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EleCivil

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Blog Entries posted by EleCivil

  1. EleCivil
    I was walking through a parking lot today, just a few hours after a heavy rain storm. The rain had driven the worms out of the soil and on to the pavement. I see that a lot of them are stranded out in the middle of the lot, stuck on the spots where the puddles had dried out. These worms were a good 30 feet away from the grass, and the clouds were clearing up. I knew that if they didn't get off of the pavement pretty soon, they were going to be fried and dehydrated - I've seen it happen before.
    So, I started picking them up. It was really the least I could do - I'd feel like a prick for the rest of the day if I just left them there to die. After all, if I was crawling naked at the rate of two inches an hour across hot, jagged gravel and blacktop, I'd sure appreciate some help.
    So, there I am, with two big handfuls of worms, when I run into somebody I kind of know. We've never really spoken, but we've seen each other around a few times. He stops, cocks his head at me, and just gives me this weird look. I say hi, and he nods back, and says "What the hell are you doing with all those worms?"
    I shrug and say "Just taking them over there", and nod toward the grass.
    "Why?"
    "'Cause they'll probably like it better over there."
    He gives me a "what the hell?" kind of expression and just walks away, shaking his head. I'm thinking to myself, "Wow, what a weird guy." I told the story to some friends, and they sided with that guy, saying that transporting worms was a pretty weird thing to do.
    Ever have a situation like that? Where you feel like you're doing the most normal thing in the world, but then find out that everyone else thinks you're crazy? Doesn't happen to me very often - usually, I'm well aware that what I'm doing is pretty strange, but this time I was honestly shocked. I was going that way, they were going that way, I had gloves on...so, why wouldn't I? Man, humans are weird sometimes.
    "Listen up, I gotta ask - how can we be so cruel?
    You say you care? That's a lie.
    My true compassion is for all living things, and not just the ones who are cute, so I do what I can.
    I wanna save lives and I've got a plan."


    -"Cats and Dogs" by Gorilla Biscuits


  2. EleCivil

    New job!

    By EleCivil,

    I got a new job today. For those counting, that makes three.
    It's closer to two-and-a-half, really. I've been working in my college's computer lab, helping people with software, checking out resources, scheduling meetings with tutors, etc.
    Today, someone came in looking for a tutor in Critical Thinking/Logic. I looked it up in our system, and saw that we didn't have anyone who could tutor in that subject. I talked to one of the senior staff members, who told me that they can never find anyone to tutor Critical Thinking, because in order to tutor a subject, you have to get an A in the class, and none of their trained tutors have done that. I said something like "Man, too bad I'm not a tutor. That was my favorite class."
    She does a double-take and says "Did...did you get an A in it?" I nodded. She says "Please tell me you want to be a tutor."
    "Do tutors get paid more than me?"
    "Yes."
    "Then I'll be a tutor!"
    So now I'm tutoring for the philosophy department. Pretty sweet. Soon, I'll be rakin' in that big-time tutor cash.
    "Fuelling the flames of the fire to torch the tools of my trade
    With countless paperback revolutions spouting words that I will never say."


    -"The Fuckest Uppest" by The John Ritter Wrestling Squad


  3. EleCivil

    Fate

    By EleCivil,

    For the past week, I've been standing on one foot quite a bit. Basically, cutting down on foot usage by 50%, not by walking less, but by only using one at a time. I had no idea why that was until today.
    I'll start at the beginning, I suppose, because no matter how stylish stories that start at the end may be, a bit of sequence now and then can be refreshing.
    I tend to not cash my checks right away when I get them. I usually wait until I actually need money for something before going to the bank. Well, I've been able to stretch a check pretty far in the past, but the past few weeks has been a new record. I had, in my back-log, two checks from each of my two jobs as well as a state tax return check.
    I checked the fridge earlier today and noticed that the only edible items in the house were as follows:
    -A half-gone carton of soy milk (which, according to another article posted on this site, is apparently turning me even gayer)
    -A can of Pepsi whose label indicates that it would be best to drink it before June of 2001 (I'm holding on to it in case I ever find a time machine. I don't like Pepsi, but I'd drink it anyway, for the sake of science.)
    -A tub of whey protein powder
    And, finally,
    -A single slice of bread
    I was faced with a tough decision - spend the first official day of spring break doing much-needed grocery shopping, or see if I could survive for a day on some kind of whey-and-mustard mixture spread on a piece of toast. Not putting that much faith in my culinary skills, I went shopping.
    On the way back, I noticed a sign for a yard sale. Not usually my thing, but a friend recently told me how he found an old Sega Master System at a yard sale for cheap, so I thought, hey, I'll give it a shot.
    That's where I found it - a beautiful old skateboard, covered in scratches, but shined up really nice. I haven't been on a skateboard since middle school; haven't even thought about taking up skating again, but this board caught my eye. That's when I realized why I had spent the past week standing on one foot: Balance. I'd re-taught myself to balance, without even thinking about it. It was fate. Everything fell into place perfectly to put me and this skateboard at the same place at the same time - spring break, the yard sale, running out of food, having a big enough backlog of checks that I had some spare cash to spend...it all came together.
    It all came flooding back - the hours I'd spent in the summer of 6th grade, skating around the neighborhood. Getting my neighbor to beg his parents for a board so that we could go together. And of course, my proudest hour - beating one of the high-schoolers at a game of Chicken. He made the mistake of actually caring about his/my wellbeing...I, on the other hand, closed my eyes and launched myself at top speed, shouting "Sic semper tyrannis!" (yes, I was weird when I was 11, too).
    I'm so excited! If only I didn't have to leave for work in a couple minutes...but I've got the rest of the week to play around on this thing before school starts again.
    Hi-ho!
    "After weeks of winter that just wouldn't quit, and the headlines remind me the world's gone to shit, I ride my skate to the park, because sometimes that's all that someone can do. And I try not to think that it's only fashion or that the teenage boys are patriarchy in action, 'cause it's Saturday morning with my friends and we're fuckin' thrashin'! And this feels better...better than it has in weeks."


    -"This Feels Better" by Defiance, Ohio


  4. EleCivil

    Some stuff.

