Celebrity Christmas Lists.

Greetings fair citizens of New Prussia. The time is 9:20 and I am listening to some dude with an acoustic guitar at a coffee shop. Normally I dislike the usual dude with a guitar at coffee shops because they generally suck and are loud to boot. These guys aren’t too bad though and seem to have quite a following. Apparently they are from out of town and came here just for this show.

I must admit I am having trouble thinking of You Might Be A Bastard jokes. I should probably be one for a time to better find out what all bastards actually do. However I can delight your senses with this bit of Christmas joy. Ever wonder what famous people want for Christmas? Well it here it is. The official...

...2006 Celebrity Christmas List.

1 George W. Bush- Approval ratings, any at all.

2. Nicole Ricci – A piece of rice.

3. Rosie O’Donnell – For her Barbara Walters fantasy to come to true,

4. Donald Trump – To develop his huge head into prime real estate.

5. K-fed – For even his own mother to buy his album.

6.Michael Moore – A box of Krispy Kream doughnuts.

7.Sashe Baron Cohen - For anyone to remember him in six months.

8.Saddam Hussein – To save his own neck.

9. Katie Holmes – For Tom to convert to Mormonism or anything less weird then scientology.

10. Brad and Angelina – Another poor third world child to adopt now that they have adopted ALL of them.

I have recently learned more people have been reading this thing then I had thought and I greatly appreciate it. It is encouraging in my writing to know people are interested in it. Okay gang, I’ll catch you later.

Yule Time Conquest

It is 4:32 and I am listening to Christmas Carols. So it’s the holidays and I wish you all a very merry Christmas and hope the New Year is the best year yet. As the new, infant year kills the aged and feeble last year off many of you have wondered what Christmas in New Prussia is like. Now I covered this in a prior blog about this time last year but I will rehash the basics of it. For complete coverage see my entry on 12-25-2005. With this in mind, break out the Belgium Ale and gather along the French border for the Yule Time Conquest.

Papa Czar gives toy weapons to all good Prussian children. He rides a warhorse on most occasions but for Christmas he has a special vehicle he rides around in, an armored sled (made by BMW) pulled by 9 warhorses. Legend has it their names are Panzer, Blitzkrieg, Fritz, Otto, Fredrick, Rommel, Kaiser, Jagermiester and Luther. As you can see, the legends grow.

My Christmas list has not changed much. I still want a province in central Europe, the destruction of the U.N, a magical sword etc. This year I’m adding that I want a date, one single date with a cute girl. No, I would settle for one conversation with a cute girl this year.

For my next section I must preface this by saying that within the realm of cussing, swearing, and four letter words, I do not consider this to be a cuss word. Not a great word but not a cuss word by any means. So give your warm round of applause to my new segment:

You Might Be A Bastard….
These are similar to you might be a redneck jokes, only with bastards. I must admit I’ve never really been a bastard so this might take some time for me to think of some situations but they will go like this:

If you honk your horn to pick up your date, you might be a bastard.

If your name is Kim Jong Ill, you might be a bastard.

If you fill a water balloon with urine, you’re most likely a bastard.

If you after years of being exiled you return to your family just in time to steal their inheritance then you might be a bastard.

So you get the idea.

And now it’s time for, Great Moments in OCD History:

I was at work the other day when I got the call to put more toilet paper in the women’s restroom. Now I’m able to do this, it bothers me a little bid but not to bad. So we have these to plastic tubs that go through the toilet paper in the TP dispenser to make it easy to pull out. So I pull both of these plastic tubes out to place the paper roll onto them. Much to my dismay, my fumbling fingers drop one. Everything went into slow motion. I reach for it, “Noooooooooo!” I yell in angst as I watch it tumble and plummet into the toilet next to me splashing into the disease filled murk of the porcelain abyss. It floated on the surface, mocking me as anxiety set in. Fortunately there was nothing in the toilet. What could I do? I briefly considered just flushing it down but realized that would not work and would also be difficult to explain to my manager. I decided I only had option. I had to fish it out. So I went and put on the gloves and trembling and quivering I reached into the toilet and pulled the dumb thing out, washed it off, put paper on it and set it back in the metal dispenser. I then washed my hands like a surgeon. To her credit, one co-worker, Jessica, volunteered to fish it out for me but I knew it was something I had to make myself do. Please send flowers to my funeral.

Well that’s about it for now folks. I hope your Holidays are happy and germ free and that Papa Czar brings you all the weapons you want!

Welcome to New Blogistan

It 7:32, no music, just apple cider. I must admit I don’t normally drink cider but since I have been trying to cut back on caffeine I have taken to it more. I have a special name for it, I like to call it Mormon whiskey, and it seems appropriate. This entry will consist of a bunch of quick hits.

I think 2006 should be considered for all intents and purposes, the year I died, or at least nearly went insane. I haven’t gone much of anywhere or done anything, I haven’t been in church or hung out with friends or kept up with people like I should. I have pretty much stayed at home and laid low while my mind got worse and worse. Anyways, not much good seems to have come out of it, it seems like this year could have not existed and I would have been fine.

I did move back home to try and get my mind back in order. So I have gotten on new meds and back into counseling. I haven’t been entirely satisfied with the results so I am now trying this Chiropractic/Holistic medicine specialist. So far it seems pretty to help.

My last blog inspired me to start my own phone ring tone service for people into rap and hip-hop. You would send in rap, hip hop, R&B etc to play on your phone. It would be called Bling Tones. I’m sure it has already been done.

The other day I was thinking about how ironic it is that Lou Gehrig, the famous baseball player, died from a disease with the same name as himself, namely Lou Gehrig’s disease. I mean, what are the odds? I could see the probability of somebody named Malaria dying from Malaria, but something as specific as Lou Gehrig? Talk about irony.

On the religious front, it has come to my attention (via a work friend) that the Catholic church is now allowing people to pay 150$ a year to have a nun pray for their salvation. Of course the plan was originally done to allow priests to pay nuns to pray for their salvation. Call it over-indulgences.

Anyways, that’s about it for now. I’ll catch you later.

Christian Culture Strikes Again.

It is 7:30 P.M. and I am listening to a group of high school kids pretend to study in a group. No parent should let their high school kid go study with a group of friends because studying is not at all what happens. Anyways, faintly in the background Radio Head is playing so it is all good. Now let’s jump right into some fun:

Ringing in the Sheaves:

Christian ring tones, that is the subject of today’s topic. My friend Matt, sent me this link, www.ringspirations.com it is for a company that is collecting Christian rings tones for people to pay and download. The catch is they have this big mission statement and purpose and what-knot. Here is their motto: “Every time your cell phone rings, let it magnify the king,” I think it should be “Every time your cell phone rings, it makes it harder for Jeff to admit he is a Christian.” Or “every time your cell phone rings, an angel gets its wings.”

