The Most Serious Entry Since......Well, My First One

I currently have no song stuck in my head since I am listening to Damien Rice and he fills my head instead. And now for some darkness.

Ladies and Gentlemen, for those of you have been following, you may know I have been trying to move to New York. That is now no longer the case. I repeat, New York is a no go. Nadda, zilch, not gonna happen, the big zero, negatory, nyet, and other negative words. Notwithstanding a miracle anyways. So don't ask if I'm still planning on going, and this really leaves me with nothing.

So much for dreaming big, taking risks, not settling for a mundane life and all that other crap. (I know this doesn't mean I will have a mundane life, I just mean for now.) I can wax some eloquent blasphemy on my thoughts about prayer and God and His will and all right now but I guess I won't. So where does this leave me? Stuck in piss-ant Denton.I feel as though, at this moment, I have absolutely nothing to look forward to. Sure, there exists vague, murky promises of potential relationships someday, moving off someday, doing something someday. But that is all in the cloudy and obscure specter of someday. What now? I had nothing else planned.

I could move to Dallas. Whoopee. In fact, I am interviewing for a job soon. If I get this job it will be better to stay here in Denton. So Dallas is out of the question right now. I am in Denton...sweet Moses that's exciting.
I spent the last six months deliberately not meeting girls because I figured I would be moving off. Nice thought. I have also spent the last 5 years in Denton and we see how that has turned out.
I have no money from not working most of the summer. I have no car because mine was destroyed. Yes I have family and friends here. God would provide friends wherever I go though.
So now the question is, did I bring this on myself. I tried to find a job all summer but it didn't happen. Did I not try hard enough? Was I to lazy? There must have been somewhere I could have worked. Was it Proverbs, " A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands, and poverty will come on you like a bandit, scarcity like a armed man?" Or was this God's way of keeping me from going up to NY and making some mistake? I tend to always lean to the argument that blames me. Of course, I would blame myself for Pearl Harbor if I could.

So now where do I go and what do I do? I am graduating on Saturday, with a degree in history when I think I want to do something in media. (Actually I think all I want to do is write.) And like I said, I feel I have nothing to look forward to. This is supposed to be a fun and exciting time in life but instead it is just depressing and anxiety producing and in the end it just isn't worth it. Screw it all.

I know there are verses in the Bible about God's plans and all. Spare me the references. And while your at it, spare me the sentimental encouraging BS as well. To sum it all up, here are some pictures by Goya, one of my favourite artists, to describe how I feel.






Well, you get the picture. At least football season is almost here.

Speaking of Dreams: I had a really strange dream the other night. I dreamed I was a country music star that really wanted to be a rock star. I was in a concert wearing tight jeans, a hat and a Garth shirt. As the concert progressed I kept trying to play more and more rock on my guitar instead of country. I tried to sneak it in, so to speak. The audience wouldn't go for it though. It was weird.

Anyway, I know things aren't as bad as I think they are. I just wanted to get it out. See you at the party Saturday, I'm sure I'll be feeling better by then.

These Old Bones...

Hello everyone. First of all, I have Everlong, by the Foo Fighters stuck in my head for some wierd reason. Secondly, I went horseback riding last weekend with a friend of mine. Here is a pick of me pretending to be an urban cowboy. The horse was named T.J. and I decided that wasn't Czar-ish enough so I said T.J. stood for Tyberious Jupiter.
I also had the urge to pretend I was a Rohirium in the Lord of the Rings, charging down Orcs at the Battle of Pelanor Fields, brandishing my sword and performing deeds that would be sung of for ages. Then I also pictured myself charging down French soldiers instead and laughed as they fled in horror before me, which was just as amusing to me. At that point my horse really did start to gallup and I nearly wet myself as reality set in. It was fun none the less.

I wish to say that lately I have noticed a very strange thing happening to me. I have been getting old. How do I know this you may ask? Well, keep reading for I present to you...

Top Reasons You Know Your Getting Old.