    By EleCivil,

    So, a few posts ago, I mentioned how I wasn't looking forward to dressing professionally to student-teach next week. After thinking about it a bit more, I realized that I've never dressed professionally for anything in my life. Like, I don't even know how it's done. I understand the basics - pants + shirt + shoes + socks - but that's it. I don't know how to match stuff or co-ordinate colors (only that, maybe, by doing the exact opposite of what I've been doing, I might accidentally do it). And, above all else, I didn't OWN any professional clothes.
    As a kid, my clothing consisted of hand-me-downs from cousins, charity-box donations, and free event t-shirts (Fifth-Third Bank Presents...4th of July Cash-Stravaganza!). From high school on, my wardrobe has consisted of a couple pairs of jeans, one hoodie, and about ten plain, black t-shirts.
    So, today, for the first time in my life, I went to an actual clothing store. I felt a bit sick at first - selling out tends to do that (To quote The Simpsons, "I feel like punching myself.") - but then I noticed something. The guys kept hitting on me. That's why I've never seen that many gay dudes in Ohio - they were all hanging out in the clothing stores! I guess I missed a memo or something. But thanks to their help, I learned how to throw together a few cheap, decent-looking clothes that'll get me through a week of pretending to be one of those...what-do-you-call-'em...mature adults.
    Also, a friend of mine offered to give me ten thousand dollars if I agreed to get a Tupac-style "Thug Life" tattoo. I turned him down, and he changed the offer - five thousand to get a decidedly non-Tupac-style "Teacher Life" tattoo in the same place. Once again, turned down (though it killed me to do so, because I find the idea quite amusing). I made a deal with myself long ago that I'd never get a tattoo, because I know I'm waaaay too impulsive to be doing anything that has permanent effects.
    "And if you're slow on the uptake, I'll lay it out:
    Hipsterism is a religion to which you gotta be devout.
    You must be seen as in between unpopular and hated
    Or else get excommunicated."


    -"Indier than Thou" by MC Front-a-lot


  5. EleCivil

    Sergio the Pope

    By EleCivil,

    I was digging through some stuff the other day and I came across a notebook from my sophomore year in high school. It contained a play that I wrote for Drama class, which was banned from being performed because...well, it's excessively violent, sacrilegious, and it didn't have enough parts for the whole class. But, hey, if you're interested in seeing some of my earliest recorded work, read on. Reproduced for the first time since 10th grade...

    Sergio the Pope


    ::The Pope's office. The Pope is getting ready to give a speech. Bill, the Pope's assistant, is assisting.::
    Pope: Is my hat on straight, Bill? I've got to look my best for this. Today is the day that I finally announce the big news: that I am, in fact, Catholic.
    Bill: Thereby making that sarcastic expression about the topic much more valid.
    Pope: Exactly. Now, I-
    ::The Pope gasps for air, clutches his chest, and falls over.::
    Bill: Good Lord! He's dead! No...this can't happen. If people found out, the ensuing power struggle would lead to a bloodbath!
    ::Bill conceals the Pope's body under a pile of leaves.::
    Bill: There. Now that he's camouflaged, all we need is a replacement Pope.
    ::Enter Serio, sneaking by with a loot bag over his shoulder, his back to Bill. Bill taps him on the shoulder, causing him to jump and drop the bag. Expensive looking things spill out.::
    Bill: Who the hell are you? What are you doing in the Vatican?
    Sergio: Blast! Captured! How could I, Sergio, King of all Pirates, get spotted by a lowly assistant! My reputation is ruined!
    Bill: Hmm...pirate king, you say? So you're used to giving speeches to the other pirates, right?
    Sergio: Well, I do perform some stand-up comedy at the annual pirate convention in Texas.
    Bill: Good enough. I've got a proposition for you...your holiness.
    Sergio: My...holiness?
    Bill: I want you to take the place of the Pope. In return, I won't turn you in, and you'll get to maintain your reputation as pirate king.
    Sergio: But I can't be the Pope! I slept through Latin!
    Bill: Just fake it!
    Sergio: Isn't lying a sin?
    Bill: What's it matter to you? You're going to hell, anyway.
    Sergio: Fair enough. I'll do it!
    ::Curtain closes - opens on The Pope waking up in his office and turning on the TV.::
    Reporter: On the lighter side of the news, The Pope will be performing his now famous stand-up routine a this years Pirate Convention in Texas. The Pope, seen here swinging in on a chandalier with a cutlass between his teeth, is said to have some all new material in addition to his crowd favorite "What's the deal with Archbishops?" set.
    ::The Pope turns off the TV::
    Pope: An impostor! I'd recognized that Pope anywhere. My old nemesis from my days in the Spanish Fleet...Sergio! 'What's the deal with archbishops,' indeed. I'll show him what the deal is!
    ::Bill and Sergio enter. The Pope hides behind a chair.::
    Bill: So, after the "You might be a Catholic if..." bit, you should probably throw in something like "And by the way, I really am the Pope. I'm definitely not some sort of pirate royalty."
    Sergio: But, I am pirate royal- Ohhh...right. To give me some more credibility. I get it.
    Bill: Exactly. Ah, here it is.
    ::Bill picks up the Pope cane and hands it to Sergio. They walk offstage.::
    ::Curtain closes - opens backstage at PirateCon.::
    Bill: Okay, your holiness. This is your time to shine. Show everyone that you're not only the Pope, but that you're the funniest Pope since Pope Cosby the 14th.
    ::The Pope bursts in::
    Pope: Sergio!
    Sergio: ::gasps:: Captain Victor Raftsbane, pirate of the Blackest Flag!
    Pope: Um, no. I'm Pope Mathew Mark Luke the 4th. Or as you may remember me, Admiral Mathew Mark Luke of the Spanish Fleet!
    Sergio: Doesn't ring a bell.
    Bill: It's the Pope, you idiot! The real Pope!
    ::Bill shoves Sergio out of the way.::
    Bill: Your Holiness! Thank the Lord, you've come back! Now you can replace this fake Pope and things will be set right!
    Sergio: Hold it! I have no intention of being replaced! I'll have you know that I enjoy being Pope. I get my dry cleaning done for free, people kneel when I enter rooms, and I can have any woman I desire!
    Bill: Um...about that...
    Pope: Forget it, Sergio! Now that I'm back, it's simply a matter of exposing you to the public.
    Sergio: You can't expose me if you're dead! The truth shall never leave this room!
    ::Sergio draws his cutlass::
    Pope: We both knew it would come to this! On your guard!
    ::The Pope draws a sword, previously concealed under his robes. Bill hides under a chair.::
    Pope: Come on, big man! Pirate King!
    Sergio: Arrr! You'll be adorning me blade by the end of the night!
    ::The two begin sword fight - choreograph fight based on actor's physical abilities::
    Pope: Who's your holy father? Who's your holy father?
    Sergio: I am Sergio...THE POPE!
    ::Sergio charges, but the Pope parries and runs him through.::
    Pope: HAHA! I did it! I beat the Pirate King! I am the greatest Pope of all time!
    ::The Pope clutches his chest and falls to his knees, gasping for air.::
    Pope: ...I suppose I should have gone to see a doctor after that first heart attack...instead of...swashbuckling...
    ::The Pope falls over, dead. Bill stands up.::
    Bill: Oh no! Now we don't have ANY Popes! And he's supposed to go on any minute! Where am I going to find another Pope on such short notice!
    ::A 70's-era pimp struts by, spinning his cane::
    Bill: Good enough. Excuse me, sir! What's your name?
    Pimp: Why, I'm Pimp Daddy McGoose, greatest pimp in all of Texas!
    Bill: How would you like to be the Pope?
    ::Bill offers the pimp the pope hat and cane. The pimp drops his own hat and cane and accepts them, then struts in front of a mirror to admire his new gear.::
    Pimp: I can dig it.
    ::Curtain closes::

