I Wrote This In Math

Spoken In The Cold


by Miles Rausch

“I choose white” – bright like starlight,
But pure chrystallite on its space-wise flight.
So, dot dot dot, here’s fallen snow –
“All dressed up with no place to go.”

Blanc, like a bride, blushing with cold,
Made frozen and bitter with no one to hold.
She closes her eyes, but try as she hides
She can’t force back feelings. Her loneliness sighs.

This winter she’s gone out, spaced apart – tossed about,
Launched into the air, floating haphazard routes.
She lands upon earth, hard, sans sun’s mirth,
And lays there forever as snow without worth.

Girls Are Evil 2

You know you’ve gotten too far when you see signs for Sioux Falls. Today, I drove right past my exit. I got a little worried when I saw billboards for Dell Rapids, and then I got very nervous when I saw “Sioux Falls 10 Miles.” I mean, I love seeing my name in white, but this meant that I was far far away from home. So, I turned around.

“This is great,” I thought. Just another way to top off my weekend. If you noticed a distinct change in my mood today, and you wouldn’t unless you showed up before play practice, it was because this weekend I confronted my mystery girl.

I could give you her name, but what does it matter – she’s gone. I have a bad feeling from the beginning, but my intuitions were confirmed. She didn’t quite say no. Girls don’t say no to me. If I even get to the part where I can ask her out, then she says yes. But usually, I get almost to that part, and the girl in question wigs out. She starts to feel bad because she knows she has to say “No”, but she doesn’t want to hurt my feelings because I’m a “nice guy,” but she just doesn’t think of me “like that.”

This post will not be very humorous.

Waaaa?

What is it about me that makes girls cry when I ask them out? How does that work? When I ask a girl out, she either really likes me, and says “yes” right away and we’re quite happy for a spell, or she breaks down and I get the “I don’t want to lose you as a friend” speech. So, now I have to decide if “love” is overrated or “friendship” is overrated. And where is the line? How does one tell?

That’s what gets guys messed up. How are we supposed to know when you bloody girls are ready for more than friends? How are we supposed to know if you’re being serious or if you’re not? I can’t read minds. I tried. We sat around in seventh grade and tried to send each other shapes when we didn’t have band, and the results were less than average. I can’t recieve or send messages via ESP, so why do you keep trying to get them out that way? If girls weren’t so sure that they have to hide their traces, we wouldn’t have this problem. If the female gender wasn’t so bloody paranoid, we’d all be happier.

Lighten up, female gender

Geez. Quit trying to knab guys. Or if you aren’t, start doing it. Or if you don’t really care for guys, then you shouldn’t be taking advice from me. Wanna know a secret about guys? It’s never that complicated. The answer for a guy is always simple. If you think she likes you, then you’re gonna find out you’re right. That or she liked you and changed her mind. We don’t dwell.

Stop dwelling, female gender

Things were simple once. Maybe it’s that I’m not a “guy” but nothing gives me more ulcers than girls. So many signals. Maybe it’s that I’m sensitive to the signals, and that I misread a lot anyway, but it makes life pretty damn complicated. And I can’t even get my ASM to work properly, so, God knows, why my screen flashed grey lines. It supposed to be a solid color!! Ok, I’m getting off topic. In fact, I’m ranting.

I’ll stop.

So, yeah, I got turned down. Then, on Saturday night, a friend from Sioux Falls (she’s an xray technical engineer… kinda) was on MSN, and we chatted, and she came over at 900. So, Alicia (the girl), Bryce (my bro), Lindsey (Bryce’s g/f), and me (single still) all watched the Lion King. That’s actually a good movie, even as old as it is.

So, the weekend wasn’t all bad. Alicia’s cool. But, yeah.

Girls are Evil : Part 2

Wooo Haaa

Check it out! My “Pizza What?” story got published at uber.nu. Uber.nu is a daily webzine that is editted by Ben Brown who has also been mentioned on the site before.

Please check it out! I am so stoked that he published it.

Also – read what I wrote last night before this.

Train of Thought

“Hey, roomy. Did you see that I got the new Seether video?”
“Oh, yeah? Is it on your whack?” (snicker) , (snicker)
“No. Yeah. It is now, Miles.”

There we sat, Adam and I, in our solitude. We sat comfortable in our own quiet little worlds, set easily within the span of our expansive, luxurious room. I turned and walked to the hot tub, where the masseuse was getting the oil warmed. I smiled. It’s really the little things that make life worth it.

Suddenly, Adam broke the space. “Hey, did I tell you that … uh .. I also … uh … got … that …” As his ellipses of thought traversed the span between us, through the llama farm and over the chocolate milk brook, my imagination broke my mental space. I asked myself, what would it be like to travel on –

Adam Hafner’s Train of Thought

by Miles Rausch

Part I: The Journey.

