate meeting I mean we talked about photography and took pictures of random things in the kitchen for 45 minutes, discovered snow outside, and proceeded to drive around and do emergency-brake turns all through our neighborhood for an hour, then came back and went to sleep) and we're working on it. so if you're thinking of moving in, it's great! :)
When we first came to Shiloh I remember going over to the sink to get a glass of water. I was expecting a typical easy flow of water, but when I turned the sink on, fiery evil knives of water came shooting out in all directions. there was no "stream" or "tap" of water, but only a vicious "CHRREAAKKKKK" followed by "WHOOSH" and finally me yelling, "GAHH!!" as water got all over everything. the dishes, the table around the sink, my shirt, the floor, and I'm pretty sure water even hit my glasses. either that or it rained. only on my glasses. inside.
so we tried different techniques of getting around this problem, and tried to turn it on slow. but then water only drips from the edge of the spout, which is annoying. So one day I decided to smack it with my fist, and a perfect "shower-style" water pattern dripped elegantly into the sink. I of course flipped out and ran and told Sherwin how our sink finally works now, all you have to do is hit it! About a week later I'm in the kitchen with Jon, probably eating cereal and talking about how ironic it is that he was eating English Muffins, when I picked up my cereal bowl and took it over to the sink, turned it on, and slammed my fist down on the spigot, with rejoicing. Jon then looked at me puzzled and walked over next to me, turned off the sink, turned it back on, and gently pulled the spout, producing the very same result. perfect stream of water. then he laughed at me and I went into my room and cried and listened to Thursday. Just kidding. but that would've been pretty funny.
We had conquered the sink. It no longer had power over us. We could actually aim it at things in the sink and clean them!
at least, that's what we thought. one day, for no reason, the sink's spout reverted back to its true nature, and never returned from the Dark Side. Water spews in all directions now, and no amount of tugging, pulling, or slamming of fists alleviates our situation. it's virtually impossible to clean dishes with because it's so inaccurate. it defies physics. like, water comes out at 360 degrees. I can't explain it. in fact if you want to get a glass of water you have to put the cup literally over the spigot in order to have any hope of filling it up. It's pretty funny, and pretty annoying. Another thing that makes Shiloh the greatest house EVER!!
in other Shiloh-related NEWS (presented in sound byte form): Sherwin and I both had incredible weekends, Liz is funny, Nate Morris is SUPER geeky and sucks at life but is good at WoW, I find out that I'm an even bigger douche than I realized, Ross turns out to be a pretty good photographer, and we're all abstaining from seeing the Watchmen until Vinny comes in to town on Friday the 13th.
See ya!
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Look. See. Feel. Do.
Every morning I usually walk from Metro Center to my building in Gallery Place. It's like clockwork the way I walk down F Street and make a left at 6th, that most times I don't even think about it. Today I was stopped by a friendly older gentleman who was late for a job interview and he needed directions to a building that was near my office. I offered to walk with him.
He initiated a conversation with me about my usual commute and my occupation. He would sometimes stop in mid conversation to point out something he noticed. He would say something about the colors of buildings, or of street names, and he had a funny way of saying good morning or smiling at everyone that crossed our path. After I had walked him to his building I began to realize how many things I did not notice about my familiar walk, or even how many people I pass every morning.
Boredom of the familiar does not come from a fullness of knowledge, it comes from an overabundance of pride. This results in stagnant growth and the selfish pursuit of greener grasses. When pride closes your eyes you see nothing but your own superiority and your disdain for the unfamiliar grows, simply because it would be an insult for you to not know it. Only when you turn your head upward and open your eyes do you see the entirety of the ever expanding unfamiliar. You are precisely placed for purposes higher than conventional reason, so look around.
-Sher
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
People Seriously Need to CHILL OUT on the Metro
Yesterday Sherwin and I rode the Metro. This is normal. Every morning we wake up and drive to the metro together. I stop at macpherson square, he gets of at metro center.
What was not normal was tuesday morning's events that created a perfect storm
of passive-aggressive metro douchiness that few humans have the pleasure of witnessing in their pitiful, frail lifetimes.