    The End


  6. EleCivil

    Brokenhearted.

    By EleCivil,

    Just got back from the doctor. Turns out I'm having some heart arrhythmia, and they can't figure out why. I'm due for an EKG on Wednesday.
    The last couple days, I've had to pop some aspirins to stop the chest pain it's been giving me. Those things thinned out my blood, so I can't stop bleeding from where I nicked myself shaving (and from the hole they punched through my arm to give me the ol' Transylvania treatment) . Now I'm covered in band-aids - it looks like I lost a Camp Sissyboy Slap-n-Scratch Fight ™.
    So, what's the deal? I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't eat meat, I work out regularly...why's my heart feel like it's gonna explode outta my chest, Alien-style?
    ...OF COURSE!
    That's it. It's an alien. Obviously, a hostile life form has chosen my chest as a place to cocoon itself while it matures from its pupal stage to its adult form, upon which time it will burst out, grab a top hat and cane, and sing "Hello, My Baby".
    I seem to have nothing but trouble with extraterrestrials. It's always "chest-bursting" this, or "death ray" that, or "To Serve Man...it's a cookbook!". Never met one who just wants me to draw a picture of a sheep (or a python digesting an elephant). Lame.
  7. EleCivil
    So, I noticed that we're getting a Wal-Mart installed pretty much in my old back yard. The problem? Well, besides the death of every small business in the area, it's what they're tearing down to build on: the horse racing track.
    I'm not one to bet on the horses, but when I was a kid (elementary/middle school), I was there all the time. Not because I was into horses or anything, but because, as an enterprising trailor kid, I knew that the race track was the best place to panhandle. I didn't want to get into drugs - the main industry for kids in my area - but I had to get some cash somewhere, or I'd be stuck wearing the same two hand-me-down dress pants and free event t-shirts from years before.
    Now that I'm old enough to have a job (or two), I don't need to panhandle any more, but still...think of the children! With their parents all working for peanuts at the new Wal-Mart, they'll need that supplimental income more than ever. Baaah...
    But enough about those corporate mobsters. Happy new year!
    I just got off of work and emptied all the rainwater from my pockets, then went to toast the new year with my family (sipping chocolate milk from a wine glass, 'cause I'm classy like that).
    Now it's off to solitude, where I can strip down and greet 2007 unfettered by the trappings of '06, and perhaps a bit of nude howling at the moon, because, once again, I'm classy like that.
    aaaAAAAAAAooooOOOOOooooOOOOOO....
    "I think about this world and all of it's deadly beasts,
    And they stand no chance against me!
    You see, I believe in love, and I'm sorry if you can't.
    Maybe someday you'll see, when I've killed every evil thing,
    Maybe you'll believe in me!"


    -"I Will Rip Their Jaws Apart" by Captain Chaos


  8. EleCivil
    I passed student-teaching with an A, and I'll be getting my degree on Saturday.
    My students wrote me goodbye letters on my last day. Some of my favorite lines include...
    "Mr. EC the he has a cool hat." [sic]
    "The best thing Mr. EC did was freestyle rap with [X] in the computer lab, then drop his pencil on the floor like it was a mic."
    "I thought Mr. EC was really weird at first." [i find this one funny because I thought I was really weird the whole time.]
    "Mr. EC needs to keep being a straight-up G."
    "Mr. EC needs to come teach at the high school next year so I can have him again."
    "Mr. EC looks like the Hitman [see below], and that game is awesome."
    One student included a drawing of the ninja turtles, in which he misspelled both "Ninja" and "Turtles". But that's okay - I only had that student for science, not language arts.

    Pictured: Mr. EC prepares to serve as detention monitor.


    ---
    I went to the awards ceremony for my graduating class. No one told me that it was supposed to be a formal affair, so I came dressed to my usual slacker standard (purple and black checkered t-shirt with a large skull on one side, slightly frayed and baggy black pants, a black fedora cocked jauntily to one side, and my trademark macaroni necklace). Once I'm inside, I notice that every other guy in the room is wearing a suit, or at least a collared shirt and a tie. Heh. Oops. It reminds me of my freshman year, when I came to the invocation (presented, unbeknownst to me, by the Mayor) dressed in a similar way. The difference? This time, I was wearing my noodle necklace with confidence.
    At one point, the president of the student body came by to say hi, and did a kind of double-take. He asks "Why didn't you dress up?"
    I shrug, look around, and say, "Hey, this is how I always look. Why'd everybody else feel the need to change?"
    He opens his mouth, pauses, shakes his head, and mutters "I wish I was as cool as you, Civil," before walking back to his seat. I'm positive he was being sarcastic, but the whole interaction still made me laugh.
    Anyway, awards-wise, it turns out I'm going to graduate Magna Cum Laude (which probably isn't half as fun as it sounds). It was funny to see the reactions in the crowd when I went to get my honors tassel and they were all looking at each other as if to say, "Wait, the dude with the pasta necklace? Really?"
    The Curse of Greyface in action, ladies and gents. Ain't it sad?
    Now, on to looking for a job! When I find out what state I'm moving to, I'll let you know.
    ---
    "We are a new faith,
    We are a new face,
    We are everything
    In this world that personifies change."


    "A Necessary Change" by Trunks and Tales


  9. EleCivil

    Yarrrr.