1. It is Friday or Saturday night and you have absolutely nothing to do but stay home and play video games or read- and you don't really care anymore, you are perfectly fine with this.

2. You can no longer stay out past midnight without being exhausted the next day. In fact you begin to shun events that would keep you out past midnight and even make up lame excuses to your younger friends.

3. Your bowels have declared a Jihad on you. Enough said.

4. You meet a girl and think, "she is probably to young for me", and she turns out to be 22.

5. You throw a party and don't really care who shows up anymore. None of this, "who is going to be there?" or "what are we going to watch?" you just have fun with whomever shows up.

6. You are slowly but surely going bald. I hope this only applies to guys.

7. You no longer like any stations on the radio except Talk Radio, KLUV, or Sunny 97.

8. You get your but kicked by Junior highers playing Halo 2.

9. You find yourself needing exercise just to create energy.

10. You forget things a lot easier and can't think of good items to finish off your list you make on your blog.

These are all things I more or less have experienced to some degree. So I must face the music that I am getting old. In fact, the big 30 is just around the corner and I am near the home stretch. With all the bowel aches, head aches, allergies and whatever else I might have by the time I marry, I should just open a gift registry at the local pharmacy. I will probably be so old that instead of throwing rice on the way out you can just throw Viagra. You can also decorate my walker instead of my car.

Moving On: Two more notable deaths in the last couple of weeks.

1. Gen. Westmoreland passed away on July 18th, 2005. For those of you who care, he was the General in charge of the U.S. Military in Vietnam up through 1968, when he stepped down. The whole mess of Vietnam is generally not considered his fault. He now joins the 60,000 American soldiers who died in the fighting.

2. James Doohan, i.e. "Scotty" from Star Trek passed away on July 20th. Now, I have a few things to say about this. First of all I feel that he has had an indirect influence on my life. I was never a Star Trek fan growing up, except for the movies. I still remember my Dad taking me and brother, along with our friends across the street, to see Star Trek 2, the Wrath of Khan, when it came out. But being as big of a Sci-Fi lover as I am, I have to give Star Trek it place in the Sci-Fi Hall of Fame. Also many of my good friends were/are Trekies so I feel that he has been of some influence on me, even if indirectly. Besides, who couldn't admire the likes of James Kirk, Spock, Bones , and Scotty and the rest? Ironically enough Scotty was not Scottish. For his funeral his casket was launched into space from the Photon Torpedo bay of a spaceship. (Pop quiz...anyone know what movie that is from?)

Well that's about it for now. I declare this my nerdiest blog to date, I better rein it in. It's almost eleven so I better go to bed soon, getting old you know.

A Mighty Wind Doth Bloweth

Hurricane Dennis just hit the Florida panhandle a few weeks ago. Now Emily just got done in Mexico. It seems to me every headline I see about hurricanes uses the terms hammers, slams or devastates whatever unfortunate land mass it hits and quite frankly, I am tired of it. I think the fact that it is a hurricane pretty much implies the fact it is hammering or slamming into something. I believe it is time for the media to be more creative with their verb usage as well as be more culturally relevant. That being said I have come up with a list of words I think would be much better. Picture these in the news.

-Hurricane Denzel Pimp Slaps Miami.
-Puerto Rico Just Got Served By Hurricane Esmeralda.
-Hurricane Bubba Opens Up A Can of Whoop On Mobile Alabama.
-Hurricane Fidel Is Hatin' On Key Largo.
-Hurricane Heather Tears Jamaica A New One.
-Hurricane Ferguson Ridicules Atlantic Coast.
-Hurricane Basil Gives Charleston the Old What-For.

Well you get the idea. That's probably enough for now. I could throw in some more random words to such as keeps it real, marinates, deep fry's, screws over, goes to town, owns or apologizes.
That being said, hammered and slammed are perfectly acceptable adjectives if you're referring to the effects of the alcoholic kind of Hurricanes.