It was a chilly, and possibly blustery, evening as Jasmine and I stood, arm in arm for warmth. The train pulled up with it’s brilliant red engine, and it’s solid black passenger cars. The pistons pumped with the mighty footfalls of a giant of lore, then suddenly they stopped and the mightier brakes engaged, throwing sparks into the air beside and underneath the train.

Jasmine turned to me. I could see the excitement in her eyes. She didn’t need to say anything. It’s not often that a pair of poor, underprivileged street cleaners, like ourselves, got to ride on the fabled train of thought. I breathed deeply the open air. We were lucky. This particular station, located in the heavy thinking portion of Adam’s brain, had hardly any thoughts to disrupt the train. Mostly visitors boarded here. We were also lucky in that the usual oppressive hot air front had passed on this October departure.

We got on. I was so racked with excitement that I soon became sick in the bathroom and had to lay down for several minutes. Then the train started. It heaved forward with the push of Paul Bunyan himself, giving us an anticipated rush forward on down the tracks.

We sped into busier parts of the brain. Through the portion for talking, and then to the lesser populated region for listening. We saw wondrous sites and a couple in the next car came by to share a spot of tea with us. They were a polite couple, and we discovered that they were going to visit their son in the olfactory suburbs. They told us stories. Stories that I, one day, will share with my kindred as if I, myself, were at those places that they spake of.

We neared the center of the brain. This is what Jasmine and I had waited for so long to see. Our grandfather had come from this area. He had been a translator, but he had grown incompetent with age and soon took to less intensive jobs. It was a dream of his to visit the land of his birth. Too bad we didn’t have enough money for three.

Jasmine and I started to share this story with the Oudoors when we heard a scream. It seemed to come from in front of us. I noticed the high pitch it had, and it seemed to go on forever. We dashed out into the hallway, and it was at that moment, when I saw the car ahead of us compacting itself strangely, that I realized what I heard was not a scream at all. The sound was the squeal of the breaks, the twisting of its metal, the destruction of our train.

Part II: The Derailment.

I can, now, only imagine what the wreck suggested from the air. A snake of cold black, a head of red, slithering it’s way at the speed of an impulse, mounting ranges and dashing through valleys, suddenly and violently stopped. A beautiful invention of man met head on by a beautiful creation of nature, and the resultant carnage. The train derailed terribly. It broke into many parts, destroyed trees and baggage, and took many many lives. Car after car piled upon car after car as the momentum of our journey caught up with us.

Finally, it all stopped. It was dark where Jasmine and I were. We were on the grass, I think, and I think the train covered us like a distorted metal tent. I dared not to move.

Then the wreck began to slide. We were not on a decline. Nay, we were quite right flat, but the wreck was moving as if it were being pulled by something. I crawled out from under the car. I pulled my sister out with me, out into the air and the sun, and we turned to the direction that the train was lurching. There in front of us was a black hole. It was approximately 20 feet in diameter, and it pulled debris in with indiscriminate taste. I heard a voice, a faint voice, say “Who would leave a black hole next to a train track anyway?” but we were all too worried, too distraught, to answer his rhetorical question.

Then I felt it on me. The gravity was pushing me, pulling me, towards the black, gaping … hole. Jasmine, all at once, was swept up and taken in as if she were nothing. Having more man meat to me, I was able to hold off for several more seconds, but I too succumbed to the force.

I was off the ground – I was in the air. Then I was in the black. I could see for miles, but I could see nothing of my sister, the train, or anything else that had been taken hostage by this abomination of nature. All I could see was a single word. Solid, large letters of white against the forever black background. The word –

Part III: The Conclusion.

“Our Lady Peace song?” … what?
“What?” I murmured.
“I said, ‘did I tell you that I got that new Our Lady Peace song?’ Innocent?”
“Oh, no. You didn’t. Sorry – I spaced out for a second.”
“That’s okay – my train of thought completely derailed on that one. Hope everyone’s okay.” And he laughed hard – naive to the reality of it. But inside I thought the same thing:
I hope everyone’s okay.
I hope to God they’re okay.

Shooting Start

Well, kids, another day is gone. I’ve gotten a lot of noise about my post yesterday. I got three MSN conversations from one person, completely blown off by another, and an email from someone I’ve never met asking for more information. Shmoly gesus. I seem to know how to create a sensation. I think I should clarify somethings.

1. She doesn’t live at DSU

Of course, there is always the possiblity that I’m making her up, but that aside, she doesn’t live at DSU. I implied that because I am a dirty, sneaky little devil and it gives me pleasure to use words like weapons, but I never said it. Ha ha ha – you all fell for it. Fools.

2. She’s not in any of your classes

See the above box to tell why.

3. She is not your sister

You know who I’m talking about.

4. She does not have a deformity/birthmark and that is why I’m keeping her secret

You people are shallow and sick.

5. You cannot “have her after me”

Carl. Get your own.

