Worst Ever Award

Today I can give out the worst song ever award. MTV2 has saddened me greatly by playing some crap song by a crap singer, Robin Thicke, who has the weakest voice I have heard on the radio or televsion in quite some time. I couldn't bear to see the end, but I think it was called, "When I Get You Alone."

"Girl, you are hotter than the earth's core"

The entire chorus just goes:
"Love you girl, love you girl...."

Oh my goodness, Pharrell is in the video too. Sellout. Wait, he had already done that, now he is just making really shitty music.

Peace.

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner

Another day, another punch in the eye. I had another fight last night. It ended about one round earlier than my coach and I had planned (and two rounds before the promoter expected in to, "three round war," ha). My opponent ended up tapping out due to strikes. I don't think he had experience taking too many punches.
Now, a quick recap for Ron and any other interested parties:
Off the start my opponent came with a leg kid, and I made the mistake of slightly dropping my hands, so I took a solid shot to the eye. This is my usual stategy as I need a punch in the face to remember that I am in a fight. Even my opponent's friends claimed that "your (my) eyes changed" after that.
Directly following the shots that hit my face, my opponent threw a strong right that I slipped by and went into a bodylock. I took him down, but was unsuccessful in passing his guard. Eventually he was coming off the ground when I faked a kick and brought down an elbow that knocked him back into the fence. From there, I worked into another bodylock. This time I took him away from the fence and lifted him to turn him to on a side so that I could avoid his guard.
I started out in half-guard with my other knee near his stomach, so I moved into a full mount.
I worked to create space but couldn't get the separation needed for elbows, but I eventually got him loosened and out at punching distance. After that, it would have been stopped pretty quickly if my opponent didn't decide to tap out.

I may have actually gotten the order of events a little wrong as I haven't seen a tape of the fight yet, so I will change it if I was wrong. I will let you know if I do that.

In other news, I don't really have to worry about money as my newest bit should last me through the start of summer work. That's nice.

Oh, the DVD should be out in time to take it down to Easter. It is certain to horrify the family.

I have been neglecting my studies as of late. I have a presentation on Tuesday, ten-page paper that needs to be started and finished by Friday, and I think there is a second presentation that I am forgetting about. I have a bunch of other little assignments to catch up on as well. For shame. I don't think the Dean's list is on the horizon this semester.

That is enough for now.

Peace.

You Don't Want To Read This

I was standing next to a man at a urinal today, minding my own business, when I began to hear a flicking sound. It took me a second to realize what the sound was...the young man next to me had apparently finished urinating and had decided that the best way to shake off any extra drops was to flick his penis. And he was flicking it hard. I thought it was all over after about ten flicks, but...
Then he started shaking, also quite vigorously, and did so for ten seconds. I have no idea whether or not his penis was especially peey, but that just seems excessive.
I remember the old rule of shaking it more than three times being playing with it, but what would you call this, genital abuse? This is odd, right?

Just thought you might want to hear about that. Ha. Now, back to teaching the future leaders of the world.

Peace.

Best Part Of Having Cable

Well, 7:30 in the morning, which means that Saved By The Bell is on. I wonder if it is on at 7 as well? That would allow me to watch it on the days when my 8 AM class isn't cancelled. I'll have to add this to my routine. I mean, what/who is more important than Zach Morris/early 90s television?

This episode has Tori of season 4a. This badass young lady was so spectacular that the TV webpage that I checked gave her a season of her own, as part of their senior year no less. Fall Balls are the bestest.
Slater's hair is so spectacular, I would have given it a season to itself.
OOH, Tori in a dress. "Girlfriend, that dress is going to kill." Also, Lisa Turtle is incapable of judging distance. Someone check for a glass eye. The side ponytail is one of the greatest fashion trends of all time.

"That is a really great shirt." I wish I had the fake valley-girl tone for that.

People often claim that SBTB was shallow especially in the depth of treatment of serious issues, but do you people remember the drunk driving episode?
I also forget that the Miss Bliss episodes portrayed 8th graders. Spectacular stuff, so true to life.
Lastly, can you believe that the College Years only lasted for one season?

Crap, Dawson's Creek is on, gotta change the channel.

Peace.

Outlook Cloudy

I have quite a bit of work to get done for my various courses tomorrow, but I have cable now, so that isn't likely to get fully done.
I am also somewhere near ten pounds overweight for my Friday weighin. It would be nice to know exactly how much I am over, but I always seem to forget something at home. This time, it was my scale (and my laptop charger, but I like inconveniencing Shane by stealing his).

In celebration of Saint Pat, we had a party on Friday. I believe that will have to be the last of the large-scale Clarkian parties. Small gatherings will still be allowed, but that was just out of hand. Tyrel claims to have counted 60 visitors. I never got that high, but it is possible.
The parking situation was also absurd. Apparently, by fairly early on, the culdesac was filled to the brim (curb), and the cars stretched out onto Jefferson. I would like to take this time to thank my lovely neighbors for not calling the police and my mother for building a well-insulated house. I guess I could thank Dale and Iris for not murdering me either.
Other thanks go to Seth for cleaning, Tom and Dan for decorating, and some wanker for robbing the tip jar (you are the reason this is the last Clark party).

