A hair-trigger double-barreled Shit machine gun... of children?

Only have time to write a short post before going to work. I spent too much time reading everyone's blogs that I have hardly any time for my own. I started teaching swim lessons again, a decision I'm sure to regret given adequate time. The first class I teach is for two brothers that are home-schooled. It is a bit of an awkward situation in that the younger brother is far more coordinated and athletic than the older brother, so I have to be conscious not to make anything a competition. The next class is a private lesson with one kid who I'm sure I have no idea how he has even survived in this world this long. He it TERRIFIED of water, hates to even be in the stuff. His parents must caudal him far too much for someone his age. I saw him take his first lesson with another instructor, Jason, and he was literally screaming the whole time. I am the third in the line of instructors he has been passed down to. He seems to be doing better now though, now the trick will be to get him to be able to actually make some amount of forward progress in the water. The third and final class is as Leyhe would put it, "A shit-clone" or a "hair trigger double barreled shit machine gun". It is a class of eight, half of which are classically trained hooligans. Keeping them in line for 45 minutes is like controlling Normandy on D-day. I should just go on strike until they offer me anything but peanuts, but hey, such is the life while working for a non-profit I guess.

laters

I think the Presidents would have liked the library to remain open

I sit here utterly lacking inspiration. I just wrote an awesome post, but forgot to publish it before I restarted my computer cause I just downloaded something. That is a shitty feeling. Yall are just going to have to believe that it was the bees-knees cause I'm not writing it again, it just wouldn't be as good. To pack it into a shell, whichever nut you like, let's just say that when living in the town in which I reside the pinnacle of cool is not living in a house at all. (Or an apartment, or even a car. Sorry Ricky) The summit of Mt. Hip is homelessness. (And dirty neon clothing)

BTW, new to the world of projectile word vomit internet style are my two brothers.
http://ahintofanexplanation.blogspot.com/ (Marty)
http://howtobehorrible.blogspot.com/ (Jeremy) (Sorry if I blew your anonymous cover.)

Don't spend too much time there, as you'll realize they are far smarter and more interesting than I am. Next thing I know they will be calling me on the phone like "Hey man I hung out with your friends and we had a rockin time" And I'll be sitting at home playing video games by myself and sobbing about the fact my only friends are in GTA IV. (And even they eventually stab me in the back and steal my girlfriend.)

On a valentines day note Suzye and I went rollerskating and then ate some sushi. I'll try to post the videos sometime this week. I had not been skating for years but I managed to get 3rd place in the race of my age group. Never you mind that there were 3 entries, and the guy that won had some slick speed skates while I had the rental specials that whenever you started going fast vibrated uncontrollably. Also it is noteworthy that they were the same exact model rollerblades that I used to have while in elementary school. (The original rollerblades. Except mine were blue. Waaaay cooler.) To anyone reading this: come visit me in Oly and we'll go skating. Its fun and dirt-cheap. Following the skate session we went to Sushi House, which serves up litterally the best sushi I have ever eaten. (Sajo roll for life!)

snoogins

la da da de da da da da, la da da de da da da da, la da da da da, la da de da la da de da da da da da!

Today may turn out to be a monumental day. At the pool we have a water fitness instructor who is nothing short of hilarious. Every time she works it's always the same, she comes out of the locker room with mini boombox in hand, plugs it into the wall, places it on a step, (the chord is not long enough to reach the plug in when the boombox is on the ground) and gets in the pool. She does all of this to accommodate her tape. (we only have a CD player) The tape in question, the same tape she brings everytime, is none other than Ultimate Dance Party 1997. In case all of you aren't familiar with said gem, here's a general track list: (I don't know the actual song names so I'll just put the main lyrics)

"Boom Boom Boom, let me hear you say waayo, waayo!"
"Dancing free until the morning light... together forever..."
"Total eclypse of the heart"(late '90s techno version of course)
"Another night, another dream, I'll be with you"
"Ah hah yeah hah, wanna be my lover?"
"It's a beautiful life, oh oh oh oh"
and the classic: "I like to Move it, Move it!"

Basically it's like being in the movie "Night at the Roxberry" the whole time!