Does this help? Is it my style? Is it my delivery? What makes people react like this to my writing? I’ve had similar lashbacks before. People who think they know what I thought when I wrote something actually have no idea what I thought or why I thought it or what I’m thinking now.

Like this: I was on my way to the Dakota Prarie Playhouse for play practice today. It was around 9:20 pm, and it was dark out. Suddenly a bright point of light streaked its way across the sky. I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not going to tell you what I wished for. Besides, my mom read this blog. Naw, I’m just kidding. I didn’t wish at all.

How can you not wish at a shooting star? Easy. I looked at it with this stark confusion, like I didn’t know what was going on. And a voice in my head said, “You should make a wish” but nothing happened. I just stood there dumbfounded, like this was the best thing to ever happen to me or the worst. And then it was gone, and I realized that I had stopped walking.

What do YOU think it means? It’s a true story, but it’s fitting enought to post. Let me know your thoughts.

Girls Are Evil

I had never before considered it. Could they really have a plan? Could they really have some sort of grand scheme that we are all merely pegs in? (I know I know – don’t end a sentence with a preposition!) I may have stumbled onto something that will, more than likely, end in some sort of apocolyptic Male VS Female battle for the world, but let’s hope it doesn’t. I can’t hit a girl.

Let me explain.

I have a crush

Those of you live in Madison, I won’t tell you so don’t ask me. Those of you who don’t, send me an email and maybe I’ll drop a hint. And plus, I’m probably making this up. But, as of lately, I’ve become frustrated with this vixen, and have taken to IM counseling. A friend of mine, whom I trust because she doesn’t live around here, came online. Since we’ve discussed girl/guy problems before, I asked her for advice. P.S. She lives in Israel – the country.

rauschpax: Well, still confused about that girl.

Mellon Collie: why

did you try anything?

rauschpax: Well, okay. I go online, make myself totally available and she
doesn’t talk to me. She always makes me talk first. I’m getting sick of it.

Mellon Collie: oh, thats what Elad used to do with me

He would say he doesn’t notice when people come on line

rauschpax: Did that strategy work?

Mellon Collie: well, I hate him now and we haven’t spoken in two months

so no

Dead end already! What was I to do. My tried and true method of “wait it out, suckah” had just gone down in flames by a member of the sex I was trying to seduce. Ayelet, the girl I’m talking to in this conversation, told me to go online, and wait. Right. That’ll work. She asks for more info on the story. I give her a quick summation of the specs. This is what she has to say.

Mellon Collie: well… I don’t know. I guess it’s harder if you’re a boy
girls have… ok this is going to sound stupid so I’ll just say that girls have ways to know if someone likes them or not

rauschpax: Yeah. Girls are so damn sneaky. Guys are obtuse. I know that I’m sending massive signals, and I can’t stop it.

Mellon Collie: what sygnals?

gearls are pretty sneaky. I mean…. god if guys knew how much of the stuff that happens around them is actually planned out and thought through and set up, they wouldn’t believe it!!!!

rauschpax: I’d believe it. I’m paranoid. I read into everything.

Mellon Collie: most guys aren’t like that.

they’re dumb as hell.

want to hear what me and my friend planned out for Alon?

rauschpax: Those signals that girls pick up. We send them by looking at you too much in a group conversation, by going out of our way to say hi, by offering to help you with things.

rauschpax: Sure – lay it on me.

Mellon Collie: ok. So he lives where my best friend does. And he’s really into music and stuff. So on friday I’m sleeping over at her house.

And I’ll be like (ok, well, I already did this) “Hey Alon! I want a Led Zeppelin cd! I’m sleeping at Naama’s house on friday so maybe you can give it to me”
and he said “so you’re coming over to my house?” (fell right for it!!!)

So I was like…. “hmmm…. depends if I’m getting the cd or not”. So it sounds like I’m doing him a favor

Then, on friday, Naama and I go to his house, but about half an hour later, her boyfriend calls her and says she just hasss to come over becuase he has something really important to tel her.

So she’ll act all uncomfortable and ask if it’s ok to go.

and he’ll say yes

and thats it

Holy cow! I had no idea! When did girls get to be masters of the universe and suddenly decide to run our lives behind our back?! I needed time to think about this, so I went to class (novel idea, I know). When I got back, Ayelet was still online. And someone else was, too.

rauschpax: She’s online, what do I do?

Mellon Collie: say hi

rauschpax: Thanks alot.

rauschpax: She’s away now.

Mellon Collie: sorry

did you talk to her?

rauschpax: No, I didn’t.

Mellon Collie: oh well, her loss

she’ll be back though



rauschpax: She’s offline.

Mellon Collie: oh oh no

don’t be sad

rauschpax: I’m not sad. I’m ignoring her, right? Or wait. I’m saying hi when she’s not away. Right? I’m confused.

Mellon Collie: you say hi when sh’es not away

but not immediatley when she gets on

wait for a few minutes

rauschpax: How many? 5? 10?