Allow me to begin. Sherwin and I's conversation on the metro every morning consists of me trying to avoid silence by being as loud as possible, and Sherwin just going along with it because you can't stop me. I hate it when people are stupid and quiet on the metro so I just counteract it by practically yelling. try it sometime, it's fun! Anyway we got on the train at Vienna and sat down in the chairs in the center of the seating area, which are the ones that are back-to-back with each other. We were having our normal, loud conversation. I think this time we were talking about how great The Watchmen is going to be and how we need to read the book before we see the movie next weekend. Then we started talking about how late we were every morning, and Sherwin said something to the effect of, "you should wake up early so you can...READ A BOOK or READ THE PAPER..." and I despised that comment because I perceive that as a yuppie trait that I refuse to take part in, so I said even louder than I had been talking before, "DON'T YOU PUT THAT ON ME SHERWIN, DON'T YOU EVER PUT THAT ON ME!" obviously I was joking but a woman in the seat directly behind us reared her passive aggressive head around and gave us a really long, exasperated "SHHHHHHHHHHH."
Sherwin and I lost it. We started laughing hysterically. Sherwin then proceeded to say, so that she could hear, "DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?" and then "DOES THAT MEAN I HAVE TO BE QUIET OR JUST YOU?" and we tried to get a little louder as the train ride progressed. People started crowding. West Falls Church Station was jammed with people trying to get onto our train, so it filled up quickly. As many of you know, when a metro train gets filled to the brim, people start crowding the door, and inevitably some idiot doesn't realize their backpack is preventing the doors from closing, and Metro trains don't move if the doors can't close, so you have to sit there at the station waiting for this ridiculous person to realize how he's quickly ruining everyone's day by holding up the train, and the metro operator gets on the loudspeaker and says something like, "PLEASE STAND CLEAR OF THE DOORS." and flicks the doors closing sound a bunch of times until the train starts moving again.
but the best kind of Metro operator, the kind we had that fateful day, is the "teaching" metro operator. Here is a transcription of what the metro operator said:
"PLEASE STAND CLEAR OF THE DOORS. CUSTOMERS ON THE PLATFORM, PLEASE DIRECT YOUR ATTENTION TO THE SCREEN AND YOU WILL SEE THAT THERE IS ANOTHER ORANGE LINE TRAIN ONE MINUTE BEHIND THIS TRAIN. ONE MINUTE. CUSTOMERS ON THE TRAIN, THIS TRAIN WILL NOT MOVE UNTIL ALL THE DOORS ARE CLOSED, IF I CANNOT GET THE DOORS CLOSED I WILL HAVE TO OFFLOAD THIS TRAIN."
it was great, it was like watching a dad scold his child. I was so happy.
By the time we arrived at Rosslyn Station the train was PACKED full of people. Rosslyn is where a lot of people get on and a lot of people get off, and since no one talks on the metro, this is always a tricky station to overcome. so on this particular morning, on a particularly packed train, people were particularly pissed. As the train came to a stop, one of the ladies that was sitting behind us got up and yelled--literally yelled, "EXCUSE ME I NEED TO GET OUT, GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR PEOPLE. EXCUSE ME!" There was this guy in the door but he wasn't really in the way, and the chick who shhh'd us earlier mumbled under her breath, "he probably doesn't speak english" At this point sherwin whipped out the douchiest and most awesome comment I've ever heard in awhile: "it's okay, she was fat. she was really, really fat. I understand." Geez sherwin I didn't know you had it in ya. but for all you people who think sherwin sucks now you're wrong. I mean this woman was not small, and the dude wasn't really in the way.
That was our morning metro ride. but the fun didn't stop there.
on the way back I was by myself in another cramped car, just trying to make it home. it was a long day and I was ready for chillin. and this dude definitely let a huge fart go right before he got off the train. directly next to me. I mean it was lit up. I was actually impressed. but he's still a jerk.
Emcee MC
What was not normal was tuesday morning's events that created a perfect storm
of passive-aggressive metro douchiness that few humans have the pleasure of witnessing in their pitiful, frail lifetimes.Allow me to begin. Sherwin and I's conversation on the metro every morning consists of me trying to avoid silence by being as loud as possible, and Sherwin just going along with it because you can't stop me. I hate it when people are stupid and quiet on the metro so I just counteract it by practically yelling. try it sometime, it's fun! Anyway we got on the train at Vienna and sat down in the chairs in the center of the seating area, which are the ones that are back-to-back with each other. We were having our normal, loud conversation. I think this time we were talking about how great The Watchmen is going to be and how we need to read the book before we see the movie next weekend. Then we started talking about how late we were every morning, and Sherwin said something to the effect of, "you should wake up early so you can...READ A BOOK or READ THE PAPER..." and I despised that comment because I perceive that as a yuppie trait that I refuse to take part in, so I said even louder than I had been talking before, "DON'T YOU PUT THAT ON ME SHERWIN, DON'T YOU EVER PUT THAT ON ME!" obviously I was joking but a woman in the seat directly behind us reared her passive aggressive head around and gave us a really long, exasperated "SHHHHHHHHHHH."