    By EleCivil,

    I found out that my co-workers, boss, and supervisor have been using a nickname for me: "Mr. USA". The USA stands for "Undercover Smart-Ass". One of my co-workers explained it to me like this: "People always say, 'Oh, Civil's so quiet and shy', and I'm like, 'Wow, you've obviously never worked with him.' And I've got to explain, like, 'He's not being quiet, he's got comedic timing, and he's waiting for a set-up.' But that takes a while, so now we just say you're an Undercover Smart-Ass."
    She's right, so I can't complain. The only thing is, instead of just laughing, now they start a "U-S-A! U-S-A!" chant whenever I say something...er, smart-ass-ish. Ah well. Can't complain about a chant.
    Speaking of chanting, thanks to an assignment from a rather non-traditional instructor, I've got to write a rap song about educational philosophy. I'm thinking something along the lines of "Bloom's Raponomy" or "MC Vygotsky's Breakbeats of Proximal Development". Any freelance DJs in the house?
    "Maybe the times we had, they weren't that bad
    And everything else was part of our path
    We sang: "I don't know where we go from here"
    This is the anthem, the slogan, the summary of events
    And we all just idealize the past."


    "Somewhere in the Between" by Streetlight Manifesto


  10. EleCivil

    One Week

    By EleCivil,

    Things I learned from one week of student teaching in a 5th grade classroom:
    1 - Very few guys are involved in schools at the lower-middle level.
    There wasn't even a men's restroom in the building - the only other males in the building were the gym teacher and the principal. This means that for the students who have been in that building for the whole of their schooling, I was the first male classroom teacher they ever had.
    2 - While some schools are under-funded, others have way more money than they know what to do with.
    I ended up teaching in a rich suburban school district, quite different from my own. There were SmartBoards, really nice computers, scanners, and printers in every room. They had better technology than my college's computer lab.
    3 - Elementary school teachers are the most stereotypically wholesome people in the world.
    Eating lunch in the teacher's lounge means that I got to hear all about their home lives. Talk of little league games and marching bands and homecoming and church youth groups and cheerleading and all of those non-threatening school-and-church-sanctioned events that I avoided like the plague when I was in school. So not only am I completely alone in being (1) male, (2) single, and (3) childless, but I come from a radically different subculture. Don't get me wrong, they're nice, but it's just...tough to talk to them when we have no common interests outside of teaching.
    4 - Teaching is exhausting.
    This surprised me. A day of teaching leaves me more tired than a day at the gym. Now I know why all the other people in the teachers' lounge seem to be addicted to coffee. Of course, a lot of this probably has to do with waking up early combined with staying up late to write lesson plans (that, and I tend to go into high-energy, adrenaline-rush mode when teaching)
    5 - Teaching changes the way you think about things.
    Just a week, and I'm already looking at things differently. I see an empty egg carton and think "Hey, I bet could make something out of one of these." I listen to a new song and think "I could use this to teach about figurative language." I see a kid causing trouble in a store and actually start putting on my "Teacherly Disapproval Face" before I remember where I am, and that I've got no authority there.
    6 - You can tell a lot more from grading papers than whether or not they're getting the answers right.
    One kid would get all of his answers wrong, but have huge paragraphs of text - complex, perfect sentences - completely unrelated to the homework written on the back. One had horrible handwriting and was in special classes for help with reading, but if you flipped his papers over, you could see the big, detailed drawings that he'd done. He would get in trouble for "wasting staples" by using fifteen or twenty of them just to fasten his homework pages together...but if you flipped the paper over, you could see that the bent-over sides of the staples formed an intricate pattern on the back of the page. One girl never turns in her individual homework assignments, but if she's in a group with others, that group always finishes first and turns in the best work, because she knows how to organize a team.
    This is stuff that I learned on the first day, just by grading a few different papers. Later, I talked to these kids and confirmed it. The writer loved Eragon, and wanted to be the next Christopher Po-whats-his-name. The artist took me into the hall and showed me some of his work that was on display - sculptures and a near-perfect colored pencil reproduction of a Van Gogh painting. Apparently, he likes to sneak into the art teacher's room during recess to see if she has any extra projects for him. The leader? She was in charge of the student government, crossing guards, and a half-dozen other team activities after school that took up all of her time for homework.
    The back of the page is worth a lot more than the front.
    7 - Make sure you're wearing an ID around your neck when doing a restroom escort.
    One of the other teachers walks by and sees me - a guy, who is definitely not one of the two guys who work in the building - standing outside of the restrooms. She pauses, says "...Waiting for the girls to come out of the restroom?" I shrug and say "A couple girls, a couple guys. Just going to take 'em back with me." Words cannot describe the look she gave me. That's when I remembered that I left my ID in my pocket, and quickly pulled it out and dropped it around my neck. She exhales deeply and walks away, muttering to herself. Awwwwkward.
  11. EleCivil

    Six Months

    By EleCivil,

    The oncologist says that my dad has six months (maximum) to live.
    People have been coming over to visit. My grandma, my cousin, old family friends who we haven't seen in years. It's weird - the last time I saw my cousin was about ten years ago, when HER dad (my uncle) died of lung disease. And before that? A funeral for another distant relative. It's like we only see each other when someone is dead or dying. She's cool, though. She's from this tiny town, so she's amazed by the "big city" things like traffic lights (they only have a couple stop signs where she's from) and people who don't match their shoes (okay, so that was just me) and the fact that she can't find a country music station on the radio (ah, Lawd). At one point, she asks what we city people do for fun. My mom and I look at each other, shrug, turn back to her and say "We read books." She looks disappointed, like she was expecting us to say "Wild meth-fueled orgies."
    Anyway, it's finals week. I just got done taking my Bio final - no sweat, there. Just four more days 'til freedom.
  12. EleCivil

