I discovered this church a few weeks ago after walking seventeen hours through the woods. The reason it's light out is because I started my journey in the dead of night. My religion permits me to use only Kodak 400 C-41 Black and White film with my Nikon FM-10. These particular pictures were taken with my 24mm Nikkor. I feel like Ansel Adams!


ISIS will be in Buffalo tomorrow, and I've been showing off my ticket to pretty much everyone I see. Some chick got super impressed and thought I was referring to Osiris' wife when I told her. What an idiot she was. Shoe companies can't have wives! Then again she probably thought I was talking about Ol' Dirty Bastard (RIP). Oh well. You can never tell with kids these days.

Back to business. If you haven't figured it out already, Spring Break 2006 has ended. I resumed working this past Monday, heavy hearted and full of sorrows. A pretty lame week but none of that matters cause it's FRIDAY, Cuzz!!!!

Gonna get TORE UP!

That's what I'm saying, Bro's.

Last Saturday I saw that Silent Hill movie. Borrrring. The whole time I couldn't help but think of better video games to model movies after. Why are they always the shooter games??? I was thinking they could make a movie about Galaga. It would star Will Smith as the president of the U.S.A. and he'd also be the nation's top pilot. And the movie would open on him and the First Lady (Halle Berry) hanging out, barbecuing on the White House lawn. Will's drinking a cold one, smoking a fat cigar, while Halle sunbathes topless when, out of nowhere, this swarm of alien battleships fill the sky. Buildings start blowing up, fires break out, people are screaming and running around on fire. (EVERY MOVIE NEEDS AT LEAST ONE PERSON RUNNING AROUND ON FIRE.) So Will sees all this, the cigar drops from his mouth and he says, "Awwww hell naw. Not in my backyard."
Right there you know shit is gonna go down.
Next scene: Will gets briefed on how these "alien bastards" are from the Galagan Galaxy and that they really hate freedom. For billions of years they've combed the universe wiping out societies where citizens have the right to pursue happiness. Will is told that these "alien bastards" don't even know how to smile. He starts gnashing his teeth and clenching his fists so you can tell how upset he is. "But there is hope..." they tell him.
The CIA inform Will that years and years ago, a training program was created in case of such an emergency. At first he gets mad because he's the boss of America and should know everything, but then his men tell him that he's known about it all along. They then produce a copy of GALAGA, and Will looks at them, tilts his head, squints, and says, "WHAAAA??????"
"That's right Sir. Galaga. Originally intended as a Defense Training Program, Galaga was released as a video game after Japanese spies broke into the Pentagon" they say.
Will is silent and then responds with a hushed, "Well I'll be damned." After a quiet pause he asks, "So what are we going to do?" And then his men say, "The only thing we can do."
Cut to an arcade in Upstate New York.
It's a cloudy day in late April and you see a handsome young man wearing gloves with the fingers cut off step out of a building adorned with neon lights. He leans against the wall with one foot, cups his hands to his mouth, and lights a smoke. It's me. A child runs up asking for my autograph, and hands me a piece of paper. I accept it and then, with my cigarette, I set fire to it. That shows how badass and apathetic I am. I tell the kid to scram and continue smoking.
All of a sudden black cars circle me, a helicopter swoops above, and bullhorns are commanding that I approach them with my hands up. I stand still. They repeat their orders. Finally, I take my last drag and toss the smoke. Thinking I've been set up, I walk toward the cars and say, "Fuckin' kids."
Once in custody I'm all like, "I got rights you know. This is America!" and all that other tough stuff regular joes say when they've been apprehended. I ask what reason they have for arresting me and the G men tell me to shut up. After what seems like an eternity, an officer grabs me, leads me into a room with no windows, and throws me in. He shuts the door and I start banging on it until I hear a voice from behind telling me to cut out all the racket.
I respond with a "Why don't you kiss my a----" and that's when I see the man behind the voice is Will Smith, president of the United States of America. Thinking on my feet I finish the question, "k-k-iss my aunt? She's a huge fan of yours, M-M-Mr. President, sir." Will tells me to sit down. I ask what this is all about. He tells me all about the Galagan Galaxy, their hatred of freedom, how they're attacking us, and that besides him I'm the only hope for this country, and then he asks me if I'll do my duty as a citizen and answer the call.
I don't say a word. I just stare at the floor but also through the floor. Real intense scene. Again Will asks, "Are you in?"
I look him straight in the eye and say, "You bet your ass I am."
He nods, "Damn right."
Then there should be a montage of me playing Galaga, first making it to like level eight, failing, and getting real mad. But then as it continues I get awesome and make it to level twenty without even dying. Inspring music plays. Then Will starts practicing Galaga and totally smokes dudes. The montage lasts five minutes and ends with both Will and I blowing up those jerk-off red moth ships.
The CIA dudes watch our progression through one of those double-sided mirrors, and after conferring with each other say , "I think they're ready." Cut to Will and I strapped into a fancy looking spaceship, ready to blast off into oblivion. We look at each other, touch fists and Will says to me, "Solid." Next thing you know we're flying through outer-space with stars whizzing by us. But then we come up on a fleet of alien spacecraft.
I figure to keep production costs down we insert actual game footage here and then put vocal tracks over it. Will and I will shout things like, "YEAH!" "GOOD SHOOTIN' MAN!!" "Wow, that was close!" "Hey watch out!" "Take that, Alien Bastards!" and other really exciting phrases. After a half hour's worth of that kind of action the audience will probably need a rest, so we'll make it to the mothership and blow that bitch to smithereens. I'll high-five Will and he'll yell something like, "Let's bring this Bad Boy home!!"
Back on Earth there will be a huge celebration at McDonalds and everyone will eat Freedom Fries. I'll stand alongside the President as he speaks to the nation saying, "Today we have won a great war. Freedom---1. The Galagans---0. So let's all rejoice and eat Freedom Fries."
The crowd cheers. Halle Berry walks over (topless) and I say to Will, "Yeeeeowza, look at that Hot Mama." He cold cocks me saying, "That's my woman you're talking about."
Roll credits.