Sherwin and I lost it. We started laughing hysterically. Sherwin then proceeded to say, so that she could hear, "DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?" and then "DOES THAT MEAN I HAVE TO BE QUIET OR JUST YOU?" and we tried to get a little louder as the train ride progressed. People started crowding. West Falls Church Station was jammed with people trying to get onto our train, so it filled up quickly. As many of you know, when a metro train gets filled to the brim, people start crowding the door, and inevitably some idiot doesn't realize their backpack is preventing the doors from closing, and Metro trains don't move if the doors can't close, so you have to sit there at the station waiting for this ridiculous person to realize how he's quickly ruining everyone's day by holding up the train, and the metro operator gets on the loudspeaker and says something like, "PLEASE STAND CLEAR OF THE DOORS." and flicks the doors closing sound a bunch of times until the train starts moving again.
but the best kind of Metro operator, the kind we had that fateful day, is the "teaching" metro operator. Here is a transcription of what the metro operator said:
"PLEASE STAND CLEAR OF THE DOORS. CUSTOMERS ON THE PLATFORM, PLEASE DIRECT YOUR ATTENTION TO THE SCREEN AND YOU WILL SEE THAT THERE IS ANOTHER ORANGE LINE TRAIN ONE MINUTE BEHIND THIS TRAIN. ONE MINUTE. CUSTOMERS ON THE TRAIN, THIS TRAIN WILL NOT MOVE UNTIL ALL THE DOORS ARE CLOSED, IF I CANNOT GET THE DOORS CLOSED I WILL HAVE TO OFFLOAD THIS TRAIN."
it was great, it was like watching a dad scold his child. I was so happy.
By the time we arrived at Rosslyn Station the train was PACKED full of people. Rosslyn is where a lot of people get on and a lot of people get off, and since no one talks on the metro, this is always a tricky station to overcome. so on this particular morning, on a particularly packed train, people were particularly pissed. As the train came to a stop, one of the ladies that was sitting behind us got up and yelled--literally yelled, "EXCUSE ME I NEED TO GET OUT, GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR PEOPLE. EXCUSE ME!" There was this guy in the door but he wasn't really in the way, and the chick who shhh'd us earlier mumbled under her breath, "he probably doesn't speak english" At this point sherwin whipped out the douchiest and most awesome comment I've ever heard in awhile: "it's okay, she was fat. she was really, really fat. I understand." Geez sherwin I didn't know you had it in ya. but for all you people who think sherwin sucks now you're wrong. I mean this woman was not small, and the dude wasn't really in the way.
That was our morning metro ride. but the fun didn't stop there.
on the way back I was by myself in another cramped car, just trying to make it home. it was a long day and I was ready for chillin. and this dude definitely let a huge fart go right before he got off the train. directly next to me. I mean it was lit up. I was actually impressed. but he's still a jerk.
Emcee MC
Flatlined
Last night Luke Rabin and I went to Buffalo Wing Factory in Chantilly to partake in their famous Flatliner challenge. These wings are made with a mixture of scotch bonnet peppers and mace. They are largely inedible, apart from the context of this challenge and no one without a proven resume of spicy eating should even attempt to eat these for fun. You will be humbled.
Luke and I along with my friend Janelle arived around 9PM where we met my other friends Scott and Adam. We sat down and a waiter stopped by to take our order. Luke immediately announced in proud declaration "I am doing the flatliner challenge. Can I have some milk and water" The waiter came back a few minute later and apologized for the restaurant running out of milk. Things looked grim but we trudged foward. I settled for water. Luke quickly got up and told the table "I need to get dressed." and the table responded with looks of puzzled confusion.
Luke comes back a few minutes later in a red bandanna and trucker style muscle shirt. The clearly jaded wait staff is not amused. Our waitress comes back with our orders and she puts down the Flatliners before our eyes, and immediately the smell hits...and hits. We winced in pain.
To the naked eye they look like any other restaurant hot wing entree. But to the open nostril they reek of death and descruction. My entire life flashed before my very eyes and I suddenly realized that I had not achieved everything I wanted to do with my life. This was the smell of life assessing contemplation, which is the best kind. It reaches far beyond supercilious notions of self awareness, and moves you to a place of self sacrifice and brings you one step closer to the grandeur of the sublime. If Luke and I could get through 10 wings, our lives would be changed forever. We started our journey.