    Nostalgia

    By EleCivil,

    My schedule has been INSANE for the past couple weeks. It goes like this:
    Wake up at 5:00 am. Shower, shave, breakfast, etc. - the whole morning routine.
    Leave home at 7:00 am. Drive for a solid hour to an out-of-district middle school.
    Teach 7th graders about physical science until 3:30.
    Drive an hour and a half to college.
    Sit in class until 10:00 pm.
    Drive an hour to get back home.
    Write lesson plans and do homework for the next two hours.
    Wake up at 5:00 am and repeat.
    Teaching is fun as hell, but Matt Lauer, I'm exhausted. I find myself looking forward to weekends, when all I have to do is work an eight hour shift. But still, I'm glad I'm doing it, 'cause once I'm done...I'm going to feel like I can do anything. I mean, damn, if these 20-hour days don't finish me off, nothing will.
    Speaking of middle school, I was walking down the hall on my way out when I had an interesting encounter. First, let me set the scene: I'm wearing all black, since that's the only "professional" look I can pull off - black pants, black belt, black shoes, black dress shirt, long black overcoat, black boxers (though nobody knew about those but me), one black sock (the other was gray), and a black knit cap full of one-inch punk pins. I've also got a black backpack over my shoulder, which has a small, rubber Krusty the Clown keychain hanging from the back. From behind me, I hear someone shout "Hey!"
    I turn around to see a kid in one of the school's football jerseys looking back at me. He's got this cocky look on his face. I recognized that look immediately - that was the universal adolescent "I'm gonna start some shit!" look. Almost immediately, however, his face fell. He noticed the staff ID that I had clipped to my shirt. I had to refrain from laughing out loud and keep my professional face on.
    "What's up?" I ask.
    "Uh...sorry...I, uh...I thought you were, like, a tall goth kid."
    Whoa. Where the hell do I start? With the fact that he mistook me for a tall 14 year old (WHAT!?), the fact that he mistook me for a goth (No offense, but goth music sucks ), or the fact that this cocky little dude was about to start something, not only on school grounds, but with someone more than a foot taller than himself (I could have totally taken that 8th grader).
    Before I can say anything, he takes off.
    That was the first time I've been (almost) hassled by a middle school jock because of the way I dress since I was in middle school. Maaan, that takes me back.
    "Class traitor? What-fucking-ever!
    I'm just another middle class kid, too.
    But if I'm not good at changing, I'm good at self-loathing,
    So I'll class-hate myself with you."


    -"New Mexico Song" by Johnny Hobo and the Freight Trains


  13. EleCivil
    The other day at work, my favorite customer came in. She's incredibly sarcastic and candid. Most people who work there get offended by her, but myself and a couple others think she's the best. She was arguing with my supervisor and one of the other work-studies. I was hanging around reading poetry (Maya Angelou, specifically) when she looks over at me and says "Why do you guys even keep him around? What good is he?"
    The other work study says, "Well...he doesn't do much, but he's fun to look at."
    My supervisor nods. "Yeah. Eye candy."
    At this point, I'm blushing like crazy, so I'm glad when I notice one of the students is looking for assistance, beckoning me over with her finger. I get up, and our favorite customer says (loudly enough for almost everybody to hear) "Oh, look, she's making him come with just one finger. That's impressive." Heh...best customer ever.
    I called off sick from work to go to a show last night. David Dondero, Matt & Kim, and Against Me! were playing five minutes from my house - I would have felt horrible sitting at work while that was going on. It was great.
    Dondero opened. He plays bluesy folk, but he always seems to open for punk shows. I used one of his songs while student-teaching to teach kids about figurative language, so it was cool to see him live. He played a cover of Jawbreaker's classic song, "Boxcar".
    Matt & Kim were a lot better than I thought they would be. They play dancey, cuddlecore-ish music with a keyboard and drums. I didn't like them very much when I heard their CD, but their live show is MUCH better. I was expecting it to be pretty tame, but they actually got a pretty good mosh pit going. I got a busted lip during "Yea Yeah" and a cut across an eyebrow during "Lightspeed", which was cool, because I got to show off my battlescars and blood trails for the rest of the night.
    Matt mentioned that it was their first time in our city, and that we made a good impression on him because of what he described as a "Strip-fooseball game" going on in the back of the club. He said something along the lines of "There's this totally ripped guy back there playing fooseball with his clothes off. Maybe you get really sweaty playing fooseball. I don't know, I'm not a pro. I'd get in on that, but you don't want to see any of this. Kim's been trying to get me to do some push-ups, so that I can...look like a man." Later on, he and some random dude from the audience had a stripping contest on stage.
    Against Me! was great. They played six or seven songs from their new CD, and a bunch from their older ones. They came back for two encores, playing "Impact" and, on request from the audience, "Baby, I'm an Anarchist" (which is one of their best songs, ever).
    About halfway through Matt and Kim's set, it started raining. There was a leak in the roof right above the pit, so there were a couple streams of water falling right on us. The boring people were fighting to get away, while the fun people were fighting to get under there and splash the boring people. I was in the pit all night (~4 hours), so I came out soaked in sweat (not all of it mine) and rainwater.
    If this show comes to your town, you should go. It's incredible.
    "'Cause baby, I'm an anarchist, you're a spineless liberal.
    We marched together for the eight-hour day and held hands in the streets of Seattle,
    But when it came time to throw bricks through that Starbucks window,
    You left me all alone..."


    -"Baby, I'm an Anarchist" by Against Me!


  14. EleCivil
    Test results, today. Bad news - I'm gonna keep on tickin', so it looks like I'll have to actually do that pile of homework that's been building up next to...that other pile of homework that's been building up.
    The doc says I'm good. Apparently, the chest pain was left over inflammation from that case of e-Syph...er, strep, that I'd had earlier. The arrhythmia is harmless. All it does is make my pulse speed up and slow down a little at random intervals, rather than holding a steady beat.
    That's right. My heart's a nonconformist. It pulsates to the beat of it's own...um, beat.
    ...Should have seen that one coming, actually.
    "A rebel's embrace shall give us a taste
    Of truth that is masked by a sly poker face.
    A spirit is well and alive...
    Live and we will survive."


