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EleCivil

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Blog Entries posted by EleCivil

  1. 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


  2. 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


  3. EleCivil
    I got into a car accident today.
    It's weird the way these things work out. I had just gotten out of class (RST244: Great Religions of the East) and since I'm a bit of a gym rat, I was going to go work out for a while to unwind. But, for some reason, I decided that I'd do my homework first. This is weird, because I never do my homework first, being the self-proclaimed Mayor of Procrastinationville. I take about an hour to do the homework, then get my stuff together and drive off in the direction of the gym.
    I'm going through an intersection when this huge tank of a van (a corporate vehicle for a local catering company) runs a red light and nails my rear passenger-side door. I spin out into the middle of the street - at least one and a half times around, because I ended up facing the way I came. The back window shattered, throwing a bunch of glass up into the front seat with me. I was shocked that no one else got hit, considering the wild, twisting path that I was propelled into taking.
    Anyway, the woman driving the van was really cool about it - she admitted it was completely her fault, and told the police the same thing. Apparently, she was trying to stop, but her foot slipped off the brake and she just barrelled through.
    Insurance is going to cover all of it, and nobody got hurt, but DAMN did I get rammed. Of course, like a good blogger, I got pictures:


    The part that really sucks is that my two all-time favorite CDs were in the CD player at the time, and because of the damage caused by the jolt, they're stuck in there for good. I've got them backed up as .MP3s, and that band gives their songs away for free anyway, and the CDs themselves are only five bucks each, but still...I bought those when I went to see them live. I drove hours to get to that show. It was the best one I've ever seen, and it was actually what inspired me to write Laika. I'm gonna miss those.
    Anyway, I wasn't hurt, she wasn't hurt, so I'm not upset. The insurance guys are being really awesome about it, too. Going to take the car in tomorrow (well...have it towed in, actually - the body of the car is mashed up against the tire, so it won't spin), and walk to work for the next few days. But I've got a coat, so everything's cool.
    The weird thing is, if I had decided to go to the gym right away instead of stopping to do homework first, this wouldn't have happened. This is, possibly, the one day in my entire life that I decided not to procrastinate, and look what happened.
    There you go, guys. The moral of the story is: Put things off until the last minute, or the Giant Catering Van of Death will descend from the sky like a Mothra Faulkner and smash the hell out of your car.
    "Next time I'll try for the first time in my life.
    It won't pass me by. Procrastinate! It can wait!
    I put it off. Let's start today!"


    -"Start Today" by Gorilla Biscuits


    ...y'know, I think that's the third time I've used Gorilla Biscuits lyrics at the end of one of these posts. That puts them in the lead.
  4. 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


  5. EleCivil
    I'm home for Easter. Today, my mom showed me two pictures: one that she'd taken this morning, when she found me asleep in the computer chair, and my school picture from sixth grade - age ten, exactly ten years ago. Interesting.
    It got me thinking about how different I am, now. It's easy to forget about how much you change, since you see it from the inside, as a slow progression. When you look at it in terms of a big gap, like ten years, though...
    Ten years ago, I had long hair. Now it's really short.
    Ten years ago, I pretended to like football because all the kids at school did. Now, I'm fine letting everyone know that I'm weird.
    Ten years ago, I was a fundamentalist Southern Baptist. Now, I'm a non-theist.
    Ten years ago, I knew that I was straight. Now, I know that I'm not.
    Ten years ago, I hated middle school more than anything. Now, I can't wait to get my degree so I can go teach in a middle school.
    Ten years ago, I only listened to the Oldies channel on the radio (everything else was "devil music"). Now, I listen to punk, hardcore, hip-hop, folk, indie, and all kinds of "devil music".
    Ten years ago, I was afraid of the dark. Now, I'm a night person.
    Ten years ago, I had not yet touched a computer, and had no idea what the internet was. Now, I'm a tech geek working in a computer lab.
    Ten years ago, I was rarely allowed to leave my house. Now, I'm barely at home except to sleep.
    Ten years ago, I liked to write stories in my free time. Now...well, not everything changes.
    Ten years ago:

    This morning:

    And now, I wonder - ten years from today, will there be nearly as many changes? Any that are as big as some of these? I think I'm pretty secure as to who I am, right now, but ten years ago, I thought the same thing. Ah well.
    "Of course, tomorrow morning if our whole system collapsed,
    We?d divide ourselves again on lines of gender, race, and class.
    But tonight I don?t care if we win a million hearts,
    Unless we rip them out their chests and start throwing them at cars!"