This is by no means an all inclusive list, just the ones we heard today. The reason, as stated earlier, this may be a monumental day is that it is likely the last day she will bring this tape, the reasons being
(1) The massive outcry to turn it off by the class (this happens nearly everyday)
(2) She is having gastric bypass sergery on Tuesday (shows how effective water aerobics really are) and vows to have new music before she gets back.

I cant help but admit that as much as I bitch about having these lump of shit songs stuck in my head for at least the remainder of the day I'll probably miss them when their gone.

until next time,
Randall

Bums, Books, Blogs

Many bums have come and gone since I've been sitting here in the library. One of which described in detail how he got beat up by some guy with a skateboard today. He stumbled in and sat down at a table next to me and laid his head down, making various grunting and groaning noises. I didn't think much of it since this happens all the time, but then someone who I assume he knew (or do all bums just know one another?) started talking to him. He said he'd gotten his ass kicked, been beat up with a baseball bat, pipe, and all other sorts of torture and punishment in the corse of his life, but this was the first time he'd ever been fucked up by a skateboard. To this yet another bum who looked like a walking quilt of various patches (Santa Cruz, pirate skull and crossbones, green teddy bear, etc.) replied: "You know there is a type of kung-fu using skateboards people do, it's called truck-fu." (I swear to god he actually said this) (anyway I couldn't make that shit up) Needless to say this sentiment didn't seem to ease him, as he continued to grunt and groan for another couple of hours or so.

At this point you may be wondering what it is I am doing in the library for hours on end. Don't worry, I haven't started playing WOW or anything, I'm doing stuff for school. I won't bore you with the details just know that I have more on my plate right now than Ghandi after one of his many fasts. By the way the picture at the top (I couldn't figure out how to put it at the bottom) is what one looks like after spending said hours at a computer screen researching a 17th century dead dude. 

later gaters

Why do I get the feeling I'll be judged on these thoughts in the afterlife?

I've got some sound advice for all you kiddies out there, as I'm sure this is likely the reason for reading my blog in the first place I'll clue you in to a real jewel; don't watch crazy Japanese videos on YouTube and then promptly fall asleep. You will have some crazy ass dreams. Guaranteed. I have never felt more Japanese in my life, because if this is the kind of stuff they are constantly subjected to in their waking life then they have to feel as strange as I do presently throughout their entire lives. A scary thought. But then again they dream up this stuff in the first place allowing us all to feel the sheer joy their culture exhudes. At least on T.V. anyway.

Great Success!

Just finished writing my first paper since my return to school and I have to say it feels damn fine. Now one might say: "It's a two page paper, get over yourself." And to them I say Fuck off, it's a big step for me and I worked long and hard on it. Asshole.

And so, with all my responsibilities taken care of, I get to surf the world wide interweb for the calamities and overall ridiculousness of my peers until Suzye gets out of class. Yeeeeaaaahhh!

Best 2009 Ever!

I said this about 2008 one year ago and '08 sucked. At best it was the third best 2008 ever. So what all-yall-gon do about it? First off, to all of my friends who are fiddily-fucking around the globe: COME HOME. (You know who you are) I know you are doing good or whatever, having grand, no doubt life changing experiences, but in all actuality the greatest good you could do for me right now is to be in close proximity to me. That way I could have a friend to hang out with, or maybe even two. Ok there, I said it; I dont have any friends. I've always been a semi-popular guy (especially with the ladies) but here in the epicenter of the hipster fuckin universe its hard for a guy like me to avoid climbing a clocktower and... well... you know.

2009 did however kick off with a bang. For any of you who might be reading this, do not take offense to what I am about to say, but my expectations were not all that high. But man o man was I sure wrong. Just sayin, could have been the greatest n.y.e. in the history of my sad little world. For the uninitiated, (there's a good chance ninty percent of the people reading this were there, but then again, alcolol was involved) it was a shit show. In hindsight the catalist was the massive amount of alcohol. We had it in spades; a fifth each of whiskey, vodka, scotch (thanks Kirra), and rum. Also a twenty-four of mirror pond, an eighteen of vitamin R and the coup de gras; a huge bottle of champaigne. The latter of which I did'nt even see until the next day. Once all of us were saturated, the night culminated in a sushi rice fight. Nuff said.

So I'm calling in all of you, lets do whatever it takes to make this truly the best 2009 EVER!