    "A Rebel's Romance" by Mischief Brew


  15. EleCivil
    First, I've got running water. That may not sound like much, but I've been without running water for the last week. No toilets, no sinks, no showers. It smelled like a locker room, since nobody could bathe or shave or do laundry. I showered at the gym, and eventually I got sick of my half-assed beard and shaved in a nearby creek in the woods (I never felt more like Thoreau). But now I can shower at home again! And drink water! God, I missed drinking water!
    Second, I'm back in school. Turns out my adviser scheduled me for two classes at the same time, and didn't even think to give me a time-turner. Plus, on my schedule, it says that one of those classes takes place in a building that does not yet exist. I guess I'll go stand in the big field that's marked off for the construction of said building and see if anyone else shows up. It is an ecology class, after all - maybe it's outside.
    Third, I got into another Educational Methods class, which means more student-teaching. A full month, this time. You know what that means? More "professional attire". Ugh. I hate clothes shopping, because there's no section for me. I'm too old for the "Boys" section, too immature for the "Mens" section. They need to put in a "Dudes" section. Clothes for dudes. Dudes like me. Because for now, I have to buy regular professional clothes and just stick in a few safety pins for added flavor.
    Fourth, a friend of mine got into a really bad car accident. Like, his car was in two halves. Everybody was okay, for the most part. He looked really bad - he had a cut on his ear, which dripped all the way down his throat, making it look like his throat was slit. He decided to not wash it off and sleep on the kitchen floor that night to scare the hell out of his roommate. Heh. It happened just before midnight, on the night before his 21st birthday. So, much like his 1st birthday, he spent the first few minutes of it screaming and covered in blood. He didn't appreciate it when I pointed that out - not because he'd just been through a bad accident, but because it reminded him that he was celebrating the anniversary of sliding from his mother's gooey birth canal, and he didn't really want that image in his head before he fell asleep. Luckily for him, he had just turned twenty-one - old enough to drink, and thus wipe it from his memory.
    Last...the other day, there was a huge thunderstorm right when I got off work. As I'm leaving, my boss walks up and tells me to be careful on the drive home. I nod to her and say that I will, and she grabs my hands, looks into my eyes, and in the most serious voice I've heard, whispers "You come back to me, Civil. You come back to me." Now, she's always talking about how much she loves her employees, but I'm pretty sure that I've now seen my boss's pre-makeout face. And that's just weird.
    "He's at the show, talkin' feminism to get inside your pants,
    Oh yeah, he'll quote Emma Goldman, but he'll never get up to dance!"


    -"Stop Being So Cool and Get Silly" by Wingnut Dishwashers' Union


  16. EleCivil

    Stages of Development

    By EleCivil,

    So, the other week, I called off work to take a six hour long standardized test. Three hours of Science, three hours of Pedagogical Theory. Fun. And I get to do it again for Language Arts in November.
    Here's the part that really sucks: I've been asked to play some classical guitar for my college's annual Arts Festival. However, since I'm taking all this time off of work to take these tests, I can't get off of work to go perform. Sonuvawench, right? Well, whatever. They told me I could come play next year as an alumnus.
    Oh, speaking of performances, I got to play the part of "Handsome Young Lover" in a one-act adaptation of "The Lady or the Tiger" performed for some middle school kids. That's right - I had to pretend to be lusting after not just one, but TWO girls. Heh. It was fun. I don't get into the drama stuff that often, but I don't mind hammin' it up on stage every now and then.
    In other news, I'm writing again. This time, however, I'm going to wait until I've got a fairly large chunk written before I start releasing chapters. My goal is to have a regular release schedule with this next one, rather than my old "Two chapters in a row, then four months of nothing, then another chapter, then two months of nothing, etc." schedule.
    SO! It'll be a while, but it's coming.
    "And as the spotlights fade away,
    And you're escorted through the foyer,
    You will resume your callow ways,
    But I was meant for the stage."


    "I Was Meant for the Stage" by The Decemberists


  17. EleCivil
    Wow, it's been a while since I've written anything in here, huh?
    Well, I've got a fairly good excuse, this time - with my commute added in, I'm working about 13 hours every day. For no money. In fact, I'm paying about 10k for the privilege of working 13 hour days. That's right - I'm student-teaching.
    I've already finished up with my stint as a language arts teacher. Right now, I'm teaching science. Starting on Monday, I'll be teaching not only general science, but for one hour a day I'll be teaching forensic science - crime scene investigation stuff, like DNA fingerprinting, blood spatter analysis, and fingerprint lifting. This means that I get to stage crime scenes around the school, drawing chalk outlines and leaving bloody footprints and such. Fun, but it doubles my workload. I'm looking at 14-15 hour days, now. My 8 hour shifts on the weekends are like a vacation. I'm pretty much a coffee-fueled zombie.
    For more of my wacky, school-related adventures, check out the thread "8th grade is more exciting the second time." at Codey's World.
    ---
    A pothole ate one of my tires, the other day. Actually, not just the tire - the entire wheel was mashed to oblivion. I couldn't even change it - I had to call AAA, who actually had to chip away the old wheel with a chisel. The pothole had to have been at least five inches deep, and it stretched across an entire lane of a two-lane road - there was no way to avoid it. AAA had had so much business because of that pothole that they had a guy stationed there, so it didn't take much time. The mechanic suggested that I send the wheel to the city, so that maybe they'll get to work on that ridiculous pothole.
    ---
    True telephone conversation:
    EC: What are you doing?
    Friend: Drinking coffee, listening to techno, working. You?
    EC: Same, except replace "techno" with "NPR."
    Friend: ...
    EC: I mean, "punk." I'm listening to punk! Uh, hooray for anarchy. I'm definitely not listening to Garrison Keillor talk about Lake Wobegon, right now.
    Friend: See, this is why I can never tell when you're being sarcastic.
    "If ever I would stop thinking about music and politics
    I would tell you that sometimes it?s easier to desire
    and pursue the attention and admiration of 100 strangers
    than it is to accept the love and loyalty
    of those closest to me."


    "Music and Politics" by The Disposable Heroes of Hiphopricy


  18. EleCivil

    Awkwardness

    By EleCivil,

    Today, I was studying for a final and putting together a professional development portfolio. At the same time, I was doing laundry. I'm a laundry procrastinator - I wait until ALL of my clothes are dirty before washing. The problem being, I've got no clothes to wear while the rest are in the wash.
    So, I'm working frantically, pulling papers from all over to put this portfolio together, all the while trying to weigh them down so that the fan doesn't blow them away, because it's 90 degrees inside the house and we've got no air conditioning. I'm wearing a pair of purple boxers and my bones shirt - a black shirt with a glow-in-the-dark ribcage on it that I used for part of a Halloween costume back in 3rd grade - when I hear a knock at the door.
    I'm thinking of just ducking under the window and pretending I'm not home, but then I remember that I was supposed to sign for some deliveries, and that might be them.
    I open up the door, and it's my former roommate. He looks me up and down, says "Huh," and shrugs.
    I say, "Man, I'm glad it's you, or this could've been awkward."
    He shakes his head. "No, no, it's plenty awkward on this end."
    "We lived together for a year and a half. How are you not used to this?"
    "It's not the boxers. It's the purple."
    "Really?"
    "The purple...I keep seeing it out of the corner of my eye, and, I don't know, my brain says 'Hey, purple? What's that?' and then my eyes are like 'Oh, we'd better check it out!' and then I'm thinking 'No, no, don't look at his crotch,' but by then it's too late!"
    "...Well, now you've gone and made it awkward."
    "I try."
    "He was the roommate from hell! His name was Lucifer.
    Someone call the priest, bring the crucifer.
    He was the roommate from hell! Leaves his pitchfork in my bed.
    I'm in a Satanic panic 'cause he is messin' with my head!"