Mellon Collie: 7

rauschpax: Good medium.

rauschpax: Ok. 7 minutes – I say ‘hi.’ Then what?

Mellon Collie: yeah

why are you so nervous?

does she not like you at all?

Mellon Collie: whats up?

rauschpax: I don’t know. I know she like me as a friend.

Mellon Collie: thats good! and you talk to her not on line as well right?

rauschpax: Yeah.

So, there I was. My grand answer is – be online, and wait seven minutes, then say “Hi.” THAT’S supposed to score me this girl? It was about this time that it hit me – I’m taking relationship advice from a 16 year old girl in Israel.

Should I take her advice or not? Post your comments and let me know what to do.

Time Management

No school today. How great is that. I’ve never heard a better set of words slung together than “school” + “today” + “no.” Choose whatever order you want, it translates beautifully into any language.

So, you might (but probably won’t) ask, what did Miles do today? Let’s explore this experiment in Time Management.

[11:00 am] Wake up.

This proved to be more difficult than some may think – I didn’t go to bed until 5:30 am. So, it is only by God’s hand that I was able to wake at this hour. I lept from my bed to the stool, fell off, and landed face first into the dark green, stained, carpet. For some reason, the carpet smelled of tangerines.

[12:30 pm] Finish shower.

I love showers. I do. So much more than, say, torture. Or even lesser painful things like biology. Or even good things like pizza and soda – together. So, I try to draw out my bathing for as long as bloody possible. It gives me time to think, dream, sing, sleep alittle more, and to explore my body.

Eh…

Did I say that outloud?

[12:45 pm] Eat.

Food. I had Ramen Noodles: Shrimp. Exciting huh?

[1:30 pm] Homework.

I pulled out my math homework. He assigns us problems every day in class, and we have four days of class a week, but I’ve been … floating those on down the responsility barge toward the tree cutter of “Oh-Shoot-It-s-Test-Day” … I guess, and I decided to see what I had to do: x = 2.
Done.

[1:35 pm] Distractions.

My screensaver came on. It has a lot of flashing lights and colors. I can’t look away.

[2:30 pm] More distractions.

Mandy (some girl downstairs who thinks we know each other) wanted me to help her with Trillian. It turns out that her computer is actually an Etch-A-Sketch, and they don’t have Trillian for that operating system. While I was down there, this very distrubing witch movie came on HBO, with a boy who becomes a talking mouse and they wear masks and have all sorts of different and fun accents.

[4:30 pm] Back upstairs.

Well, I came back to what I was doing before – oh, right. The screen saver.

[5:10 pm] Food.

I ate again. This time – Trojan Center food. Well, okay. It wasn’t food, and I didn’t finish it.

[6:30 pm] The Way Down.

I’m in two plays. We practice at 7:30 pm. So, since I had to have 2/3 of the play memorized by now, I figured I should see how far along I could get. Lordy Lordy, let me tell you. Adam doesn’t do that well for a girl. No offense, Adam, but I’d rather someone from Second Floor did that part instead. He kept putting his hand on my knee. Then would nuzzle up to me like a cat. A little freaky.

[7:45 pm] The Way ?

I could not find Holly (my co-star) and Sue (my director) anywhere. Did they disappear? I spent all that time enduring Adam’s advances for nothing?! He’s not even that good of a kisser.

[8:00 pm] Website.

Have you ever been to the Zimmermann Hall website? Yeah, neither have I. If you’re like me, then you just learned that Zimmermann had a website at the Hall Council meeting where you were elected Webmaster of it. But not a whole lot of you are like me. So, I decided to work on the page and man do I hate FrontPage. It just … MAN DO I HATE FRONTPAGE. It’s ONE WORD! Like we don’t have enough “one-word-with-second-or-third-meta-words-capitalized”‘s! I mean, c’mon. It couldn’t be “Microsoft Webs”? Ok, maybe not, but I do hate that FrontPage is the only program I can use to do the Zimmermann Site.

[11:00 pm] Erin’s Visit.

Erin, Adam’s sister, came up to have Adam do her Visual Basic homework. While she was sitting here she says, “Man, I want this to be done! It’s not like I don’t have a paper to right. Of course, I’ve had about 3 weeks to do it.” My curiousity piqued at the obvious misuse of “right” for “write”, and I asked her, “What’s the paper about?”

“It’s about Time Management”

I think Erin just proved a very good point. Homework sucks.

[12:20 am] Post.

I decided to post this long, probably unfunny, …. thing onto my website. It maybe the one thing I do all day.
Oh, wait – that’s right. I also figured something else out.

x = 2

Pizza What ?

Today, Adam’s parents came up for no apparent reason other than to install a shelf unit (more difficult than we thought) and to give him a good ribbing. In celebration of their departure, we visited the local Pizza Hut.

I must say, was I disappointed. So much so that I plan on sending them this letter, at a time more to my convenience, that discusses many of the problems we had with the popular pizza serving chain.

