Well, I apologize about the
lack of quotes last week, but I actually have pretty damn good excuses this
time. Tuesday, I was getting a job. Wednesday, I was buying a car. Thursday, I
was signing the lease for my apartment. And Friday, I was renting a U-Haul.
Saturday, I was making Tony move all my stuff out and bring it down to
Maryland. I guess I have no real good excuse for Monday. Sorry. It won't happen
again (yes, it will). And I also won't be able to access this account for a
while due to the fact that I don't have a phone yet. So If you want to write,
I'll be available at my gl account (dfishe1@gl.umbc )
for the next week or so. Maybe I'll do a quote from there, but don't expect it
(see, I told you).
Well, due to the fact that I have to leave in an
hour, and part of leaving entails packing up this very computer on which I am
typing (and playing tennis with Joe), I'm going to make this fairly short. On
the trip, Kevin and I were sharing some of the songs that we had written with
one another and critiquing them. Well, Mike felt a little left out, and
frankly, a little less like a man than Kevin and I. And by the way, this one is
real crass, so if you are offended by homosexuality, close your ears. Well
anyway, Mike was talking about how he feels like he doesn't do anything cool
because me and Kevin write music, so he was going to tell us about this gay
thing he does where he writes down philosophy quotes and shit...
Quote Of the Day 8/16/98
Mike: "Well, there is this one thing I do, but it's kinda gay."
Kevin: "Mike. I got one question for you... Do you do it while kissing a guy?"
Mike: "What?"
Kevin: "Do you do it while kissing a guy?"
Mike: "No."
Kevin: "Well, then it's not gay."
Writing down philosophy quotes isn't too bad, Mike. At least you don't stay up
until 5 in the morning on the internet looking for them. Oh, wait...
Offend and run,
Extendo.
Still Standing Right Here...
Sunday, August 16, 1998
Saturday, June 20, 1998
My First Frat Party
You know what
guys? There is a significant difference between guys and girls. OK, there are
several. And I imagine there are some even I don't know about yet. But here's
one of them. Guys flirt because they like to be around a girl they find
attractive. Girls flirt to send signals. Guys have no idea what those signals
mean. Girls think guys are stupid. Guys are stupid. Girls are right. So knowing
all this, wouldn't it just be easier if girls said what they meant? They really
have no excuse for being pissed that guys aren't getting the point when they
know we're stupid. Kids are stupid too. I don't try to reason with them.
"Don't eat that pork, Jimmy. It's too red and probably raw, and it might
give you a bad case of salmonella." Instead, I stoop to their level and just
take it from them. I've learned that "Because I said so" is a valid
argument. I'm usually nice about it and give them back at least one of their
cupcakes.
Well, I didn't exactly bring that topic up for no reason, but that's not what I came here to talk about. For the first time ever this weekend, I went to a frat party. First of all, I really had nothing else to do, and second of all, I always wanted to see what one was like. Every party I ever went to in the apartments at college looked like the scene in the driver's ed video right before the crash. Well, this one was a bit more fun. I had spent two hours playing volleyball with a few guys, and when we were too tired to play, he invited me to go to this frat party. I went, and lo and behold, they had a volleyball net set up. Well, I can get along in any sort of social situation, provided volleyball is there as a catalyst. So I played for another 4 hours. It was kinda cool actually. The people there were all pretty nice. Even the guys standing in the little inflatable pool drinking with an inflatable penguin. And they want you to drink at frat parties. I went up to the host as I was leaving to thank him for letting me play volleyball at his house and he said something to the effect of "well, I'll thank you if you have a beer." So, all in all, it was a pretty cool time. Of course, if I didn't play volleyball, I don't know what I would have done. I guess I could have stood around and tried awkwardly to fit into a conversation with people I didn't know, but I just don't have the taste buds to get drunk. I no longer think it's such a moral conviction, I just hate the taste of the stuff. All beer tastes like ass. Don't let anybody tell you that one tastes like honey, because you'll drink it only to find out it tastes like ass honey. At any rate, I was standing on the volleyball court waiting for the next game to start, and this guy they called "Spanky" who was wearing a bra all night, came around in a rather drunk manor looking around and cursing to himself "Where the hell is it!?!" Being the good guest, I thought I'd try to help...