    -"Roommate from Hell" by MC Lars (ft. MC Chris)


  19. EleCivil

    Inappropriate nuns.

    By EleCivil,

    As I mentioned earlier, I go to a Catholic college (even though I'm not Catholic), so some of my classes are taught by nuns. In a previous post, I mentioned how one of these Sisters was, in class, talking about male pinecones going limp while female pinecones can last forever. Well, I've got her again this semester, and she's added a new phrase to her lexicon: "Blow/shoot my wad". I kid you not.
    Now, I understand that it can be used in a non-sexual way, but COME ON. When talking about why she always takes a fifteen minute break between her Anatomy class and her Educational Methods class, she actually used the phrase "I shot my wad on those pre-nurses, so I need some time to recover."
    The second she said it, the other two guys in class and I all exchanged an awkward, did-she-just-say-that kind of look. Then, later in class, she used the expression again, referring to how she uses her best material in the fall semester, so has to have a bunch of guest speakers and field trips in the spring.
    Later, just to kind of test the waters, one of the other guys used the phrase. Something like "According to this graph, this species was pretty numerous, but now it's extinct. Did it...*nervous pause*...blow its wad...in '85?" She nods and says that that's exactly what happened.
    At this point, the other guy leans over to me and says "You know, this is almost too wrong to be funny. She's...she's like my grandmother. She's like everybody's grandmother. She looks like she should be baking cookies, not...shooting her wad. 'Specially not on pre-nurses."
    At which point I had to fake a cell phone call and step outside to avoid cracking up in front of everybody.
  20. EleCivil
    I got a job. Just in time, too, with less than two weeks before school starts.
    I don't want to give too many details in a public post like this, because I wouldn't want to be recognized (hit me up on AIM or YIM if you're that curious about the details).
    Here's what I can tell you:
    I'm a reading teacher for a mix of elementary and middle school students (that's right - my designation is "EleMiddle." Heh.)
    It's an inner-city school with 99% of the population below the poverty line. Many of the students are homeless, parentless, or penniless.
    It's a very poor school in a very poor area during a recession, so I'll probably be laid off at the end of the school year, regardless of performance.
    The school has no art, music, gym, recess, or extra-curriculars. These were all shut down because of low test scores.
    The school itself is on the verge of being shut down by the government (depending on this year's test scores).
  21. EleCivil

    Octopus Shoes

    By EleCivil,

    I'm very, very close to finishing the next chapter of Laika. I'm going to take my laptop to work today and finish it there (hopefully). I plan to send it in tomorrow.
    I was talking to a friend of mine the other night. He goes to a different school, where he tutors Logic and Western Philosophy. I tutor Logic and Eastern Philosophy. We started talking around midnight and then debated names v. properties for four hours, then passed out on the floor until noon. The highlight reel would include lines like "That lamp is markedly different from Chicago," "Hitler and Ghandi...they were both people, right?", "That object of infinite potential that is currently residing on your foot could, indeed, be called a 'shoe' right now, but if I removed it from your foot and threw it on the ice at a hockey game, it could be called an 'octopus'," and, finally, "FUCK! Descartes only needed to spend ONE PAGE on this, and then he was DONE. That's why Western philosophy makes so much more sense."
    Also, I'm working on a top secret project that I plan to release by the end of summer. No more details, though.
    "With the music execution and the talk of revolution,
    It bleeds in me and it goes...
    Give 'em the boot the roots the radicals!
    Give 'em the boot you know I'm a radical!
    Give 'em the boot the roots the reggae on my stereo..."


    -"Roots Radicals" by Rancid


  22. EleCivil

    Special Edition

    By EleCivil,

    A friend of mine came over late last night to borrow an Xbox controller. He comes into my room and says, in a conspiratorial voice, "You ready to deal?"
    Now, I know that he's referencing the fact that everyone tends to assume that we're drug dealers. This is because we act fairly strangely and both grew up in a neighborhood in which all of our peers became drug dealers/burned out meth-heads/suicides.
    Playing along, I say "Oh, would you like to purchase some drugs? I'm accepting PayPal, now!" That's when I notice that his new girlfriend, who I had yet to meet, was standing in the doorway behind him. Awesome. Now she definitely thinks I'm a dealer.
    He says, "How about a trade? I'll give you this." He hands me a DVD case, while holding back laughter. It takes me a few seconds to recognize that the DVD case has a picture of a rather underdressed woman with a rather oversized penis in her mouth. The title? "Dick Lickers: Blowjob Edition".
    Now, the natural reaction would probably be to either laugh it off or hand it back to him. I did neither. I just stared at the title in wonder.
    "Blowjob Edition", to emphasize the fact that THIS edition of "Dick Lickers" contains oral sex.
    And all I could think was "What's on the NON-'Blowjob Edition' of 'Dick Lickers'? What other editions are there? 'Dick Lickers: Do-It-Yourself Drywall Repair Edition'? Dick Lickers: Global Warming Awareness Edition'? Is it like 'Law and Order', where there's a bunch of different spin-offs all with different characters, or is it a Three Stooges-esque series, in which those wacky Dick Lickers find themselves in zany (sticky?) situations every week?"
    And then I remembered that his girlfriend was standing there, watching me stare, transfixed, at the cover of a porno, no doubt thinking that I'm a sexually repressed drug dealer. I make the best first impressions.
    "You say you don't like the Ramones, but I think we're a lot like the Ramones
    Because we look good together but we can't get along - we're a lot like the Ramones."