This is, of course, a revolutionary new method of evangelism that allows you to do so without having to actually love anybody. In fact, God himself has made a deal with Ringspirations to have the seven trumpets sound through your ring tones when the rapture happens.

I mean what can reach out to somebody more then 8-bit digital recordings of “Where there is faith” by 4 Him or “Friends” by Michael W. Smith? These phones also offer language filters to keep your conversations clean.

Their jingle could go something like “Hear the phones ringing their singing that you can be born again…” Or however that song goes.

Not only that, but I think there is a lot more potential for money, I mean ministry here. How about a Christian phone service as well? The service, tentatively called Nexthell offers unlimited God minutes and free calls to any Christians on the same plan. Remember, they have the largest prayer chain in the world to back it. (It’s the network} Now you can imagine and talk to an entire nation waving their hands and phones in heaven together.

Instead of Katherine Zeta Jones, they have signed Rebecca St. James to be their spokesperson. I really think I’m on to something here.

An Update from My Last Entry.

So my good friend Nicole mentioned in my last blog entry that I wrote “I poured soup into my open wound.” She thought perhaps soap would have been better. This is not the case. It was the all new “Chicken Noodle Soup for the Open Wound.” It immediately brought a soothing yet shallow and temporary relief to my aches and pains. It turns out this serious is more vast then I had known. Here are some other titles.

- Chicken Noodle Soup for the Confederates Soldiers Soul

- Chicken Noodle Soup for the Coward’s Soul

- Just Noodle Soup for the Anorexics Soul.

- Chicken Noodle Soup for the Pokemon’s Soul

- Chicken Noodle Soup for the Carpet Stain

- Chicken Noodle Soup for Hillary Clinton’s Soul–wait, never mind, she doesn’t have a soul.

Well that’s about it for now. I’ll catch you next time.

I Am Trying to Break You Heart

I went to see Wilco last Thursday night. It was, to put it simply, the best show I’ve ever seen. There are two types of bands, those that merely entertain you, and there are those who are artists, creating an auditory Van Gogh or Rembrandt (or in this case maybe Picasso?) while you watch. Wilco is the latter. They are simply brilliant in concert, and anyone who is a music fan should make it a point to see them. They are the kind of musicians who make a crusty white boy like me want to dance and sing along with everyone else.

Now it’s time to bring back a lost segment of our show. That’s right, it’s time for more…

Great Moments in OCD history:

So the other day I was helping my dad move some stuff from storage and in the process received a little sliver on my finger. Not a serious one, but the kind that’s an annoying little bugger, like a paper cut, that hurts whenever you touch something with it. This really wasn’t problematic until work the next day. Mind you I receive money from people’s purses and wallets etc and let’s face it, money can be a dirty thing. No problem I was wearing band-aids. Now through the course of mandatory hand washing at work the band-aid naturally fell off. So I am careful with it, no biggie. However, I drink a lot of coffee at work (of course) which then makes me pee like a racehorse. (Or as one employee claims…a walnut bladder) So on break I run to the men’s room. Being in a hurry I open the door, step in and reach up to grab the inside handle to pull the door close. At that point I felt a dull pain in my finger as the cut pressed against the door handle. I looked at my hand and to my horror realized there was no band-aid on my hand. Time froze, my stomach churned, panic set it. I had pressed my open wound against the nasty doorknob of the men’s restroom! (Everyone knows how dirty these doorknobs can be when people don’t wash their hands) I, for all intents and purposes, had pretty much pulled my wound open and poured a vial of virus’s into my bloodstream, mashing them in further to insure they were injected! I could feel them circulating through me already. I was surely now going to die of Ebola or something equally horrible. Fortunately, due to a past similar experience, I had a contingence plan. I ran over to the sink, poured soup into the wound and made like a surgeon, scrubbing for the very first time. Then I went to the dish sink and ran sanitizer over my hand for a minute, and finally to be sure I had ended all threat of malaria or worse, I went to grab a little alcohol scrub cleaning pack, the kind they use to clean skin before injections, and delicately cleansed my poor finger. After that I figured there was nothing else I could do. I now wait patiently to see if I die of scurvy, AIDS, the Black Death or consumption. If I die please send flowers.

From the News Desk:

In international news President Mamoud Ahmadinejad of Iran appeared before the U.N last week in support of Iran’s nuclear program stating, “Right now, who can call the United States into account? Who has the power to hold them responsible for their actions?” He then went on to add, “Unfortunately, it is to late to hold them accountable for the release of Paris Hilton’s new album.”

Well guys and gals, it’s been fun. I’ll catch you later.

Climbing Jacob's Ladder

I reluctantly walk into the building before me. I hate the place. It smells of over-sterilization and fading urine. Bodies twitch uncontrollably and mouths make incidental groans. Withered faces and hollow stares greet me. Seeing but not recognizing, watching but not comprehending. Artifacts in storage waiting to die. I am loath to go there, which I know means all the more reason I should go, to the nursing home.

She's dying. Has been for sometime, but now she really is. She has entered that last downward spiral and she knows it. We all do. I can't do much for her. Coffee and ice cream are perennial favorites, so I bring those with me. It's the least I can do. She looks like a wraith, rickety and gaunt. The image of God reduced to a fragile nothing. Flesh and blood scraped bare. I feel so helpless.

We were never very close. How could we be? But when I see her sitting there, lost in the fantasies of her mind, hands quivering from illness, pain plaguing her body, I am filled with emotion. She can't hear anymore and she can hardly talk at all. I am still reluctant to go. All I can really do is sit with her, but when I walk in and she sees me, her face lights up in a rare and genuine smile and a bit of life returns to those eyes, if only for a second, and in that moment I know I did the right thing. She is, after all, my grandmother.

More to come.

More Fun To Be Had

It is 9:05 and I am listening to Jon Mayer’s new album, and I must admit, it rocks. Now for those of you who know me, you may know that traditionally I have hated John Mayer. While in the past he has had some cute, catchy songs, for the most part I have disliked him. I disliked the fact every time he sang he sounded like he was trying to seduce a girl and I have always hated his teenybopper, sorority crowd. In fact he was on the enemy of New Prussia list. That has all changed. I guess now that he has had success he has gotten away from his normal scene. His newest album is very soulful, bluesy and mellow. It has some incredibly deep and wry lyrics and I think it is funny because this album will be completely lost on his normal fans. Anyways, I recommend it.