    -"Johnny" by Tom Frampton


  6. EleCivil
    I got my Praxis scores back:
    Reading - 186 out of 190
    Math - 182 out of 190
    Writing - 182 out of 190
    Passed!
    I was hanging out with some friends the other night, playing some Geometry Wars. We're all really competitive with each other, so it's the perfect game for us. It was my turn, so I went to sit on the couch. There was one other guy on the couch, and he was sitting right in the middle, so I had to squeeze in next to him. I turn to him and say "Move over a bit, man, this is awkward." He grins and moves over, but toward me instead of away from me. So now he's full-on leaning against me, trying to make me feel uncomfortable. I think to myself "Oh yeah? I'll show him who's uncomfortable!" so I drop an arm around his shoulders. At this point, the other guy in the room sees that we've started an Awkward Moment Contest, and joins in - he runs over and sits on my lap. So to one-up him, I rest my other hand on his thigh.
    One of them finally says, "You know, seeing as we're all way too competitive for our own good, we shouldn't play this game. Knowing us, it could actually progress to one of us fucking the other one, shouting 'Hey, this is so wacky! I bet I'm making you feel uncomfortable right now!'. And then the third one's going to want to top that, somehow, and it'd turn into a real life Aristocrats joke before any of us would give up." We recognized that he was probably right, so we broke it up and went back to Geometry Wars.
    "Some say monsters died out before I was ever born,
    But I think they're still around now, so could you please walk me home?
    'Cause they're tearin' tearin' tearin' through the streets now,
    And tearing's never as good as I recall."


    -"I Know Monsters Well" by Punkin' Pie


  7. EleCivil
    My kickboxing instructor got kicked in the face. For some reason, this surprised him. Anyway, either his nose or his jaw was broken (conflicting reports), and he wants to take some time off. Completely understandable, since most people prefer to avoid situations that lead to them getting kicked in the face. As a result, my Wednesday night kickboxing classes have been canceled until further notice.
    Note to self: When changing in public locker rooms, do not wear novelty boxers. Those guys aren't checking you out, they're reading the words printed across your ass.
    Also, I got a second job as a tech gremlin in my school's computer lab. This mostly means that I'll be walking people through PowerPoint, over and over again. Should be fun.
    Oh, speaking of school, funny story. The other day, my science instructor (a sixty year old nun, mind you) was talking about pinecones - specifically, the difference between male and female pinecones. She's saying that the females "last a really long time, and can just keep doing their thing for as long as it takes", while the males "just blast their seeds all at once, then go limp, fall off, and roll away." I should also point out that I'm the only guy in this class. So I'm choking back the urge to laugh...because, come on, it's a NUN - you're not supposed to laugh at their innuendo. Then, this woman who sits in front of me turns around in her seat and gives me this big, exaggerated wink. That sets me off - not a huge, bellowing laugh, but just kind of a strangled chuckle. The woman in front of me turns around, acting completely innocent, just as everyone else turns to look at me. I hold up my textbook, trying to look extremely interested in the subject matter, but I'm not fooling anybody. The instructor looks over at me, gives this big sigh and rolls her eyes, telling everyone that that's another thing about pinecones - just like in humans, the females mature faster than the males.
    "In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade
    And he carries the reminder of every glove that laid him down or cut him
    'Til he cried out in his anger and his shame
    I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains."


    -"The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel


  8. EleCivil
    Ever completely forget that other people were in the house, and start doing something that even you think is kind of weird?
    Yesterday morning, I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, shaving my head, when I started singing:
    "Shaving my dome,
    Shaving my big white dome,
    I don't get razor burn
    Because I use a lot of foam!
    I wake up and shave my dome
    At the break of dawn,
    Yes, I'm shaving my dome,
    With my bath towel on...."
    I was about to start in on a second verse when I realized that, since it was the fourth of July, everybody was off of work, and waiting to applaud as soon as I stepped out.
    That night, some friends and I chased each other around with sparklers and traded protest songs. It was cool, but a couple people kept trying to get me to drink.
    "Dude, you'll be 21 in, like, four days. We're not going to turn you in or something. It's four days!"
    I was dumbstruck - they actually thought that the reason I don't drink is because it wouldn't be legal. I had to explain, like, since when do I care about the law? Fuck the law. I'm not going to be one of those posers who blunts their edges the day the law says that they can.
    Oh, yeah - I turn 21 on Sunday.
    "I learned all about Liberty.
    It's a statue near a harbor in a city called New York.
    And I learned that statues are things that we build
    To remind us of things that have died."