Well, I didn't exactly bring that topic up for no reason, but that's not what I came here to talk about. For the first time ever this weekend, I went to a frat party. First of all, I really had nothing else to do, and second of all, I always wanted to see what one was like. Every party I ever went to in the apartments at college looked like the scene in the driver's ed video right before the crash. Well, this one was a bit more fun. I had spent two hours playing volleyball with a few guys, and when we were too tired to play, he invited me to go to this frat party. I went, and lo and behold, they had a volleyball net set up. Well, I can get along in any sort of social situation, provided volleyball is there as a catalyst. So I played for another 4 hours. It was kinda cool actually. The people there were all pretty nice. Even the guys standing in the little inflatable pool drinking with an inflatable penguin. And they want you to drink at frat parties. I went up to the host as I was leaving to thank him for letting me play volleyball at his house and he said something to the effect of "well, I'll thank you if you have a beer." So, all in all, it was a pretty cool time. Of course, if I didn't play volleyball, I don't know what I would have done. I guess I could have stood around and tried awkwardly to fit into a conversation with people I didn't know, but I just don't have the taste buds to get drunk. I no longer think it's such a moral conviction, I just hate the taste of the stuff. All beer tastes like ass. Don't let anybody tell you that one tastes like honey, because you'll drink it only to find out it tastes like ass honey. At any rate, I was standing on the volleyball court waiting for the next game to start, and this guy they called "Spanky" who was wearing a bra all night, came around in a rather drunk manor looking around and cursing to himself "Where the hell is it!?!" Being the good guest, I thought I'd try to help...
Quote Of the Day 6/20/98
Me: "What are you looking for?"
Frat Guy: "The fucking penguin!"
The funny thing was that he said it in a tone of voice like I was an idiot for not knowing he was looking for the penguin. And he was really distressed about the penguin's current unknown whereabouts. Only at a frat party...
Love, inflatable penguins, and bad flirting habits,
Dustin.
Still Standing Right Here...
Thursday, June 18, 1998
Professional Car School Advice
You
know, I've finally figured out the secret to my car. It makes a lot of
unnatural noises when you try to do certain things in it. Like accelerate. Well,
the key to a smooth ride in my car, is to block out those sounds. I've found
that turning the music up really loud helps a lot. And I've noticed that if you
don't look at the driver's side mirror ever, you can hardly notice that it's
falling off. I'm trying to apply this skill to other areas in my life as well.
I once read an article that said that taking an aspirin daily with a shot of
bourbon reduces a person's awareness of heart attacks. I wonder if this
principle also works with dirty laundry. And student loans.
Well, thankfully, one of my best friends happens to be a Car major at GMI Institute (which in its written out form, is General Motor's Institute Institute). So I tell him all the problems I'm having with the car and he says some words I don't understand and I nod my head and go "ooooh, ok," and then we play tennis. Well, he was in the car and asked me if that light was always on. Apparently, there's this light on the car that says "Check Engine" that is just always on (I hope). I told him that it was always on, because I think it might be true, but mostly just because I didn't want him to panic. I asked him if he knew what that meant or how to fix it...
Quote Of the Day 6/18/98
Joe: Oh, yeah. You want to know what would fix that?
Me: Yeah, what?
Joe: A piece of electric tape (as in to cover the little light).
He goes away to Car School to tell me that. His mother must be proud.
Testing the boundaries of child abuse,
Mr. Whistlehead.
Still Standing Right Here...
Well, thankfully, one of my best friends happens to be a Car major at GMI Institute (which in its written out form, is General Motor's Institute Institute). So I tell him all the problems I'm having with the car and he says some words I don't understand and I nod my head and go "ooooh, ok," and then we play tennis. Well, he was in the car and asked me if that light was always on. Apparently, there's this light on the car that says "Check Engine" that is just always on (I hope). I told him that it was always on, because I think it might be true, but mostly just because I didn't want him to panic. I asked him if he knew what that meant or how to fix it...
Quote Of the Day 6/18/98
Joe: Oh, yeah. You want to know what would fix that?
Me: Yeah, what?
Joe: A piece of electric tape (as in to cover the little light).
He goes away to Car School to tell me that. His mother must be proud.
Testing the boundaries of child abuse,
Mr. Whistlehead.
Still Standing Right Here...
Wednesday, May 20, 1998
Nothing But Rim: World's Worst Basketball Team
I don't know how
this is going to turn out, so I apologize for whatever the hell happens to
this. And I also apologize for the last few weeks. It turns out graduating
isn't as easy as I thought. I only need to get six credits this semester and
there's a chance I won't make it. But hell, I got a pink tassel, so the tough
part is over.
In case you all didn't know, I made a film this
semester called "Nothing But Rim: The World's Worst Basketball Team."