    -"...Everything You Hate" by Delay


  23. EleCivil
    Titles don't work when you make as little sense as this.
    As an arachnophobic agoraphobe, my two biggest fears in the world are spiders and humans, but not necessarily in that order. If I had to choose between being locked in a room full of spiders or a room full of people, though, I'd probably take the spiders. After all, not only is it more socially acceptable to kill spiders rather than people, but it's also a lot easier. I suppose it would be possible to kill a person with nothing but my shoe or a rolled-up newspaper, but it would take a lot longer, and the other people in the room would probably stop me before I got even halfway there.
    Which brings me to my job. My company has people working all kinds of places in all kinds of states, ranging from lumber yards in Virginia to skyscrapers full of lawyers in Michigan. After trying out a few different kinds of sites (a convent, a warehouse, a parking lot, an apartment building, etc.) I finally settled on a small trucking company. No people - completely deserted - but tons of spiders. I could deal with that - I just always brought along a copy of Steven King's book "The Tommyknockers". Whenever a spider came close, I'd introduce them to the mainstream horror genre with a mighty King Swing ™. Splattering spiders, I might add, it the best possible use for a copy of "The Tommyknockers" - beats the hell out of reading it.
    I just found out that my small, independent trucking company is being bought out by FedEx National. This means a lot more money for the owners, more work and less money for the drivers, and an end to my "Tons of spiders, but at least there's no people" compromise. Now, there's going to be spiders AND people. Which is almost as bad as working next to Spiderman. Sure, he's good at stopping runaway trains, but come on - a spider, AND a man? Screw you, Stan Lee. It's like you were specifically trying to get to me.
    ---
    The above was just an experiment to see what would happen if I typed for ten minutes without hitting backspace.
    Only two more days until TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY. The greatest holiday in the history of holidays. I've got my pirate suit ready to go.
    Just the other day, my friend's little sister came over, because she wanted to play with my cat. She asked me "Why do you have so many skulls in your room?", referring to all the Jolly Roger flags that I've got hanging. I replied, "I'm a pirate." She gave me this awestruck look and said "Really? You were born a pirate?" I nodded. "Aye. I was flying the black flag way before Johnny Depp made it cool." Then, I switched to a gravely pirate accent and added "I also download music without the consent of the recording industry and completely disregard end-user license agreements, m'lass." She didn't get that part, so I gave her a stick of gum. Arrrrr.

    "We have no nation but the sea, no creed but that we will live free!
    We'll loot and burn all that we can that's run by a dishonest man.
    Their end is near, and there is no denying...when they see the black flag flying!"


    -"Black Flag Flying" by David Rovics


  24. EleCivil
    I just got back from the Spring Ska Show, which was awesome.
    It's interesting how many different types of people will come out for a ska show. There were skinheads, skate-punks, sXe kids, hXc kids, emo kids, hippies, goths, rudies...it was great seeing all the followers of sub-subcultures gathering together. However, that was only on the second floor of the building - the first floor was being used as a hip-hop/electronica club, and there was absolutely no interaction between the two floors.
    The crowd was great. It was big enough to get a good number of people in the pit, but small enough so that you felt like you knew everybody, even if you never said a word to them all night. Everyone stood out from everyone else, so you remembered them all - the dude with the giant mohawk, the dude who kept taking his shirt off, the creepy old guy who only stood on the side taking pictures of the young girls...yeah, the whole gang was there.
    Me? I was dressed like a sXe kid, with X's on the backs of my hands and a plain black shirt covered in one-inch pins (including pins for some sXe bands like Gorilla Biscuits and Minor Threat, as well as one that just said "Kiss me, I'm straight-edge"). This was intentional, because it made everyone do a double-take when I started to skank. Yes, within the straight-edger shell beats the heart of a (gasp) rudie! You don't need checkerboard suspenders and a three-piece suit to do it!
    There were a couple people there who were just cool, made the show better just by being in the crowd. There was a girl in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform with checkerboard socks and two-tone shoes, and an adorable short, stocky guy with a giant blonde afro, and neither of them stopped skanking once. The whole night, even if no one else was moving, they were going. It was inspiring, in an energizer-bunny kind of way.
    Like I said before, I'm not a big fan of skacore, but the vocalist/guitarist for one of the bands (I forget their name, or I'd tell you) earned a spot as best performer of the night, in my book. Their whole set, people were spitting at him and tossing bottles at him, and at one point, the kids in the pit actually grabbed him by his ankles and dragged him off the stage, beating on him, kicking him, spitting on him...but the whole time, he kept singing. That's some dedication, man. I was impressed.
    In the end, I got a copy of Money$hot's CD (only three bucks!) and a checkerboard "ska" one-inch pin to add to the collection.
    My school semester starts next week, as well as my second job and student-teaching. This was likely the last show I'll get to go to until summer...but it was a good one, so I guess I'll make it.
    "Intolerant society rears it's ugly face.
    You're turning your hardcore music into a homophobic disgrace!
    The gay ones, the straight ones, the white, tan, yellow, and black...
    Gay rude boys and girls, we're gonna take that dancehall back,
    We'll take it back!!
    Because without respect, there's gonna be nothing left"


    -"Gay Rude Boys Unite" by Leftover Crack


  25. EleCivil

    Oh yeah!

    By EleCivil,

    If you'll excuse me for a second, I've gotta gloat just a little...
    Studies in Modern World Literature - A
    World Geographical Politics - A
    Philosophy - A
    Science for Educators - A
    Educational Psychology - A
    ...BOOYAH! In your face, last semester! Thought ya had me there at the end, but Civie don't go down that easy! *Pelvic thrust x3*
    All right, done now. Sorry about that, but it's been a while since I've last had reason to shout "Booyah" while thrusting at anything.
    On an unrelated note, Jest told me that he's getting his little sister a CD player for Christmas, and showed me her Christmas list of CDs that she wants. He's trying to nudge her in a good direction as far as taste in music goes, so he had already crossed Nick LaChay and Young Joc off of the list. But the coolest thing was that at the top of her list, her number one choice, was the very first CD I ever bought, back when I was her age - "Black Sails in the Sunset" by AFI. Note, this was back when AFI was still a pretty decent punk band, before they signed to a major label and went all boring and goth-rock-ish. Apparently, she kind of liked their new corporate blood-rock singles, but then she came over and listened to some of my old CDs and said "This is so much better! I can't believe it's the same band!" I don't know why I get such a kick out of knowing that she wants the exact same CD that I did when I was her age, but I know exactly what I'm getting her for Christmas.
    "I may be ten years old but I still know what's up.
    I wear my Cramps shirt almost every single day.
    I want to sag my pants,
    I want to pogo dance,
    but Mom won't let me so I might just run away!"


    -"I Wanna Get a Mohawk (but Mom Won't Let Me Get One)" by AFI


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