Here goes.

Dear Pizza Hut:

××××I am writing to explain certain grievances as have occurred in my short (well, long) stay within your brown and orange brick walls.

××××First off, where is the hut? This building doesn’t much look like a hut to me. Where’s all the grass? Where’s the sod? Where’s the bare-breasted matriarch? I was not impressed right off the bat. I thought you had one of those bead drapes, but it turns out that it was a troupe of trick flies pulling a joke. It turns out that the flies out number the patrons by about 95 times. I wonder what attracts so many of them? Maybe it’s the underlying urine smell.

××××The waitress, after a good, healthy pause, came over to our table. I guess she wanted us to think about what we wanted before she bothered us with menus. “Are you ready to order?” Uh, you just gave us the menus. “I’ll come back later then.” It turns out that what she meant was, “I’ll leave now make you find me later. Just don’t peek out back!”

××××Well, we found her – mark it up to good ol’ South Dakota schoolin’, but she was no match for us. We ordered our food, and again we sat waiting. Why doesn’t our fan spin? Why is the TV off even though it’s facing us? Why does the radio keep going out? And honestly, since when is Canadian bacon not a pork product? Did this just happen? When did Pizza Hut decide they could re categorize meats? “What’s in ‘pork ingredients’?” “That would be pork sausage and Italian sausage with a little spicing.” “So, that’s Canadian Bacon then?” No, Adam, it’s not.

××××Well, we found the waitress again. “We ordered bread sticks, didn’t we?” Oh, yes you did. I don’t think they’re ready, but I can check on them. Thanks, that’s what I meant. I didn’t actually want them. I wanted their status. While you’re checking the status, maybe you turn that radio knob one tic one way or the other instead of getting 65% of “How You Remind Me” by Nickelback, which is 10 years old anyway. And check on those plants – I think they’re either dead or fake or both.

××××She brings us our bread sticks. Actually, for seven people, she brings six plates and five bread sticks. And all within a shade of a century. Gee, thanks. I was a virgin before I came here, but it seems I couldn’t wait anymore. Say hello to Miles Junior. He has his mother’s eyes, and half her bread stick.

××××About now, I can’t take my eyes off the shroom picture you have on the wall. It speaks to me. Maybe it’s the hunger, but I could eat that painting. Maybe I’d get the power it harbors. Ok – I’m losing it. Oh, good the pizza’s done. In fact, it almost beat the bread sticks here.

××××It’s at this point that I think, who’s running this joint? There is only one girl for 200 tables, and, let’s not kid ourselves. She’s not exactly the best and brightest that this franchise has to offer. She would blame most of the problems on the “computer” they have in the “back room.” Apparently they put orders into this “computer” and it seems to have “crashed” so she had to use her “notebook” instead. That’s a lot of quotes – I don’t believe her.

××××The food was mostly good. The soda was excellent. And there weren’t a lot of people there, so we had excellent privacy. I’m sorry if this letter is too long for your attention spans or if it contains words too big for your vocabulary, but I felt like I had to say what had to say.

Have a great day.

Love always,

Miles

The conversation at dinner mostly took this form: (Grumble about restaurant) (Mention embarrassing thing about Adam) (Ask Adam if he remembers) (Laugh at Adam) (Grumble more). It was both pleasing and interesting. A sharp contrast to the devastation we felt at the service. We left the place with an odd, conflicted feeling. Soon, Adam and I were back at the dorms.

�Hey, Adam. Remember that time when we embarrassed you at Pizza Hut?� Look at his face. Ha ha ha. smiley-face. :)

Hooooo Kids

More Changes at Awayken Dot Com!

What do you think? I have a new blogging client which allows my users to post their comments on what I write. And I have complete control. It’s taken a while to get it to look according to my standards, but I finally whittled and tweaked it into this format. It took a lot of tweaking and whittling, though.

This will be, in essense, more powerful and more flexible. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with my Pitas account at this time. I’ll see what I have as far as options.

So, this post is, thus far, not funny or insightful. This is merely informational. But the next post will try to be either funny or insightful.

I post almost every day. Try to come back, allright?

Two Posts in One Day

I know what you’re thinking – two posts in one day!? Right, well, here goes.

I talked to General Beadle today. It started this morning. I checked Jeff’s site and found that his girlfriend had posted. She burned me, folks. I think that she thinks that I’m a jerk, and she probably hates me. I’m sorry for that. I think she misunderstood what I wrote. I wasn’t dissing Jeff’s post. I think it’s great. My prior comment was simply on the fact that he hadn’t posted in a while and I was happy that he had.

My second comment might have been taken as sarcastic, but it wasn’t. If you look at Jeff’s earlier posts, they all tell stories. Here’s what I did today. This latest post was a introspection. With introspection, a reader is immediately tapped into the writer. It’s like a direct link. The readers empathize, they commiserate, with you. This gives you power over them. I thought it was great. Jeff and I talked about making up our lives and posting things on our websites to that effect, but this was a good first step.