So I wrote a serious blog and received a lot of criticism. The truth is, maybe this worship is wrong in some regards and right in others. Just because somebody is sincere still doesn’t make something right. You can still be sincerely wrong. Just because God uses something for some good doesn’t mean it is still good. The people buying doves in the temple were there to worship the Lord, yet Jesus still kicked out the moneychangers. Christian arts need to be open to criticism. The problem is, once again, you can’t really criticize anything in Christianity. In Lisa’s response on the last entry, she claims many people’s heart are in the right place so how could this be wrong? I would ask how could we just accept anything and everything and not allow it to open to criticism? Who am I to say something is wrong but who is anyone else to say its right? Anyways to conclude this debate, it still doesn’t sit well with me or many other people and I think that means there is something behind this issue we should be aware of. I do think we need to redefine worship however.

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In other news:

Scientist Discover Wild Horses Really Could Drag Mick Jagger Away.

It has long been believed that the Rolling Stones song Wild Horses was true. The famous song states “wild horses couldn’t drag me away” and has been considered by many to be scientifically true. That belief came crashing down last Thursday in a series of scientific experiments in which an aging Mick Jagger was hitched to several teams of wild horses and told to hold to a mannequin while they attempted to pull him away. The first team of four horses quickly pulled Mr. Jagger through the mud and dirt with no problem as did the second team. Then teams of two horses also had success. Finally only one wild horse was hitched to Mick Jagger and it too was able to drag him away, disproving the song all together. Not only that but to add even more humiliation an old gray mare was then tested and it pulled him away as well. In a final disgrace of the scientific method, a Shetland pony was tied to Mick Jagger and it to quickly overpowered him.

“Well, not so much now that I am 62,” said Mr. Jagger in response, “but when I was younger there was no way in hell they could drag me away.”

The claim is, unfortunately, unverifiable. In further testing on Mr. Jagger it was proven that the song “A Golden Retriever Couldn’t Drag Me Away" would be much more accurate.

Well folks that’s about it. Later.

On Worship.

Valentino, that was the name on the slip of paper that was found in the back pocket of my jeans. Not the side with the wallet but the other side, that has nothing in it, except for the slip of paper I found. Valentino, it was printed in big thick bold letters on a perfectly cut rectangle piece of thick cardboard like paper. I ran the name through my mind and quickly realized I knew of none that matched it. Who or what was this name? Equally so, how did end up in my back pocket? The jeans weren’t new, it was no vendor tag that I knew of, nor had I taken the jeans off around anybody. I begin to think. Maybe one time, while in a crowded shopping mall, a CIA operative being chased by Chinese Assassins bumped into me and slipped the paper into my pocket. Maybe it was a code for some secret operation or maybe it held a tiny Microchip in it with the key to an international crisis on it. Maybe it was the name of a tall, slender, olive skinned, drop dead gorgeous Italian Femme Fatale that I would meet the next day. I did not know, but I knew there was a story here and the possibilities were endless. Yes, this really did happen to me the other day.

Who knows what may develop from it. Now let’s get down to business.

I regret to inform you few who may have come to this site in search of a jovial, uplifting blog entry, that indeed that is not the case this time. This is a serious entry that I have been meaning to write for some time but kept putting it off, that is until a friend of mine, one Scott Higgins, encouraged me to do so. It involves worship and all these cool worship bands running around that have taken Christianity by storm. I am going to make a statement you probably won’t hear much, but one that as I talk to people, I have discovered many others who feel this way as well. Namely, I have a problem with these bands. What it is I am trying to figure out. Writers write not so much to create or to relay ideas but out of a deeply felt need to understand things, both in themselves and in the world as well. So I hope that by writing this it brings to light some revelations about this issue.

I will start with what worship is to me. I am not going to get all exegetical on you and bring in Greek definitions and Biblical syntax about the Bible’s view on worship. That is useless in this exercise; rather, I define it by what it means to me, which is probably where the problem lies.

Worship to me, in short, is telling the Lord how much I love Him in one way or another, or maybe in essence, glorifying Him. In addition to that, worship to me is an incredibly private, deeply personal, and quite often emotional experience that is shared between the Lord and I and no one else. Most of my worship is not done in song, but usually in meditation, prayer, reflection and sometimes writing. It is a profoundly deep thing that escapes words and has little room for others.

Now there is also corporate worship with the body of Christ that we usually do with our fellow believers in church, camps or other such things. I have to admit, I have always had trouble “getting into” this. I appreciate the lyrics (usually) and I enjoy the fellowship with the body of Christ collectively glorifying Him But I have trouble really seeing it as true worship on my part, because it lacks the depth of my own private worship. Why is this? Am I afraid of being openly vulnerable? Probably. Does this process seem formulaic as well? Yes, we start church, gear ourselves up for three or four songs, and it is part of the show, to butter you up to be moved by the sermon. Do I have trouble focusing on songs while surrounded by people? Absolutely. Mentally I have incredible trouble focusing on singing in church. I get distracted by people (usually chicks) around me, and to be honest, for some reason my OCD tends to distract me a lot during worship like this as well. So to make it quick, I see the need for public worship in church, like the idea, but personally struggle with it. It lacks the authenticity (I had to work that catch phrase in) of the worship of my private life. I think this is part of the problem.

These concerts to me are very fake or forced expressions of worship, lacking the depth, originality and genuineness of true worship. It is in a sense, a forced experience. Perhaps, rather then going to a show and being led, in an entertainment style concert, the same people should try and do this themselves in the privacy of their room.

Another problem is worship is free. It is also very spontaneous at times. (I think this is a huge part of the problem right here) Worship is something so meaningful, so intense, that we are commanded, encouraged and should want to do, that to charge money to do so is to me, an abomination. I could simply state it as, I WILL NOT PAY MONEY TO WORSHIP MY LORD AND SAVIOR. That is the heart of the matter to me. I am sorry, paying 60 bucks to go see Dave Crowder is absurd. And even if the people who go are genuine in their praise, I think it is a shame they cheapen themselves to do so. Do I think Jesus would pay to worship? (Besides the temple tax?) I somehow doubt it. In fact, I believe that it was our Lord and Savior who made a whip and cleared the temple of moneymakers. I can’t judge Dave Crowder’s motives, he may be sincere and honest and probably is, but I still think this is wrong.

I saw Shane and Shane once, and it was weird. First of all, their name sounds like a kid’s show shown on weekdays only on Nickelodeon, but I also thought the entire thing felt like something from the twilight zone. This was before they were big. I didn’t really know who they were and granted, I only went because a girl I liked was going, but it was still odd. First they performed some of their own stuff, like a show. Okay, I’m at a concert. Then halfway through, they make this transition into worship that we are supposed to partake in. First I am being entertained, then I am to switch modes and suddenly worship? It did not happen and the whole thing felt completely not right and even hokey.