The first bite is not so bad, even the second and third. "These aren't so bad," Luke commented.
It's when the scotch bonnet peppers and mace are introduced to your body and are invited to its innermost sanctums, given a drink and a leather chair and a leather bound book and then allowed to settle in, that is when chaos hits. When chaos hits your body, the first result is knowledge of pain, then the pain intensifies, and the aftermath is usually fear. This is what separates the brave, from the cowardly, and proves the genuineness of the desire of the targeted goal. Do you want it? We wanted it.
After wing 4# Luke and I were ready to call it quits. Our bodies were screaming mutiny and our own sweat was starting to burn our skin. My vision was blurred from the tears that burned out of my eyes. My mouth felt like I had just gargled with tiny needles and then swallowed. Luke fared no better and paced around the restaurant, unable to sit still. The wait staff looked at us in horror. They brought a trashcan and put it beside Luke's chair in the event of vomiting.
This is where Luke and I diverged on wildly different paths. Luke chose to go outside and finish his meal by a trashcan outside, unable to keep down 1 out of every 3 bites. I have run marathons and was on the crew team for almost two years. I know pain. And I know that it can be overcome most times by denial. You focus on a goal, and you deny the pain until it is completed, and you deal with the repurrcussions later. I chose to get it over with and eat the rest in quick succession. The last bite felt like a mixture of relief and the realization that the pain had only just begun. Victory was mine, but the results made it hollow. The goal was completed, yet the results had to catch up. I immediately began shaking in cold sweat and was unable to stop for the next few minutes.
Meanwhile Luke was inching towards the goal, barely able to maintain or swallow the food. Frustration and anger set in, but his determination only grew. He soon finished and we returned to the horror of the wait staff. The materialism of our self awareness returned and we acquiesced. Our selfish epiphanies drowned in a lake of fire, self sacrifice turned into survival. And we realized we couldn't save the world and that we were needy. We were exactly where we were suppose to be, and that we just needed to keep on moving. To be consistent through the pain, because someday, if you live it right, others will depend on you when they are needy. And if we let it, we can move out of denial towards the embrace of assurance, that pain is only a season, but the glory of the sublime will heal your wounds forever. We drank our water with joy.
-Sher
*Luke only puked once if you count a series of pukes in succession one puke.
Luke and I along with my friend Janelle arived around 9PM where we met my other friends Scott and Adam. We sat down and a waiter stopped by to take our order. Luke immediately announced in proud declaration "I am doing the flatliner challenge. Can I have some milk and water" The waiter came back a few minute later and apologized for the restaurant running out of milk. Things looked grim but we trudged foward. I settled for water. Luke quickly got up and told the table "I need to get dressed." and the table responded with looks of puzzled confusion.
Luke comes back a few minutes later in a red bandanna and trucker style muscle shirt. The clearly jaded wait staff is not amused. Our waitress comes back with our orders and she puts down the Flatliners before our eyes, and immediately the smell hits...and hits. We winced in pain.
To the naked eye they look like any other restaurant hot wing entree. But to the open nostril they reek of death and descruction. My entire life flashed before my very eyes and I suddenly realized that I had not achieved everything I wanted to do with my life. This was the smell of life assessing contemplation, which is the best kind. It reaches far beyond supercilious notions of self awareness, and moves you to a place of self sacrifice and brings you one step closer to the grandeur of the sublime. If Luke and I could get through 10 wings, our lives would be changed forever. We started our journey.
The first bite is not so bad, even the second and third. "These aren't so bad," Luke commented.
It's when the scotch bonnet peppers and mace are introduced to your body and are invited to its innermost sanctums, given a drink and a leather chair and a leather bound book and then allowed to settle in, that is when chaos hits. When chaos hits your body, the first result is knowledge of pain, then the pain intensifies, and the aftermath is usually fear. This is what separates the brave, from the cowardly, and proves the genuineness of the desire of the targeted goal. Do you want it? We wanted it.
After wing 4# Luke and I were ready to call it quits. Our bodies were screaming mutiny and our own sweat was starting to burn our skin. My vision was blurred from the tears that burned out of my eyes. My mouth felt like I had just gargled with tiny needles and then swallowed. Luke fared no better and paced around the restaurant, unable to sit still. The wait staff looked at us in horror. They brought a trashcan and put it beside Luke's chair in the event of vomiting.