    -"Liberty is a Statue" by Evan Greer


  9. EleCivil
    So, I got out of school last week. Looks like I'm still maintaining a 4.0.
    I started summer semester this week. I need to take five classes over the summer and 5 over the fall to graduate on schedule. I've never taken a full load over the summer, before. It's insane. All the summer classes are accelerated - a whole semester's worth of work, compressed into ten weeks. Papers and projects and gobs of reading due every day. One of my classes is double-accelerated - two four hour long classes a week, with all the work squeezed into five weeks. Matt Lauer, it's the first week, and I'm already behind on work.
    My summer classes:
    Theoretical Approaches to Reading and Writing
    Teaching Reading Through Literature to Young Adolescents
    Integration of the Arts in Education
    Introduction to Theological Studies
    Spanish Guitar 2
    Heh. You can tell I'm nearing the end of my degree - most of the classes have really long names.
    Also, on the chest-bursting front, I went in to get an EKG. As I'm checking in, they ask for my religious preference. In case I need a quick funeral or something, I guess. I tell them I'm a Druid (reformed, not orthodox).
    Some samples of dialog from the preparations leading up to the event, as I was lying nearly nude across a table:
    Nurse: "You look kind of tense." (*squirts goo all over my chest and begins to stick electrodes to me*)
    Me: "I don't do this very often."
    Nurse: "I do!"
    Me: "Is it more fun on your end?"
    Nurse: "Oh, yes. Hey, your ribs are too bony, I can't get this thing to stick. Speaking of which, when I take these off, it's going to rip out a bunch of your leg hair."
    Me: "...Neat."
    Then they get to the actual EKG part. It's the same technology used for ultrasounds, to see babies while they're inside the womb. Which gives credence to my "incubating an alien" theory, I think. Anyway, they stick this dealie to my chest, and I can see my heart on the screen. It's incredibly detailed - I can see all the little valves opening and closing, the different parts pumping and flexing. The sound is amplified, too, so I'm clearly hearing the funny "squish-POP-thump" and thinking "Holy hell, that's the thing that's keeping me alive."
    Weird experience, over all. I get to find out the test results next Friday.
    "And hearts aren't made of glass,
    They're made of muscle, blood, and something else.
    And they don't so much as break as bend and tear,
    But we have what it takes to keep it together."


    "Bikes and Bridges" by Defiance, Ohio


  10. EleCivil
    After a lot of wranglin' with the financial aid office, I managed to tap into some more grants and scholarships. $12,000 worth, for my 4th year of college (4th year already? Jeez...). I'm almost going for free, now. Awwwwright.
    Last night, a friend and I dressed up in full pirate gear to go see Pirates of the Caribbean 3. At the last minute, though, we decided to see Knocked Up instead. We didn't change, though - we figured it'd be even funnier to be dressed as pirates that want to see a Judd Apatow movie than pirates who want to see a pirate movie. It was really good, by the way. Seth Rogan has always been my favorite of Apatow's regulars, all the way back to Freaks and Geeks, so I was glad to see him get a lead role.
    There's plans for a Guitar Hero party, soon. Everyone's going to dress as a different musician. I've heard people planning for Elvis, Gene Simmons, Kurt Cobain, John Lennon, and Claudio Sanchez. I've already got an Ian MacKaye costume planned, even though nobody there is going to know who Ian MacKaye is (philistines). I'll have to DIY a t-shirt with the lyrics to "Out of Step" on it.
    "I Don't smoke,
    Don't drink,
    Don't fuck,
    At least I can fucking think!"