It's the first in a series called "Mockumentaries" which is going to
be on Comedy Central right after South Park in the year 2000. That's the plan.
The next one is going to be about this guy named Prozboy who, in his 19 years
on this earth, has never showered. That one is actually a lot closer to the
truth than the basketball one.Anyway, I was trying to take equipment out and the cage (place where all the equipment is) told me that I wasn't allowed to without permission from my professor. So I ran around like a banshee through a boardwalk trying to find him. I finally found him ten minutes before the cage closed, and asked him to write me a pass for the cage. He did and everything was cool. Well, I started to load up a whole lot of stuff onto a cart and wheeled it out to the elevator. I pushed the button and nothing happened. I asked somebody and apparently the thing had been broken all day. I just stood there feeling so defeated staring at the cart and then the stairs several times over again. My professor walked by and asked if everything went well with me getting my stuff. I told him that I got the stuff out but now the elevator wasn't working.
Quote of the Day 5/20/98
"Well, I could write you a pass for that too."
-Mark Street
I laughed at first, but I'll be darned if it didn't work!
Love, pink tassels, and mockumentaries,
Dustin Spielberg.
Still Standing Right Here...
p.s.- Sorry for all that crap down there.
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Friday, May 1, 1998
An Italian Wedding
On Wed, 6 May 1998, Jacy A D'Aiutolo wrote:
> D-
> The trick to forks, spoons, knives, and glasses in a formal
> setting is to work from the outside in, one utensil at a time. You really
> can't go wrong that way.
> :-)
> -Jacy
Alright, Jacy! Then what about the fork that was sideways at the top of my plate? What do I do with that one, eh? Is that the one you use to stab your waiter when he laughs at you when you use the wrong one? Next time I have to go to some formal event, I'm just going to bring six sporks. That way, I can't go wrong.
The day after my banquet, I had to be back in PA for my uncle's wedding. So that was two days in a row that I ate good food. In case you've never had it before, fillet mignon, even though pronounced phonetically would sound really gross, is very good. No matter what fork/spork you decide to use. And they played Git Jiggy Wit It at the reception. I noticed a significant difference in dance styles from what I saw at the club Thursday night. A lot less grinding. But the amount of drunks on the dance floor was much the same.
Well, I was dressed up in a nice suit for the second day in a row. Turns out I actually own a suit. I had no idea. Well, my sister was coming to pick me up and I'm smart enough to know that you're supposed to compliment everybody on their outfit, no matter what it looks like. My sister was wearing this fairly short skirt, and she looked really good in it. Anyway, I said something to the effect of "Nice skirt!" with some sort of voice inflection that implied that it was short. Well, to this, she says...
Quote Of the Day 5/1/98
"Yeah. They told me to wear something short so that Grandma wasn't the only one that looked like a slut."
-Char (my sis)
Grandma showed up with fish net stockings and a thong.
Buying sporks by the dozen,
Screaming Cricket.
Still Standing Right Here...
> D-
> The trick to forks, spoons, knives, and glasses in a formal
> setting is to work from the outside in, one utensil at a time. You really
> can't go wrong that way.
> :-)
> -Jacy
Alright, Jacy! Then what about the fork that was sideways at the top of my plate? What do I do with that one, eh? Is that the one you use to stab your waiter when he laughs at you when you use the wrong one? Next time I have to go to some formal event, I'm just going to bring six sporks. That way, I can't go wrong.
The day after my banquet, I had to be back in PA for my uncle's wedding. So that was two days in a row that I ate good food. In case you've never had it before, fillet mignon, even though pronounced phonetically would sound really gross, is very good. No matter what fork/spork you decide to use. And they played Git Jiggy Wit It at the reception. I noticed a significant difference in dance styles from what I saw at the club Thursday night. A lot less grinding. But the amount of drunks on the dance floor was much the same.
Well, I was dressed up in a nice suit for the second day in a row. Turns out I actually own a suit. I had no idea. Well, my sister was coming to pick me up and I'm smart enough to know that you're supposed to compliment everybody on their outfit, no matter what it looks like. My sister was wearing this fairly short skirt, and she looked really good in it. Anyway, I said something to the effect of "Nice skirt!" with some sort of voice inflection that implied that it was short. Well, to this, she says...
Quote Of the Day 5/1/98
"Yeah. They told me to wear something short so that Grandma wasn't the only one that looked like a slut."
-Char (my sis)
Grandma showed up with fish net stockings and a thong.
Buying sporks by the dozen,
Screaming Cricket.
Still Standing Right Here...
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