I|m not that bad a guy, really.

So, I was depressed this morning. So, to clear my head I took an hour long walk. I just walked and thought and then I came to a park. So, I lay down thought some more, and made up my mind some, and then I walked back with my head up. That’s the biggest difference. Depression pushes your head down. Optimism pulls it up.

When I got back to campus, I was on the same side as ‘ol General Beadle. I decided to talk to him. A little back history. General Wm. H. H. Beadle gave a large portion of his land to the state for schools. He helped to make DSU what it is today. He served as a professor of history and was even president of the teacher’s college. Four years before he died, a bronze statue of him was fashioned, and eventually it was placed on the South West side of campus.

There he stands, watching out over Madison. But no one sees him. I told him this. I told him how did these great things, and less than a hundred years later, you are only decoration. No one cares about you anymore, Bill. You’re not worth anything. How do you feel about that? I see you. I know you’re there, but others just drive by. They ignore you. How’s that for greatness…

I left him, but not without this thought, “Even if no one knows you exist, if you know you exist, and you care about that, then that’s all that matters.”

Model Idiot

I sit here and I bleed. It’s a long story, let me explain.

Anyway, what happened in band you ask? Well, I was walking out my door
to go to band when Adam yells, “Hey, where you going dude?” I’m going to
band, Adam. He get belligerent.
“Fine! Go to band!” I start walking down the hall, but he continues to
antagonize me. I turn back to him, and still I walk on down the hall, but
backwards, to yell something angry and hurtful. Instead….

…Carl rushes me from Jeff’s room off to my left. It jolts me but
I recover and knock him out. Well, Jeff, as backup for Carl, I suppose,
tosses his hackeysack at me. Of course he misses but I manage to secure
the item and I take off down the hall….

…to Carl’s room. I run in, “What can I take?” There is nothing
to fit inside my pockets for the walk to and from band. What do I take?
Then I spied it – a can of chili! I grab it in a pilfering lust and take
to the streets below. I soon begin to slow, though, because….

…band is 35 blocks from campus. As I get to the hospital, I get
bored, and I pull out Jeff’s hackeysack. I toss it from hand to hand with
the ease of baseball great, but I decide to get more athletic. I toss it
up high into the air. I watch it soar, and remember that I got a 1 out of
3 for catching when I was in Kindergarten. The hackeysack sails itself
right into….

…the medical waste dumpster. Shouldn’t those things be locked,
and not wide open like that? I might complain to someone. I pull the hackeysack
out, remove the needle, and decide it might be safer to put it away. It’s
Jeff’s, you know, and I don’t want to give him any diseases by virtue of
my inability to catch. So, I pull out the chili can as….

…I walk into the parking lot. For some reason it didn’t occur
to me that tossing a chili can from hand to hand was a bad idea in a parking
lot. I toss it from hand to hand with the glee only kittens enjoy. And
then, on one fateful toss, the can travels from my right hand right into….

…the President of DSU. Tunheim, himself, get it right in the face.
There was blood everywhere, especially on him and the chili can, and I felt
immediately panicked. I bent over to help him up. I said, “President Tunheim,
are you okay? That can of chili came out of nowhere.”….

…I don’t know if he replied to me or not. I do know that he hit
he a lot harder than that stupid can hit him. I got to band, but couldn’t
play because my teeth kept coming out and I dripping blood like baby seal.
I guess this all just goes to show: don’t steal stuff!

600 Gallons

I|ve learned some tough lessons since the last posting.
Here they are in no order other than that them there were picked randomly
by my brain. NOTE: This is so traumatic that I didn’t have time to pick
keywords and bold them or link them, so nothing to click today.

1| A 13 hour LAN party is only as good as the pirated software you have
access to. How did I end my stint there? I was getting a highscore in “SuperCollapse.”
I had fun though. The wierd sort of fun people have at Cross Country Meets.

2| Picking out something to eat at 530 am is like deciding which
finger you love most: nearly impossible. Bryce sat out in the car for the
better part of 15 minutes while I finally settled for two $.50 bags of peanuts
and some teriyaki jerkey.

3| Some girls hit hard. And some of them are sadistic enough to
challenge you to a “Hit Me” contest. Sorry, I don|t beat up 15 yearold girls
who go by “Lovi.” That|s “Love-E.” Her full name is Lovisa Joy Lamm. Yeah,
I|m not joking.

4| I learned that some people live farther away than they should.
These people you only see once in a long time. Eventually, though, they
call you and it shocks the hell out of you.

5| I learned that Ben Brown is quite popular with the guys, but
he sure isn|t no chick magnet. Two out of two girls agree that his chops
(and manfat) are a turn off, and, by association, everyone who worships him
is a loser. Oooo, strike out.

6| I learned that a Cavalier can make it to Brookings, (hell, to
my house), on 3 cyllinders, but it should go no further than from WalMart
to the service shop on only 2.