Lastly, emotionalism. I honestly believe this is a huge part of why people go to these concerts. It gives them a spiritual “buzz” that makes them feel they are closer to God and love Him more. Or maybe rather, they feel they experience Gods love for them more. (Either case they are being selfish and going not to worship the Lord but because of what they get out of it.) I hate this. I hate emotionalism and how sneaky and false it is. How you can trick yourself into feeling anything. I am not trying to but sexist here, but on an aside, I have noticed it is mainly females that get into these worship concerts. They also tend to be more emotional then men. Coincidence? I also see them have the same response to Dave Crowder as they do to a rock star. The dreamy eyes, the lure of musicians, and they say things like, “Oh I love Shane and Shane?” So wait a minute, it is Shane and Shane you are going to love, that you are going to see, not the Lord. I get it. Simply put, if you can get the same feeling from a U2 or Coldplay concert then maybe you should question what is really going on.

Let me quickly address some protests as well. I think one of the great tragedies of Christian culture (besides the fact it sucks) is that it leaves virtually no room for criticism. Who am I to criticize somebody’s music if they are doing their best to use their gifts for God? If even one person does worship God at one of these shows then how can I have the right to criticize that? The Christian culture may be the absolute safest for an artist to work in because, hey, how can I possibly say something is wrong or bad, even if they are not talented or good, if they do their best for the Lord? I have heard this before. My response is that A. Any public art that wishes to be taken seriously as art has to be open to criticism. B. And if what you say is true, then you can never criticize any Christian culture, not the cheesy Jesus junk at Christian bookstores or Carmen and the stuff he craps out and calls music as well.

What about an artist who does their best for God? Isn’t that worship as well. My friend, Andrew mentioned Petra. Were they not worshiping the Lord? THEY were, I wasn’t. The artist who does his/her best for the Lord is worshiping the Lord with their talents, but they are not LEADING others in worship. Someone there might worship the Lord but that was not the intent of the show. I did not go see Petra to worship the Lord, I went to be entertained nor did I consider their music worship, even though their own efforts, in their relationship with God, were worship on their part. (As an aside, I could argue me writing this is an act of worship, yet you are not worshiping the Lord through this, rather I am, you are just reading it and thinking upon it.)

“What about a Christian conference that you pay money for?” asks my brother Michael. This is a good question. Is paying to see Tom Nelson teach Song of Solomon wrong then? I think not because I think there is a subtle yet significant difference here. When you pay to go to a conference, you are paying to get something out of it. Something you take home with you. Usually materials, notes etc but also education and the fact you are usually equipping yourself to be more effective in ministry or in your walk etc. You are paying, in a sense, for a service you get something in return for. These conferences also don’t have the intense, personal devotion of worship usually. If I pay to go see a conference on multimedia in the church, I am paying for a resource. Worship on the other hand is sacrificial and free. You give of yourself to the Lord and not expect anything in return so I believe the issue is different.

I have no problem with buying a worship CD and listening to it in your daily life. It might help you focus more on the Lord in your private time or be used as a tool to keep your mind free of foreign thoughts. I think buying a CD is different. You are paying for production and musicians etc. I think it’s the concerts, the tours, the expensive tickets, the rock star syndrome, the emotionalism, the hoopla and sideshows I have a problem with.

Lastly, I have one more reason I’m against these shows. It’s the fact that I’m also just plain jealous of musicians.

Well there you go folks, let me know what you think. Comments, thoughts etc.

PS. This entry excludes the original keyboard jockey greats like Al Denson. His was some of the most original, meaningful, praise around! I never was so close to God as when I sang "Pharaoh, Pharaoh". In particular the 573 rd time I sang it at Dawson McAllister, in one weekend, was the most moving experience I ever had.

Its 1:28 P.M. and I am listening to silence. Now I have an idea for this next entry. I am tempted to convert it into an email format and try and start one of the urban legend type emails. You know, certain Christian emails chains go around about various things we should be aware of. I am really thinking of doing that with this and sending it to you all to send to others and see if it catched on. Let me know what you think.

See You at the Pump!

Christians everywhere are being urged to go to their local gas stations on August 1^st and pray for lower gas prices. With the current price at over three dollars per gallon, believers everywhere are feeling the pinch.

“We are raising prayers up to heaven just as gas prices are being raised here on earth.” Said Rev. Raymond Young 3^rd of Stonewood Fellowship Church in Houston Texas. “It has gotten to the point where many of our congregation can barely fuel their luxury SUV’s. So on the morning of August 1^st we are encouraging Christians everywhere to gather around their local gas pumps and pray that the Lord works in mighty ways to lower prices for everyone.”

The idea was originally started by a high school student in the church’s youth ministry named Jason Mathews, who claims to have gotten the idea while participating in a similar event for students called See You at the Pole, in which students gather around their school flag poles and pray to it. He took the idea to his youth minister, whom the students called Pastor Steve, who then brought the idea to Rev. Young, and soon the movement was started.

“I’m so proud of Jason,” says his mother, Lisa Robertson-Mathews, “we were really struggling as a family. We were praying about which vehicle to drive, the Hummer 2 or the Lexus LX5, now this gives me hope we can do both.”

“Now we really are thanking heaven for 7-11” joked Rev. Young. “After we pray for the gasoline prices to fall, we also encourage people to pray for the Middle Eastern countries that the oil comes from. In fact, many of the workers at the gas stations come from those countries. This would be a great opportunity to show them that we care for their souls as well as their oil.”

When asked about whether or not political decisions and the invasion of Iraq had anything to do with the increased gas prices, Rev. Young was quick to add that, “I don't really know about that but whatever the cause may be, we don’t believe for a minute it has to do with President Bush or his administrations policy’s in the middle east. We stand behind him completely.”

Whatever the case may be, Christians everywhere hope to see you at the pump on the morning of August 1^st.

Later guys.

What the dell?

Greetings and salutations, it is 9:15 and I am listening to smooth jazz of some sorts at Starbucks. Yes, that’s correct, I’m writing to you from Starbucks coffee, which means that yes, I’m now the proud parent of a new Dell Inspiron Laptop. So what does this mean to you, fair citizen of New Prussia? It means, hopefully, that I will be doing more writing, which means that you can read more of my blogs, among other things. So I’m finding that learning to type on a laptop is much more difficult then I thought it would be. Additionally it may give me carpal tunnel syndrome because after about five minutes my wrists already hurt. However now I can be that guy, the guy you always see hanging out at coffee shops, looking cool and trendy with his laptop, typing away at some important document. Is he a businessman negotiating a deal? Maybe an attorney writing a brief? Mayhap, he is a blossoming new writer, on the cusp of discovery and fame and fortune. Who knows as mysteries surround this dashing young man, but whatever the case, dang, doesn’t he look important and cool? And now I get to be that guy. Here is the scenario I can now picture happening. Read as it unfolds.