Peace.

Happy Anniversary

I thought I might miss it since Blogger wasn't working earlier, but I made it, so HAPPY ANNIVERSARY Iraq War. A happy day indeed. Three years now, and folks are still dieing.

For fuck sake, get a plan and get out.

Peace.

A Seperate Piece

Continuing with my news of the odd theme. This one is just spectacular enough to make it on the page.

Self-Severed Penis

The article is cleverly written as well: "Before cops threw the book at him, Jakub Fik threw something unusual at them -- his penis."
Bravo Eric Herman.

Peace.

Multiply the Idiocy On That One

I will be back with more as I am at my field experience right now, but I thought you folks should see this.
Back.
So, we now have new information on the death that I linked up with yesterday. Apparently, she was text messaging as she was walking along. This makes perfect sense. They say that talking on a cell phone is just as distracting as being drunk while driving, so it makes perfect sense that I thought she was drunk when she was simply using her cell phone.

A new twist on the dead, deaf beauty queen.

Peace.

Things That Make You Go, "Whaa?"

I noticed this earlier today, and, after telling a couple of different people about it today, I thought it was just interesting enough to mention to you folks. I feel a little bad since this is getting entertainment from death, but I am an ass so the feeling only goes so far. So...

Why was this girl allowed to wander near that area anyway?
Miss Deaf Texas Killed By Train
Also, do you think that you would feel the vibrations or am I crazy?

Maybe more information will come out, and we will find that she was also drunk. Then we just wonder who her drinking buddies are.

Peace.

The Miracle of Non-Birth

I had one of the greatest disapointments of my life last night. I had high hopes of hanging out with a new-born lamb, but the fickleness of Mother Nature, or maybe Mother Farm, decided that the babe would have to wait. That led to me being sad little boy at six-ish this morning when I came back out to the barn and found no new being to cuddle with. But I am just being selfish.
Happily enough, I did get to hang out with a number of lambs the night before. The triplets were particularly, fantasticly cute. I would go into more details, but I feel that you should be forced to try to imagine it. Next time, I will bust some Ernest on this and give you more cuddly descriptors than you can handle.
I named a lamb 'Fitti (grafitti) after tagging his body. This was not done simply for evil titilation, but for identification as I might just make him mine. Then slaughter the little bastard. I have to prove to myself that I can raise something, kill it, and eat it. Otherwise, I will never be able to raise cattle and I will have to switch to raising dairy goats later in life.

Well, it is time to go street sledding with Seth and some second-grader that we are stealing from the street. Better us than the Eyotan ghetto, I say.
Perhaps I will report on that.

Peace.

10 Yards For Bullshit

Well, I think it is time for my fighting to actually makes its way onto the blog as I don't really feel like explaining my unhappy tale to everyone this next week. This way, I can just refer them to the blog.

Last night, I was not a happy camper and that continues with me today. Got screwed.
After cutting from 12 pounds over on Sunday afternoon, I got a call on Tuesday, the day before a scheduled fight, to tell me that my opponent had a shoulder injury and would not be allowed to fight me. I was already unhappy with that since the guy has been working with the injury for a little while and they should have at least had the decency to call me a few days beforehand.
Then it got even shittier. I was informed that they would be giving the guy that I was supposed to fight, who was supposed to be my first real challenge, was going to be given some scrub to fight because he was a big ticket draw, and they couldn't just take him off the card. I said, "Well, that's bullshit, why do I get fucked on this deal?" They said, "We'll try to get you a fight."
That, ladies and gents, is where the bullshit flag gets thrown. I found out that the promoter of my fight on the 25th of this month was already upset with me for taking my previously scheduled fight when it was so close to the date that I was to be fight for a title in his show. Since he has some ability to influence the other promoters, they decide that I shouldn't even get a scrub to fight. So now I am pretty much as pissed of as I get.
I did, however, receive a small compensation for my troubles, but I don't believe that it makes up for my hours spent training, my anticipation, my weightcutting, my hours spent talking to people and trying to sell tickets, and the mountains of bullshit that I now have to deal with.
Lastly, I talked with the guy who I was supposed to fight, and they are giving him a title shot at the show in the cities in May. Should I throw another flag for that one too?

On a slightly more exciting, and happier, note, I now have the internet and cable at my apartment. My first order of business was to watch C-SPAN 2 for about an hour before my last class. Exciting stuff.

I am going to parent-teacher conferences today. I am hoping to see a confrontation, a fistfight, and maybe a biting.
On Monday, during my Spring Break, I will be teaching my own lessons as Mr. Smith will be out of town. They are giving me the children, and I don't even have a license.

Peace.

Exciting News

Tommy has a new post up on the Jeffrey Hobbs blog. It is most grand and Tom's writing skill is improved.

I will have more later. There is a rant coming. I swear.

Peace.

Breakdancing Makes Me Smile

Hasidic Jew Breakdancing.

My favorite part is when he takes the time to put his yarmuka back on.

Peace.