7| I learned that a DVD box may have english all over the stupid
box, but it takes a trained eye to spy the little box that says “In French
With English Subtitles.” But I learned that reading a movie and glancing
up quickly is almost as satisfying as knowing the language.

8| I learned that sometimes, in this dorm, you simply become involved
in a dispute, despite your desire or disdain. I|m not quite involved, yet,
but I may be. Hey – I was just watching a movie… in French.

9| I learned that finding 10 things to come up with (that mirror
the somewhat bad weekend I had) is a little on the difficult side. On the
other hand, I have one left.

10| I learned how much a phone call means to an older generation.
I learned that grandparents think about us a lot more than we think that
they do or should. I|ll try to use this knowledge.

So, there you go – I mentioned the LAN party, the food dilemma, Lovi,
Alicia|s call, ben brown, the car problem, Amelie, the |situation|, this
blog, and my Grandpa|s angioplasty.

Next time – what happened on the way to band!

Stealing My Shadow

Who really wants an excerpt when it’s benbrown!!
This is the whole conversation I had with the legend after I got his AIM
name from his mass mailing. I’m sure he regrets it. Read it at your own
leasure.

I am going to do in a new direction with the site. I|m planning
on adding humour and prose to my site. So, many of the |stories| I|ll share
in the coming entries will be untrue and most likely be my very pained attempt at comedic writing.

But, since no one comes here anyway, what difference does it make
to you people?? I could post straight profanity – or nothing at all – or
the answer to life itself, and who would see but Jeff or maybe Collin?