Handsome and mysterious Jeff walks in and sits down with a cup of coffee and begins to write on his laptop. Soon a hot, dumb, blond chick comes in, orders a nonfat Chai Latte, and sits down near him. She eyes him curiously and thinks to herself “hmm he is awfully dapper and working on a laptop at a coffee shop, surely he must be rich.” She moves over and smiles at me.

Curious, hot, dumb blond: “Hi, I’m ____” (her name isn’t terribly important but it is probably something like Tiffany, or Candi or something hot like that.)

Handsome writer Jeff: “Hello, I’m R. Jefferson Jordan.”

Curious, hot, dumb blond: “What are you working on?” She says as she bats her eyes and leans in close. (She hopes it’s a bank merger worth millions but she doesn’t really care as long as it makes me/her wealthy.)

Handsome writer Jeff: “Well, it’s a story about the selling of human heads as a novelty item, but really it’s a satire about post world war two America and the mass commercialism it produced to help cope with it’s fear of a nuclear Soviet Union and it’s possession of the A-bomb. (Or perhaps I say, “It is a sci-fi story set on planet mars about a werewolf coming to grips with his homosexuality but in actuality it’s really a metaphor for the fall of the Antebellum south and life during the civil war and subsequent Union occupation.”}

Now completely bored and disinterested hot, dumb blond: “Um, ok, nice to meet you. Bye!” She says in a complete lack of comprehension of everything I said. She then rolls her eyes and struts away.

Suddenly the pretty, artistic girl dressed in Bohemian garb and a stylish peasant shirt who, I failed to notice due to hot, dumb blond, but was sitting in the corner reading a collection of essays or possibly Atlas Shrugged looks over at me and speaks.

Pretty Bohemian girl: “Really! That is incredibly fascinating! I love post world war two satire. Tell me more. Do you write much?”

Handsome and shocked writer Jeff: “Well I do now.”

Pretty Bohemian girl laughs at my witty remark: “Hi, my name is Sabine.” (Or some other cool name like that.)

We start with small talk and as the coffee starts flowing so does the conversation. We chat lightly about existentialism, discuss the viability of ruling parts of central Europe, stopping briefly upon art and if it can have meaning in a post-modern era, and diverge into other meaningful dialogues. We exchange numbers, go out and spend the next few years together. Maybe we move to New York or maybe we travel to Bohemia and tour other parts of central Europe (as I show her my future domain.)

All during this time I continue to write, become published and get very rich and famous. I begin to move in the upper echelon of high society, mixing and mingling (you knew mingling had to be included) with actors and writers, diplomats and royalty.

Then one day at some random gala event, I look across the room and see her. Hot dumb blond all dolled up and on the prowl. She notices me and walks over. She smiles and introduces herself. She feigns both interest and understanding as we chat. Soon we exchange contact information and depart. That night I dump pretty Bohemian girl for hot dumb blond and the rest is history.

Well that is more or less the scenario that I envision and I think it is a good one.

What’s in a name? Well having a laptop means I need to come up with a name for it. So I’m asking for suggestions. I have two lines of thought here. First of all, the name must be female because all guys name machines after females, (i.e. The Memphis Belle or the Indianapolis Ho) so a female name is defintaly in order. Here are some names I thought of.

Natasha- The old fallback name.

Sabine- In honor of the Bohemian I will some day dump.

Danika- I like this name but I actually new a girl with this name and I would hate for her to hear this someday and think I named it after her.

Isabelle- This leads to another name as well.

Coraline- I stole this from a Neil Gaiman title.

Adaline- I like this name to, it’s also the title of a Elliot Smith song.

Ok. that’s the first list. The second list stems from the fact that my laptop is a Dell, and involves puns made from it. I nominate these names as well.

Adel - get it? A dell.

Isadell- This is kind of funny because it’s a take on Isabelle ...Is A Dell

Adelline- This is funny to because it’s a take on Adeline. A dell-ine.

Madeline - Mad-dell-line- and possibly in honor of my friend Brian’s daughter, which would be weird.

Della- A take off of Ella- also another friend of mine's daughter, which could also be weird.

I’m leaning towards Isadell. Who knew that female names with Dell could be so much fun?

There is one more thing to discuss. In my last entry, so long ago, I mentioned astronauts as hero’s and Kelly said she never thought of them as such. To girls they probably weren’t but to little boys they have always been held up as heroes, even though I contend they now aren’t. Worst of all, Rhino suggested that, by my logic, athletes aren’t hero’s either. I fail to see this. Granted, they don’t have mutant powers or slay orcs, but that doesn’t mean they are not heroes. In fact, they may be the only hero’s we have left. Think about it, they are the modern day equivalent of ancient warriors. They perform great feats of physical prowess, doing what very few can do. Slinging stones? Wielding a sword? Fighting in hand-to-hand combat? There were all skills based on physical ability. Modern athletes are a continuation of this theme. They battle against each other in arena’s and the have tremendous athletic ability. What is more glorious then making a clutch buzzer beating, game wining three point shot from 23 ft away to win a play off game? What could beat a running back, twisting and turning, juking and hurtling over defenders, to score a touch down to defeat the enemy and win a super bowl? What about the Olympics? See they ARE great.

Until next time, keep your underwear on and keep it dry.

Heroes Come and Go

It is 5:30 P.M. and I am listening to Elliot Smith.

Here is an issue that has haunted me recently. Are astronauts heroes? The other day I was thinking upon heroes and what goes into the idea of being one. Why I do not know but I was. I then thought about astronauts and how everyone regards them as such. I wondered if they really were heroes and after much mental anguish I decided that they are definitely not heroes. Not anymore anyways. I mean think about it, we send people into space every other Friday, its' like payday. Is this really heroic anymore? Now the original men in space, the pioneers, and the chimp we sent up, they were certainly heroic. They risked themselves in unexplored regions with relying on equipment that my pocket calculator is more powerful then. The men on the moon, they were certainly hero’s as well. But modern astronauts? They are everywhere, they visit schools, are on TV, you can’t get away from them. That being said, the men and women who died in the two shuttle explosions would be exceptions and I mean them no ill will, but as for the rest? I think they're just trying to use their status to get laid. I mean heroes vanquish evil, they cast powerful rings into the only mountain that can destroy them, or they have claws that come out of their wrists and other mutant powers. Or sometimes they storm the beaches at Normandy as well. Astronauts don’t even wear capes.