    -"Out of Step (with the World)" by Minor Threat


  11. EleCivil
    This is going to be hard to write down, but I've got to get it off my chest. It's probably going to be tough to reply to it, too, so I won't hold it against anybody if you'd prefer not to.
    My dad's dying. Every male in my family tends to die young - my grandfather died at forty, my uncle died at thirty-five, my great-uncle died at fifty, and now my dad is dying at fifty.
    He's got two fatal respiratory diseases - lung cancer and pulmonary fibrosis. He's lost 70% of his lung capacity, relies on machines to help him breathe.
    My parents are living paycheck-to-paycheck. They have been for...well, forever. They've never had enough money to save any of it. A good 75% of their income comes from my dad's pay. And now he can't work any more. Problem is, he can't get on disability for 4-18 months, depending on how long the government takes.
    My dad tried to cash in his IRA retirement fund, to hold them over until either disability or life insurance kicks in, but they wouldn't let him. You have to meet certain standards to be able to cash it in early. They said that you had to be facing certain "hardships" to be able to do that. Two fatal diseases isn't "hardship" enough for them. They mean rich-man's "hardships" like buying your first house. We've never had the kind of money to even consider buying a house.
    So now I'm back home. In order for my family to survive, I've got to drop out of school, get a full time job, and become head of the household.
    My Dad's already said that he's not going to get chemo or radiation therapy - my mom would have to quit HER job in order to drive him to the hospital all the time, and then, even with me working full time, we wouldn't have enough money to scrape by. So he's decided to let it kill him, because he just doesn't have the money needed to live.
    I always thought I could beat the system - be the success story, the trailer park kid who, by studying hard and working three jobs and scholarshipping through college, could break out of the cycle of generations of poverty and finally BE something. I don't want to get to the top - I'm not looking for riches and fame. I just want to be a teacher. I'm GOOD at that. But the system doesn't let go that easily.
    So it goes. I've been working hard, so now I'll work harder. The system has me, but I won't let it break me. Things are stacked to keep everyone in their place, but I've got to prove that it doesn't have to be that way. I've got to, because...what else is there to do?
  12. EleCivil
    Talk Like a Pirate Day: Aftermath
    This year's Talk Like a Pirate Day went quite well. First, I flew a black flag from my car and drove around playing pirate songs with my windows down.
    Pirate playlist:
    Flogging Molly - Seven Deadly Sins
    David Rovics - Black Flag Flying
    Lazytown - You Are a Pirate
    Flogging Molly - Salty Dog
    Mutiny - Here's to Adventure
    Pirates of the Carribean Soundtrack - He's a Pirate
    Flogging Molly - Queen Anne's Revenge
    Murder by Death - Dead Men and Sinners
    Rockin' Chair - Wooden Boats, Iron Men
    Tom Smith - Talk Like a Pirate Day (official theme song)
    The Mad Caddies - Weird Beard
    Bread and Roses - Let the Wind and the Sea be my Grave
    After I finished with that, I dressed in full pirate garb (puffy shirt, feathered hat with a skull-and-bones insignia, stuffed parrot on shoulder, eyepatch, etc.) and went to the library, where I checked out Mutiny on the Bounty and Treasure Island. One of the librarians was celebrating, too (I guess you could call her a bookaneer...but it'd probably be best if you didn't), so we took a few pictures together.
    By that time my roommate was awake, so we went to a nearby grocery store and had a swordfight in the parking lot. All nearby buckles were sufficiently swashed. Aftewards, I did some juggling, picking up enough in tips to buy us some water.
    Then, we came back home to watch yesterday's episode of Wife Swap. No, that's not something I'd normally do, but one of the families was a pirate family, the husband being none other than Ol' Chumbucket, co-creator of Talk Like a Pirate Day and co-author of "Pirattitude!". Captain Slappy, the other co-creator, made an appearance as well.
    All in all, it was my best TLAP Day yet.
    "Anarchy! The scourge of every sea! The Antichrist abord a rig, with us, your cut-throat thieves!"


    -"Salty Dog" by Flogging Molly


  13. EleCivil
    This has nothing to do with anything, but I thought it was a funny story.
    The other day, a friend and I were having a contest to see who could do their taxes fastest (nerd race!). He pulled ahead, so I shouted "Matt Lauer! You got me."
    He pauses and looks up. "What'd you just say?"
    "...You got me?"
    "No, the first part. Matt Lauer?"
    "Yeah, the guy from the Today Show."
    "I know who he is. Did you seriously just use his name as an interjection?"
    I nod. "Yeah. I like to think of it as 'taking the Lauer's name in vain.'"
    "You make so little sense sometimes, that when you talk...it's like one of Modest Mouse's early albums is playing."
    "Thanks."
    "That was an insult."
    "Aw, Matt Lauer."
    "You ain't machines and you ain't land,
    And the plants and the animals, they are linked,
    And the plants and the animals eat each other.
    Oh my God and oh my cat."