On a slightly different note I think they need to change the names of hurricanes. They start with letter A every year and alternate male and female names. That is fine. What isn't fine is that most names don't live up to the storms hype. I mean, does Emily, Allison, Charlie or Dennis really sound like an all powerful storm? I think not. This is why we need to change them to more appropriate names. I move all Hurricanes be given German or Norse names. Like this.
- Adolf, Bjorn, Carsten, Dirk, Eva, Frigga, Gretchen, Hallerna..etc.
See how much better those sound? Of course you would have jump ahead a few and add Ragnor, Sven and Thor. Hurricane Thor just sounds cool.

Alternately, and this is the more likely scenario, they could license out naming rights to celebrities or corporations, much like stadiums do.

- Hurricane Dale Earnhart Crashes Into Tallahasse.
- Hurricane Home Improvement Cause For Massive Repairs.
- Hurricane Bacardi Rum Parties in Cancun.
- Hurricane Prozac Reduced to Tropical Depression.
- Hurricane W.C.W. Smacks Down Myrtle Beach.

Well that is probably all I can really think of right now. Merry Christmas.

P.S. I might add a picture to this later on.

I issue an apology- and Czar's don't apologize often.

Ok...it is painfully obvious to me that I am behind on my blogs. Does this make me a bad blogger? Yes. Does this make me an evil and disgusting person? Probably. Anyway, I attribute this to three or so factors. 1. Sears- I have a part time job at Sears right now and every evening when I leave my internship I go in for training. This is normally the time I would blog. 2. Life-I am trying to get my resume and other official stuff together-more time I would normally blog. 3. Settlers of Catan Online- ok...I am addicted to this little game. Every evening I turn on my computer only to find one of my friends online offering to play against me. How can I resist? 4. Social Life- Ok..my social life is somewhat suspect but it has taken its toll. For instance, I was busy every night this weekend with stuff going on. I guess this all goes to say that I have been pretty busy lately and my blogs take time. Especially if I photoshop something etc. I will do my best to have one soon. I am not going to bother proofing this entry so get over any mistakes in it.

PS. I have also found that just keeping up with everyone else's blogs has taken a lot of time as well. I am now trying to read 7 or 8 of them.

A Friend of New Prussia Dies...

Ladies and Gentlemen.
I wish that the posting of this entry was under a more joyous occasion but alas it was not meant to be. Normally I would wait a week before posting a new entryso soon (please see my P Diddy entry below this one. It is worth checking out.) but a most unfortunate event has occurred that leaves my heart wounded. For you see, a good friend of New Prussia, a fighter in our cause, Dr. Hiram Baker, from Little House on the Prairie, has passed away on this 12th of July 2005. I find it ironic that only a couple of weeks ago I was reminiscing fondly of Little House and now I found myself reeling from the sorrow. To me Dr. Baker was always an inspiration, a sort of grandfather figure to look up to. With his kind, reassuring smile, and every day wisdom, you know that if he said, "You'll be ok" then you would be ok. If he said "this will only hurt a little" then you knew it would only hurt a little.
I mean who couldn't admire somebody who was so wise as to say "Wood warms a man twice. Once when you chop it, and again when you burn it."
I think the best part about Doc Baker was that he was always willing to take whatever payment was available for his services. I always remembered thinking how cool it would be to be able to trade eggs in for such services. I also remembered how I thought it was strange that the brown eggs were worth more. I longed to go out west somewhere where I could partake in the barter and trade sytsem rather then be subject to capitalist enslavement. I recall being so disappointed and bitter when I found out it was no longer possible and only a hoax.
Well, so long doc, I'll be sure and catch you on the reruns. Doc Baker died at age 77, due to the malaria he caught from the swamps that the Lost Indian Tribe brought him to when they kidnapped him while he was out working in the fields after the volcanic eruption near Mr. Edwards house destroyed all the crops for the year.
Jefferson

P.S. Now if we can just get that little Jezebel Nellie Olson to bite it.