Think about it this way. Who views astronauts as heroes? Children. Do their opinions really count? I mean children view Jedi, (or in my case the Sith) Cowboys, and Pirates as hero’s too. But when you get older, are they still heroes? Who cares about cowboys? Around here we make fun of them. So why are astronauts still considered so great? And for the final nail in the coffin consider this. Not only has the United States sent men into space but so have the Soviet Union, the European Space Agency and China. You’re telling me the technologically stone aged Soviet Union and the cowardly France have sent men into space and we still consider it great and courageous? That alone proves the feat is over rated and as for the French, the probably went into space to escape another foreign invasion. So I rest my case, astronauts are no longer hero’s. Sorry about that.

And now it’s time for another addition of,

Great Moments in OCD History: So I am working the closing shift at work, we are running behind due to a last minute rush of people but we finally close. Then the dreaded words that strike fear into my inner core are issued. “Hey Jeff, could you clean the bathrooms? And try and hurry because we are behind schedule.” Something inside of me vomits black bile into the chasm of my soul. None the less, I had cleaned them before and in theory, the more I do it the easier it is supposed to get. (A form of exposure therapy, albeit extreme.) So I smile and lie, “Sure no problem.” And I grind my teeth and set out upon my fate.

It should be duly noted that in order to properly clean the restrooms while not setting off OCD to much, it requires time to carefully do so. I did not have time and was trying to hurry and overcome all this anxiety. I spray junk on the toilet and scrub it with the brush, up and down a few times. Then on the up motion, that is when it happened. I have dubbed it the toothbrush affect, the wet bristles being pulled against something and splattering out on things nearby. Only the nearby object it splattered on was my face. Time froze, an atomic bomb went off in my stomach, I got hot and panicky. What was I to do? Scrubbed toilet water on my face!?!? The boy with OCD! I cannot possibly begin to describe the horror it caused. I was almost paralyzed. To make matters worse, we were trying to hurry so I didn’t get to stop and wash it off an appropriate matter for at least twenty minutes. It was a nightmare. Later I poured sanitizer on my face, wiped down with alcohol swabs and took a shower. I would have scrubbed my face with comet and bleach if I didn’t think it would blind me. I even considered shaving my goatee, since some of the water hit it. That was a few days ago and I am still waiting for the Aids, or Hepatitis A, B and C to set in.

Well, see you later.

Dream On.

Hello all. I hope the reading of this blog finds you well. It is 2:22 A.M and I am listening to nothing but the quiet stillness of the night. I want to tell you about a dream I had the other night. It was odd. I dreamt that my brother and I were trying to get on TV as hosts for MTV’s coverage of the NFL draft. Of course MTV doesn’t cover the draft so that makes the tale even weirder. We weren’t doing a very good job impressing them but somehow we were able to worm our way on TV. There was the usual pre-draft rumors and analysis and discussed all these things. The Miami Dolphins had somehow gotten the first pick in the draft (in reality it is Houston.) and were soon going to make their selection. Most people predicted Reggie Bush or Vince Young, no one was sure of which one though. Then the Dolphins walked up to the podium, the room hushed, they gave the commissioner their slip of paper. He opened it, read and cleared his throat. He leaned into his microphone and said “With the first overall pick of this years’ draft, the Miami Dolphins select Will Smith.”

We were all amazed as Will Smith came out and put on a Dolphins jersey. Apparently, not only can he get jiggy with it, but he also makes one hell of a quarterback. I woke up shortly after that. I did not want to stick around to see if the Cowboys selected Mark Walberg or Eminem.

Immigration Protests Result in Largest Illegal Alien Bust

Last weekend thousands upon thousands of Latinos took to the streets to protest immigration reform in the Untied States and thousands upon thousands of them were arrested for illegal immigration. It was the single largest bust law enforcement agencies have ever made. “Well, we saw all these protesters and realized many of them were probably here illegally. It was as easy as shooting ducks in a barrel really,” says Dallas police officer Brad Hinckley. “We couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity.”

The idea has taken root in other areas as well. “We would like to encourage everyone to come out to next months’ drug dealer rally as well. It should be fun for all.” He added. Protests for sex offenders and terrorists are also planned in the coming months.

Well that’s all for now folks. See you later.

Two Deaths and Would You Like that Decaf?

Greetings everyone, it is 7:00 P.M. and I am listening to KT Tunstall. Much has happened in my “life” the last week or so. Well not much really, mainly I got a job. Now I know you are dying to find out where, so I won’t hold back, I’m now a proud Barista of the fabled Starbucks company. I work at the Casa Linda location at Buckner and Garland Road. For those of you who know me you know I love the independent artistic coffee shops the most, but there aren’t any of those around here so I am at the SB. Anyways, it isn’t a bad job, not yet, and Starbucks hooks their employees up, also we wear green aprons and green as we all know, is my power color so it is kind of cool. In response to David’s posting, I have often thought of a website but I don’t content wise if I have enough stuff yet. I am taking a multimedia class and we are getting into HTML and web design so I might end up doing one soon.

Nipped in the Bud- Well there was another death in New Prussia. I must admit it has been a few months since we have had one and I was beginning to feel safe in the land of the living only to have the dark wings of death come and swoop it all away. This death happened a couple weeks ago but since I am so far behind in my blogging (as always) I will post it anyways. This outstanding rerun hero lived in the iconoclast town of Mayberry. This show was huge and loved by all and came to represent all that America was. Of course I am talking about Barney Fife from the Andy Griffith show. That’s right. Don Knotts passed into the great beyond and I can just now bring myself to talk about it. His nervous energy and weird antics were a childhood inspiration. I even had a shirt with him on it at one point. Not only the Andy Griffith show though, but who could forget the movies? I mean who could forget the Apple Dumpling Gang or The Incredible Mr. Limpit? Anyways, here’s to you, Don, nip it in the bud.

God tired of waiting on U.N.

The Hague, Netherlands- In what can only be described as an act of divine judgment former Serbian ruler Slobodan Milosevic was found dead in his prison cell with only fifty hours of testifying left in his trial. The news sent a wave of shock and suspicion throughout Europe. Milosevic had been in prison since the late 1990’s and had been on trial for four years. Many suspected foul play or revenge and an investigation began. That was until a celestial being cleared up the matter.

Gabriel, archangel and spokesman for God the Almighty, held a press release in which he stated, “The U.N. has had their chance to bring justice to this matter. The trial has taken four years and God was tired of waiting on your petty human institutions. He, the Almighty, decided to bring justice to all the thousands of innocent Croatians that were butchered by Milosevic.” He went on to add that the cries for justice from the graves of thousands of innocent dead were so loud that something simply had to be done. “No one in heaven could enjoy a peaceful eternity with all that ruckus.” He also added.