    -"Never Ending Math Equation" by Modest Mouse


  14. 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


  15. EleCivil
    I'm inspired. I want to write. I mean, I want to REALLY write. I want to pound out the rest of Laika, right now. I've got some poetry running around in my head, and another story, too. I want to get it all out. I've been pretty blocked for the past couple months, but now I'm ready to explode. In word form. Wordsplosion, Vocabustion, Abecedarian-Conflagration!
    Problem is, my laptop's battery has died. Completely died. To the point where, even when it's plugged into the wall, there's no juice getting to the laptop itself. The laptop's got all my writing files on it - character bibles, plot outlines, loose dialogue, etc. On top of that, it's the only computer I've got access to that's private, and I've never been able to write well in public.
    I've ordered a new battery, but it'll take somewhere around eight business days to get here. But when it does, expect a new chapter (or two) within a couple days.
    "No Reason Why - to beat up on a poser skin!
    No Reason Why - to keep the little kids from getting in!
    No Reason Why - to take advantage of the people you know!
    No Reason Why - there's just no reason why!"


    -"No Reason Why" by Gorilla Biscuits


  16. 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


  17. 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


  18. 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


  19. EleCivil
    Here's some pictures from Halloween:

    My first attempt at a Jolly Roger pumpkin. Pretty bad, but still, it gets its point across.

    This was supposed to be a werewolf howling at the moon, but it turned out more like a werewolf shooting a basketball. But, hey, remember the movie Teen Wolf, where Michael J. Fox was a basketball-playing werewolf? Yeah, I think it works.

    Usually I dress as a pirate. As in, on days other than Halloween, I dress as a pirate. So, this year, I dressed in all black, tied a shirt around my head, and went as a second-rate ninja, for irony's sake (because of the ancient pirate/ninja fued, of course). I went outside and juggled clubs while handing out candy. After an hour, my hands were numb, and I was dropping them all over the place. I place the blame on some kind of ninja curse.
    And an update on the handlebar moustache thing: it's a bust. I just can't grow decent facial hair. This is what I look like after five days without shaving:
    [image removed]
    At that rate, it'd take me roughly two years to get a decent handlebar going.
    Just got back from feeding my ballot to a Diebold touch-screen machine. Maybe now I'll stop getting calls from Robotic Bill Clinton, Robotic Mike DeWine, and Robotic Mike DeWine's Wife.
    Currently Listening: "I Am Ninja, My Life is Lonely and Difficult" by The Dauntless Elite
  20. EleCivil
    Professor Layton has joined the ranks of my personal list of fictional heroes. As a logic tutor at college, I can't help but love the fact that there's a video game protagonist who fights crime by solving logic puzzles, whose catchphrase is "Critical thinking is the key to success!", and who is also a total badass. Just look at him (on the right).

    I also like the fact that he dresses just like me. All I need is a taller hat, and I'd make a right proper gent.
    Now, pardon me for a second, because I'm about to go all political. Those of you with small children may want to have them leave the room.
    I'll keep it short and sweet. I'm ready to declare, as a less-than-super non-delegate.
    Any Democratic super-delegates in the house? Listen close, because you're going to want to declare based on the elusive EC Endorsement. I don't pick losers. Except Kucinich. And Dean, back in '04. And Nader, back in '00 (But that one doesn't count, 'cause I was only 14). And...well, actually, I've yet to pick a winner. But, as Obama would say, "This time, for sure! Nothin' up my sleeve...presto!" Wait, no, that was Bullwinkle J. Moose.
    I was gonna endorse Obama, but you know what? Screw it. I'm voting my conscience. We need to show strength to our enemies in Pottsylvania.
    Bullwinkle/Kucinich '08
    Ally...OOP! A stronger tomorrow.
    "Thinking people can't be mind controlled - History knows this!
    So we'll teach our children to be skeptical of the government
    They'll question all the lies they're ever told
    They'll be fearless when they stop worshiping the flagpole..."


    "The Kids' War" by Attica! Attica!


  21. 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.
  22. 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


  23. 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)


  24. 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.
  25. 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.
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