This is where Luke and I diverged on wildly different paths. Luke chose to go outside and finish his meal by a trashcan outside, unable to keep down 1 out of every 3 bites. I have run marathons and was on the crew team for almost two years. I know pain. And I know that it can be overcome most times by denial. You focus on a goal, and you deny the pain until it is completed, and you deal with the repurrcussions later. I chose to get it over with and eat the rest in quick succession. The last bite felt like a mixture of relief and the realization that the pain had only just begun. Victory was mine, but the results made it hollow. The goal was completed, yet the results had to catch up. I immediately began shaking in cold sweat and was unable to stop for the next few minutes.
Meanwhile Luke was inching towards the goal, barely able to maintain or swallow the food. Frustration and anger set in, but his determination only grew. He soon finished and we returned to the horror of the wait staff. The materialism of our self awareness returned and we acquiesced. Our selfish epiphanies drowned in a lake of fire, self sacrifice turned into survival. And we realized we couldn't save the world and that we were needy. We were exactly where we were suppose to be, and that we just needed to keep on moving. To be consistent through the pain, because someday, if you live it right, others will depend on you when they are needy. And if we let it, we can move out of denial towards the embrace of assurance, that pain is only a season, but the glory of the sublime will heal your wounds forever. We drank our water with joy.
-Sher
*Luke only puked once if you count a series of pukes in succession one puke.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Shiloh's Cereal Bowls are Absurd
I am a huge cereal fan.
oh yes, it's no secret. I love cereal! In fact, I eat so much cereal (between two and five bowls per sitting) that if I were to average out my cereal consumption, it would likely come to about two bowls of cereal for every day I have been living on This Green Earth. When I eat cereal I like to concurrently indulge in fine reading. I know what you're thinking. The only example of fine reading you can come up with is Calvin and Hobbes, supplemented solely by The Far Side Gallery 4, which is precisely what I read when I eat cereal! The Calvin and Hobbes/cereal combo is unstoppable. I mostly eat the classics: Pops, Golden Grahams, Frosted Flakes, Trix, and my personal favorite, Fruity Pebbles. But (and this is a verifiable fact) I cannot physically resist getting the newest cereals:
*at Safeway*
Jon: hey Nathan c'mon let's go you've been standing in the cereal aisle for 10 minutes, we've gotta pay for this stuff and get back to Shiloh.
Nathan: Well why don't YOU try to make a decision when you're faced with Lucky Charms or the New Golden Frosted Flakes! This is hard!!
Jon: guh. *walks away shaking head*
So anyway, it stands to reason that, enjoying the experience of eating cereal as much as I do, I'd need the hardware to match my consumption. You have to start thinking not only about WHAT you're eating, but HOW you're eating it. I'll give an example. When you eat Frosted Mini-Wheats, you don't need a deep spoon, because Frosted Mini-Wheats soaks up a ton of milk. The mini-wheat itself is the milk reservoir. if you use a deep spoon you're going to have too much milk per spoonful, resulting in an unpleasant cereal-eating experience. The cereal bowl similarly needs to fit certain criteria. If your bowl is too shallow, you won't be able to add enough milk, if it's too deep you'll get too much milk, and if the circumference is below a certain threshold, you won't be able to pour enough cereal to have a decent meal.
so tell me, why am I dealing with THIS------>
every day?
I don't know if you can tell from the picture or not, but this bowl has the walls of Jericho. That's right, I can't see over the edge, that's how high these bowls are. Impossible to eat cereal out of. you can never be quite sure whether or not you've put in too much milk or too much cereal. These are the Bowls of Shiloh, just another reason this house rules so much!! We have about 50 of these things. They look great, they feel nice, but they pretty much suck for eating cereal out of. And there's no decent alternative, so until I get off my lazy butt and pick up a few cool bowls from the local thrift store, I'll have to subject myself to these oversized chinese teacups. guh.
At this point I know what you're thinking: "Nathan stop complaining; at least you have cool spoons to eat cereal with." Oh, really? Have you been over here? Do you even know who I am? Have you looked at your misshapen bowl of cereal, wondering how it could get any worse, only to realize that
THESE THINGS---->
are all you have to work with?
I'm not sure if you can tell, but this spoon is flat. 100%. Flat. Imagine trying to eat cereal out of a bowl thats main purpose is grinding herbs, struggling against all odds to get any inkling of milk to water the parched tongue, only to realize you're using an undersized aluminum spatula. It's like in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie when the turtles are all in April's antique store getting the crap kicked out of them by the Foot when suddenly Master Tatsu flips on the light switch and rolls in with like 100 more Foot Clan with axes. "Someone should tell them...we're the good guys." That's the level of frustration we're dealing with here.