Maybe I didn’t make that clear …

aim brandbenbrown

Session Start (AIM – rauschpax:brandbenbrown): Tue Oct 01 14:14:35 2002
rauschpax: Do you know who Ellen Feiss is?
brandbenbrown: yes.
brandbenbrown: I’m linked from the ellen feiss fan site.
rauschpax: You can blame her for “lazydesert7” and “rauschpax.”
rauschpax: It’s that site that led us to you.
brandbenbrown: haha.
brandbenbrown: Lovely.
rauschpax: I really enjoyed your show, by the way. My roommate (I’m in college) thought that I was looking at ManPorn, during your “fat jiggling” sequence.
rauschpax: And he told his mom over the phone.
brandbenbrown: hahah
rauschpax: So – I’ve had some explaining to do.
brandbenbrown: lovely.
brandbenbrown: :)
rauschpax: Yeah, I thought so.
rauschpax: I would like to say, for the record, that Jeff (lazydesert7) and I (Miles) are not usually stalkerish like this.
brandbenbrown: heh
brandbenbrown: Ok.
brandbenbrown: Noted.
rauschpax: There’s not a whole lot to do in South Dakota, so we are kinda obsessed with benbrown.com and animoller.com
brandbenbrown: Wild.
brandbenbrown: Soon
brandbenbrown: you can be obsessed separetly
brandbenbrown: with benbrown.com
brandbenbrown: and animoller.com
brandbenbrown: as
brandbenbrown: our merger has been denied.
brandbenbrown: (Link:http://benandani.com)http://benandani.com
rauschpax: I read that. Damn SEC.
brandbenbrown: fucking bastards.
rauschpax: I bet with your web presence, you could shut them down.
rauschpax: A Jihad to your loyal followers.
brandbenbrown: No. that’s alright.
rauschpax: It could be big. How many followers do you have – that you’ve never met in person?
brandbenbrown: Plenty.
brandbenbrown: But no amount of followers is going to save my marriage
rauschpax: Do you want to talk about it, Ben?
brandbenbrown: No, not really
rauschpax: I didn’t think so. But being the caring, sensitive guy I am, I had to offer.
brandbenbrown: I appreciate it
brandbenbrown: I’m actually dealing with it my loading up suicidegirls on my new wap phone thinger
brandbenbrown: heh
rauschpax: As long as your dealing with it.
brandbenbrown: yup
brandbenbrown: heh
rauschpax: Are you at work right now or at home?
brandbenbrown: work
rauschpax: So you LIED on your Ben Brown Show website??? I can’t believe it! I trusted you.
brandbenbrown: Uh
brandbenbrown: That part of my site hasn’t been updated since February
rauschpax: That’s the problem with the internet. I’m always behind. February, huh? Well, … congrats on the job, then.
brandbenbrown: it’s the worst job ever
rauschpax: What do you do?
rauschpax: It can’t be too bad if they let you chat the whole time.
brandbenbrown: haha
brandbenbrown: not the whole time
rauschpax: Is this the editting job?
brandbenbrown: ha. no.
rauschpax: For Uber?
brandbenbrown: I wish.
rauschpax: Is it the “Words Words Words” job?
brandbenbrown: No. Just a job.
brandbenbrown: All that stuff I do in my spare time for no money. ;)
rauschpax: What a guy. You’re my hero.
rauschpax: I bet your job isn’t like my job.
brandbenbrown: I’ll bet it’s worse
rauschpax: For the summer, I worked for my dad. My dad does Cemetery Lettering. That means that when I went out with him, we’d travel for hours to some remote cemetery. We’d set up, and crouch over some guy’s grave, letting little bits of granite pelt us at 100 psi.
rauschpax: For 25 jobs a day.
brandbenbrown: oh god
brandbenbrown: Ok
brandbenbrown: that’s worse
brandbenbrown: but at least weird
brandbenbrown: so you can tell people at parties
brandbenbrown: and they go
brandbenbrown: Whoa.
brandbenbrown: brb
rauschpax: You get gloves and a mask to you don’t eat your eye lenses out, but if you forget long sleeves and pants, and wear a wife-beater and shorts…
brandbenbrown: jeez
rauschpax: So what do you do?
brandbenbrown: I do web stuff for a realestate company
rauschpax: That sounds *yawn* really interesting.
brandbenbrown: yeah
brandbenbrown: worst
brandbenbrown: job
brandbenbrown: ever
rauschpax: I’d like to do “webstuff” one day. What major did you have in college?
brandbenbrown: crative wreating
brandbenbrown: ewl;kjdlkfjs
brandbenbrown: EWHOS
brandbenbrown: salksjdf
brandbenbrown: creative writing
brandbenbrown: jesus
brandbenbrown: misplaced my hands on that one
rauschpax: We don’t have a creative writing major here. We hardly have a class for it.
brandbenbrown: that sucks
brandbenbrown: where are you?
rauschpax: How specific do you want that?
brandbenbrown: what school?
rauschpax: Dakota State University, in Madison, SD.
rauschpax: You know where that is?
brandbenbrown: nope
brandbenbrown: south dakota
brandbenbrown: somewhere up
brandbenbrown: there
brandbenbrown: somwhere
brandbenbrown: heh
rauschpax: Same time zone, 24 hours away.
brandbenbrown: as where?
rauschpax: Austin.
rauschpax: Right? And you’re in Austin, right.
brandbenbrown: oh
rauschpax: ?
brandbenbrown: 24 hours driving?
brandbenbrown: yeah
brandbenbrown: Austin
rauschpax: It was an exaggerationing.
rauschpax: But something like that.
brandbenbrown: yeah
brandbenbrown: its 10 hours to chicago from here
rauschpax: So, I guess 24 was a little off. I’m sorry.
brandbenbrown: YOU BASTARD
rauschpax: Who’s the goose? I’m the goose.
rauschpax: DSU is the “computer” school of South Dakota.
rauschpax: So my major is “Computer Science”
brandbenbrown: that sucks
brandbenbrown: i was a cs major for a hwile
brandbenbrown: ;)
rauschpax: Do you know C++, then?
brandbenbrown: yes
brandbenbrown: and perl
brandbenbrown: and c
brandbenbrown: and php
brandbenbrown: and a vb
brandbenbrown: and js
brandbenbrown: and a bunch of other stupid boring languages
rauschpax: Wow. That’s a lot of languages. Why did you change majors?
brandbenbrown: i hated cs
rauschpax: Why? Not a programmer guy?
rauschpax: See, I love languages. So, I love programming, writing, music, love – all those languages
. brandbenbrown: I’m a programmer
brandbenbrown: I hated being told to do things in a certain way
brandbenbrown: that I thought was wrong
rauschpax: What do you mean?
rauschpax: Am I about to be disillusioned?
brandbenbrown: wha?
rauschpax: What do you mean about the ways being wrong?
brandbenbrown: oh
brandbenbrown: right
brandbenbrown: well
brandbenbrown: I dunno
brandbenbrown: I was making liek $65k a year writing application
brandbenbrown: s
brandbenbrown: and they were telling me that I was programming in the wrong way
brandbenbrown: and I just thought that was bullshit
rauschpax: Did the programs work?
brandbenbrown: Sure.
brandbenbrown: nono
brandbenbrown: I’m just saying
brandbenbrown: their methods
brandbenbrown: were stupid to me
brandbenbrown: because they were going to lead me into jobs where I’d be doing nothing but like
brandbenbrown: patching OS code
brandbenbrown: instead of doing cool shit
brandbenbrown: so
brandbenbrown: I quit
rauschpax: Atta boy. I don’t think I could do that for a living, either.
rauschpax: Applications? Write your own application.
brandbenbrown: I do
brandbenbrown: ok
brandbenbrown: nevermind
rauschpax: See, and you don’t give yourself grief about how you write it, do you? Of course not.
rauschpax: That’d be wierd.
brandbenbrown: I don’t think you understand
brandbenbrown: anyways
brandbenbrown: i gotta work
brandbenbrown: so
brandbenbrown: later!
rauschpax: Bye:ee
Session Close (brandbenbrown): Tue Oct 01 16:42:09 2002