It is true that the U.N. had come under much fire for it slow and time consuming process of litigation. Milosevic had been in prison for several years before the trial even began, and it has gone on four years since then. To many it appeared a mockery of justice.

The U.N. was in shock at the pronouncement and tried to subpoena God to see if this was true. God merely refused to be subpoenaed and it is feared many earthquakes will result from the presumptuous attempt.

“If this is true, that God brought this death it could constitute a serious undermining of human will.” Stated U.N. Secretary General Kofi Annan, who is also under a cloud of suspicion for taking bribes. “We believe in justice and fairness in our world that no one has the right to interfere with.”

Gabriel rebutted saying “For all the talk of human rights and justice, the U.N. system is sure slow in bringing it about. We in heaven are just glad these aren’t the same guys who handled Nuremberg.”

Well , thats about it for now folks. Catch ya later.

Let the Games Begin......and End Quickly Please.

It is 7.00 P.M. 26 Feb, 2006 and I am listening to Badly Drawn Boy. I appreciate your musical comments. David made extremely good points with his rock album suggestions (especially Metallica in my opinion) and I agree with Poop's assessment with U2. While I did not think their last album was great, I merely meant they are still cooler then ever.

Well the Olympics have come and gone and I was tired of them before they began. I was certainly tired of hearing about Bode Miller, before he decided to suck. The U.S. Olympic team had been a huge disappointment this year. With the apathy if Bode Miller, the choke job of Sasha Cohen, the even bigger choke of the hockey team, the foolish arrogance of Lindsey Jacobson-ellis (or whatever her name is) and the civil war that erupted on the speed skate team, it has been a pretty sorry showing for the good 'ole U.S.A. It's just as well I don't really care about the games anymore. That being said, let's make fun of them.

IOC Announces Rioting as New Event.

Torino, Italy – In a press conference yesterday members of the International Olympic Committee, as well as the current committee president Jacques Rogge, made an announcement that rioting will now be added as event and hopes to see the sport appear when the next winter Olympics are held in four years.

Rogge cited the summer riots in France as well as the recent riots, caused by a Danish cartoon, as the inspiration for this measure.

“Throughout the history of the world riots have always been an integral part of any civilized societies political life. As a boy I can remember reading of the riots in France before the revolution broke out, and I recall whishing I could have participated in them. As I look around the world today, I realize the sport is still alive and well.”

The new event will have a five member panel of judges, often members of opposing factions, such as Israel’s and Arabs or Jews and Muslims. The scoring will be based on several factors but includes how much damage is done measured in monetary amounts, the number of cars burned, the fever pitch the crowd of the crowd and even the artistic element of creative flag burning will be considered.

“As of now there at two events that will be held. The short protest, which last one hour, and is of smaller scale, and the full scale uprising, which will last three hours and involve interaction with police in riot gear.”

The latter event will stress the athletes training and endurance as they are forced to overcome the use of tear gas as well as overcoming obstacles such as road blocks and armored cars.

When questioned about these events being held in the winter Olympics Rogge responded, “We just saw a round of riots all across the Middle East so clearer rioting can take place in the winter. Not only that but we really wanted to create a sport that would give many Middle Eastern countries a good chance at winning a winter medal. Right now they just don’t have much of a chance. I personally can’t wait to see how well Iran performs and of course the Palestinians could well score on the level of an insurgency.”

Other committee members went on to add that Syria, Lebanon and Indonesia are strong contenders but that one should never count out the resourcefulness of the United States, especially in areas like Compton. Latin America was also named as a strong possible winner. Whatever the case may be, the new event is sure to be exciting.

News briefs:

President Bush threatens to invade opponents. Citing his controversial foreign policy President Bush announced that defeating the U.S. in any event (except curling) can and will be considered a direct attack on America itself and therefore the offending nation is now open to invasion, especially if they produce oil. He then went on to add that, "while they are gathered together in Italy, it would be a perfect opportunity to take them all out."

Condoleezza Rice suggests FEMA aid to Italy. Last Thursday the Secretary of State said that she thought FEMA should be deployed to Torino to help clean up the disaster that this years U.S. team has created.

Area Preacher Likens TV Coverage to God's Wrath. The Rev. Bill Sickes of First Baptist Church of Jackson, Mississippi is tired the sappy NBC coverage. He likens it to being worse then God's wrath. In a sermon last Sunday he stated that "I would rather have all seven bowls of wrath poured upon me at once then have to sit through one more cheesy, sentimental, human interest story. If Bob Costas tells me one more time how dramatic the games are or what kind of sentiment I should have for a specific moment then I hope God, in His infinite mercy, opens all seven seals at once and allows me to bear the brunt of them all.”

Well that's about all for now folks. I miss football already.

Been a Long Time Since I Rock 'n Rolled...

Greetings. Well some of you expressed concern after my last two sentence entry. I appreciate it but I will not go into detail. Let's just say my goal this spring is to get my mind back and it is a very daunting task. Some things need to be dealt with mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I don't think people really understand the toll it can take on people. Some demons needs to be slain, and I am not talking about Dungeon and Dragons here folks. But that is TMI and while this is a journal of sorts, it's also as much as I am willing to say right now. However, yes Kelly, there are things worse then trying to pick up Michael Moore. Listening to him is worse and watching one of his propaganda films is definitely worse.

I have been listening to Led Zeppelin's album Led Zeppelin, also called Led Zeppelin 4 among the true fans. I have some good Led Zepplin trivia for you but I will save it for another entry. This is a phenomenal album. Every now and then I just want to say screw all the angst ridden, please-kill-me-now emo crap, I just want some guitar jamming, drum smashing good ole' fashioned F#$@ing rock 'n roll! Is that to much to ask for? (Please forgive my pretend bad language mom and dad.)

Ok seriously, this has to be one of the top five rock albums of all times. Every song but one or two was a hit. It has Black Dog, Been a Long Time Since I Rock 'n Rolled, Misty Mountain Hop, Going to California, Stairway to Heaven and When the Levee Breaks on it. Can anybody think of a better rock album? Now remember, we are talking pure rock here, not better albums as whole. Certainly Sgt Pepper or Pet Sounds may be better, but they aren't really rock. Somebody suggested Exile on Main Street , by the Rolling Stones. I know it is considered one of the best albums ever but alas, I have not listened to much of it. Maybe Tommy by the Who? (or of course Deliverance) Please discuss amongst yourselves. Some of you might suggest Kiss or some one else from the 70's, but I don't dig kiss. There is one option that stands out. U2- Joshua Tree, is this considered a rock album? Which brings us to my next topic.