I'd like to close with some wisdom I've picked up over the years.
1.) Spend money on the things and people you appreciate.
2.) Devote time to learning all you can.
3.) Stop being so lazy and effing do something with your life.
4.) Hang out with people.
5.) Jesus is the reason I am alive right now, and if you knew what I knew, you would want to know him too.
6.) Cereal is awesome.
My last request is this: if anyone reading this gets the chance to throw down on some Lucky Charms anytime soon, do it, because I sure as H E double-chopsticks won't be able to.
with love, wishing I could sit down and eat some effing cereal,
Emcee Mission Control
oh yes, it's no secret. I love cereal! In fact, I eat so much cereal (between two and five bowls per sitting) that if I were to average out my cereal consumption, it would likely come to about two bowls of cereal for every day I have been living on This Green Earth. When I eat cereal I like to concurrently indulge in fine reading. I know what you're thinking. The only example of fine reading you can come up with is Calvin and Hobbes, supplemented solely by The Far Side Gallery 4, which is precisely what I read when I eat cereal! The Calvin and Hobbes/cereal combo is unstoppable. I mostly eat the classics: Pops, Golden Grahams, Frosted Flakes, Trix, and my personal favorite, Fruity Pebbles. But (and this is a verifiable fact) I cannot physically resist getting the newest cereals:
*at Safeway*
Jon: hey Nathan c'mon let's go you've been standing in the cereal aisle for 10 minutes, we've gotta pay for this stuff and get back to Shiloh.
Nathan: Well why don't YOU try to make a decision when you're faced with Lucky Charms or the New Golden Frosted Flakes! This is hard!!
Jon: guh. *walks away shaking head*
So anyway, it stands to reason that, enjoying the experience of eating cereal as much as I do, I'd need the hardware to match my consumption. You have to start thinking not only about WHAT you're eating, but HOW you're eating it. I'll give an example. When you eat Frosted Mini-Wheats, you don't need a deep spoon, because Frosted Mini-Wheats soaks up a ton of milk. The mini-wheat itself is the milk reservoir. if you use a deep spoon you're going to have too much milk per spoonful, resulting in an unpleasant cereal-eating experience. The cereal bowl similarly needs to fit certain criteria. If your bowl is too shallow, you won't be able to add enough milk, if it's too deep you'll get too much milk, and if the circumference is below a certain threshold, you won't be able to pour enough cereal to have a decent meal.
so tell me, why am I dealing with THIS------>every day?
I don't know if you can tell from the picture or not, but this bowl has the walls of Jericho. That's right, I can't see over the edge, that's how high these bowls are. Impossible to eat cereal out of. you can never be quite sure whether or not you've put in too much milk or too much cereal. These are the Bowls of Shiloh, just another reason this house rules so much!! We have about 50 of these things. They look great, they feel nice, but they pretty much suck for eating cereal out of. And there's no decent alternative, so until I get off my lazy butt and pick up a few cool bowls from the local thrift store, I'll have to subject myself to these oversized chinese teacups. guh.
At this point I know what you're thinking: "Nathan stop complaining; at least you have cool spoons to eat cereal with." Oh, really? Have you been over here? Do you even know who I am? Have you looked at your misshapen bowl of cereal, wondering how it could get any worse, only to realize that
THESE THINGS---->
are all you have to work with?
I'm not sure if you can tell, but this spoon is flat. 100%. Flat. Imagine trying to eat cereal out of a bowl thats main purpose is grinding herbs, struggling against all odds to get any inkling of milk to water the parched tongue, only to realize you're using an undersized aluminum spatula. It's like in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie when the turtles are all in April's antique store getting the crap kicked out of them by the Foot when suddenly Master Tatsu flips on the light switch and rolls in with like 100 more Foot Clan with axes. "Someone should tell them...we're the good guys." That's the level of frustration we're dealing with here.
I'd like to close with some wisdom I've picked up over the years.
1.) Spend money on the things and people you appreciate.
2.) Devote time to learning all you can.
3.) Stop being so lazy and effing do something with your life.
4.) Hang out with people.
5.) Jesus is the reason I am alive right now, and if you knew what I knew, you would want to know him too.
6.) Cereal is awesome.
My last request is this: if anyone reading this gets the chance to throw down on some Lucky Charms anytime soon, do it, because I sure as H E double-chopsticks won't be able to.
with love, wishing I could sit down and eat some effing cereal,
Emcee Mission Control
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