The Grammys-

The Grammys were on the other night and I watched part of it. Unlike, the Oscar's, I actually kind of like the Grammys. For one, they can actually put together a good music act, unlike the Oscar's who do lame things like a musical montage of Pulp Fiction and Evita, performed by Paul Anka, Neil Young and the Vienna Boys Choir. The Grammys have the ability to be witty and clever but also edgy at times as well. The can hire Dave Chappelle and not have complaints unlike the stuffy, pretentious Oscar's which has Sean Penn getting mad at Chris Rock. No the Grammys aren't too bad, and once again U2 raked it in.

U2 is performing at a new level all together. Not only are they at the top of their game, but they have created an entire new sport. Seriously, is there anybody bigger then them right now? Is their anybody cooler then them? Not the Stones, not even Coldplay. Did you see them accept the Grammy for best song? They didn't get excited, or energetic or anything, they just got up, strolled up to the stage and took their award, all with a look that said -"yeah, that's right, we just won another Grammy and we'll be back up here later tonight. Oh, and if we feel like it we'll do it again next year." I love them.



"See how cool they are?"

On another note. Did anybody see the story that came out last week about how in 2002 the U.S. Government thwarted a terrorist attack in Las Angelas? Apparently it was another attempt to crash a plane into a building and they found out about it and stopped it. It was in L.A. so I think we all know who was really at work here.



That's right, it looks like Jack Baur was at it again.

Well that is about all for now. Peace out Napoleon.

Demon Slaying

I'm not ready to face the battles that lie ahead.
How could I ever be?

The Sith and I, Spiritual Insights from Star Wars.

Well, it's Monday 23 January, 2006 and all is quiet on the front. It is strange how I resolved to blog more and on the 3rd I had an entry and I look up and it's 20 days later. My apologies. If you're wondering what's new in my life I am sick with a cold. I hate being sick, except when it lets me off work, but I should be better soon.
I am now completely moved out of Denton and back in with Ma and Pa. Many people ask me how it is. To you I would have to say that 1.) Life just got a lot slower and 2.) The food just got a heck of a lot better. I hear people often say they couldn't move back in with their parents after being on there own so long. That their parents' authority and what knot would bother them. For me it is not an issue. My parents are cool about letting me do my own thing, they always have been. It's not like I'm 15 and they are going to put a curfew or something on me. Anyways, it is good to spend time with the folks and be closer to the nursing home for my grandmother. Was it the best decision? I guess. It's where I am so I guess it's where I'm supposed to be, right? I do miss my cat though.


The Sith and I:
By now you are probably incredibly curious as to the title of this entry and I shall delay explanation no longer. The other day I was thinking about how cool it would be if we had some sort of Force like powers in Star Wars. Then I realized that if we did have these kinds of powers I would undoubtedly be a Sith Lord.
Now for those of you who know me, I am sure this comes as no surprise. You are probably thinking to yourself, "Well duh, it's about time he realized that." This holds especially true for my friends in Memphis. Yes this is true, but I have discovered it from a new angle. Let me explain.
To sum it up in two words: total depravity. Yes, the idea that man in and of himself can do nothing pleasing to God or know Him. I was thinking about my own inability to overcome sin, my own appetites, my own dark desires and how much of a struggle they are. I know from my own personal experience that man cannot overcome these things on his own. I realized that if it were left up to me I would fall every time. Not only fall every time, but I woul look for and create ways to fall.
The Light side teaches balance through self-discipline and self denial. This is impossible for me. I would give in to my own lusts, selfishness, hatred, jealousy, arrogance and every other sin I might struggle with every time. There is no way to balance these things or overcome them on my own. I would have been a Sith Lord by junior high. That's right, Darth Jefferson, sitting in his class room, getting ready to force choke the bullies who picked on me and then zap the jocks with lightning. I know Darth Jefferson isn't as sexy as Vader or Sidious but it's the truth all the same.
I think maybe the biggest lie in the Star Wars philosophy isn't the Pantheistic, New Age, mystical spirituality that is easy to see through. I think that maybe it is the idea that man can balance his walk through life on his own. That he can be good all by himself. It is quite obvious to me that I need somebody from the outside to reach in and save me. Fortunately as a Christian I have just that. Now if I could just get that light saber.

Well guys, that's one for the road. Catch you later.

On the Road Again.

Its 10:52 on Tuesday and I have been listening to Coldplay's X & Y. You're in luck tonight because I am blogging once more. That's twice in two weeks and the pleasure is all mine. I have recently been visited by one of my old friends. I like to call him Dezy but you might know him by his more formal name; Despair. Yes, it's that old sinking feeling that I have absolutely no ability to live this life in any capacity at all. Am I making right decisions? Why don't I have more peace about things? Why aren't my student loans consolidated when they are supposed to be? Is this life really worth living and is God really enough to get me through it? Will Bill Parcell's continue to coach the Cowboys and who will keep my cat when I move? Seriously though, everything seems so impossible. Oh, let's not forget depression and OCD. I want my mind back please.
I'm moving back home for the spring, back in with my parents, to try and save money. I think it's the best thing to do. After much prayer and consideration I still have no good answer except that I'm slowly gaining some peace about. It took at least a month though. I'm also taking a class on multimedia at community college. I'm not thrilled at the prospect of more school when I just spent six years trying to get out but oh well, maybe it will okay. This is just a rant I suppose, so let's have some fun now.

You may have seen all of this bowl games going on. There are around 30 some odd bowl games and they all have corporate sponsors which leaves me an open invitation to add to the list. Here are some lesser known sponsors or in some cases, lesser known games.

-The ACLU Liberty Bowl.
-The Scurvy Citrus Bowl.
-The Wolf Brand Chili Bowl - avoid the bathrooms here.
-The Zoloft Bowl- Free samples at the door.
-The United Nations Bowl - The U.S. will not participate in this one.
-The New Orleans bowl has been renamed the FEMA Bowl.
-The Insurgency Bowl- Featuring Army vs. Navy and held in Baghdad.
-The Insight Bowl will be followed by the Oblivious Bowl.
-The ERA Glass Ceiling Bowl- in protest of all male teams.
-In an exercise of its own namesake, the Independence Bowl has decided that it will not be held this year.
- And yes, I will go there because it is so obvious, the Pine-Sol Toilet Bowl.

I was trying to think of one for the Southern Baptist Convention and the 7 bowls of wrath bowl but I couldn't quite get it right.

If you haven't seen the list, it's crazy, these are all real games.
-The Pioneer Pure Vision Las Vegas Bowl
-Continental Tire Bowl
-Gaylord Hotels Music City Bowl
-EV1.net Houston Bowl
-Silicon Valley Bowl

The list goes on but as you can see, the system is a little out of hand. Anyways, feel free to add your own, I would be disappointed if you didn't. Good night.