I always hear people say that women love a man in uniform. BOGUS! I wear a uniform to work everyday and not once has it paid off. OK...so that's not entirely true; there was this one time that I ended up getting freaky with a more mature woman.

I'm a custodian at a Junior High School and I work the first shift, so I'm there from 5 A.M till 2 P.M. You're probably questioning how it is that a custodian would get excited about, let alone be a part of, Spring Break. Let me answer that by saying I'm the youngest custodian in the building (because of which I'm constantly forced to prove myself to the older, more cynical, custodians) and I requested the week off. You thick-skulled folks out there are wondering why I refer to myself and my co-workers as custodians and not as janitors.
Simple. The word janitor implies that I perform the action of "janit"ing. When you tell me exactly what I "janit," then, and only then, will I refer to myself as a janitor. Idiots.
Enough technicalities though; the proper term for my job-or its description-aren't the point of this tale.

It was a few months ago, Taco Day to be specific, and I was throwing sawdust on some fresh vomit. Right as I was about to mop it all up I saw the super cute Spanish teacher walking my way, so I winked at her and said, "Como esta, Mama?"
She wasn't having it and got real snippy, asking things like, "Is it true you've been buying cigarettes for the eighth graders?"
I told her straight up, I said, "Listen, Doll. Those kids are what, fourteen years old? They were bound to start smoking anyways. All I'm doing is making life easier for them."
She was speechless and, I gotta tell you, it felt great to shut her up. Some people are just so ignorant, ya know?
I went back to vomit duty wheeling that yellow bucket full of puke, sawdust, and dirty water into the cafeteria kitchen. One of the lunch ladies, Linda, was still there cleaning up the remnants of Taco Day. She greeted me with a "How's it going, Sailor?"
What an ego booster!
I popped the collar of my orange jumpsuit, cocked my head, cut her a sly look, and said, "A lot better now. How's it cookin, Linda?" (I threw in that cookin part so she'd know that I knew a little something about her. Impress her real good.)
She responded by beckoning me with her pointer finger so I let the broom fall where it was and walked over to her, slowly, not letting her see how excited I really was. Things got steamy and we started slow dancing while "Love Of A Lifetime," by Firehouse, played on the radio. I was about to kiss her when I had the strange feeling of being watched. I turned around to see a crowd of kids pouring into the kitchen, staring, pointing, and laughing. In all the excitement neither Linda nor I heard the bell ring, announcing the end of school. We just danced and danced while they just watched and watched.
To this day none of the teachers acknowledge my presence, and it was a few days before the other custodians would talk to me again, and I guess you want to laugh too because I almost made out with Linda The Lunchlady; but you know what? Everyday at lunch when I saunter through the line Linda greets me with a smile and I ALWAYS get seconds.
Top that!

Earl's cousin does tattoos in his basement for pretty cheap prices, and for a dude with an 8th grade education, they're not that bad. I got a call from Groff last night and he told me there was going to be a "totally bitchin' ripper" at Earl's cousin's house. Now I wasn't looking for a sausage fest so I asked him if any broads would be there. He was all like, "Oh yeah dude, definitely!" Then to sweeten the deal even more he told me that he was buying a bottle of liquour to share with everybody.
Hey, free booze, hot broads, and tattoos? I'm there.
A half hour later Groff pulls up ands takes me to the party. We get downstairs and there aren't any chicks! I'm pretty sure you can imagine how ticked off I was. I pulled Groff to the side and asked him where all the fine honies were at and he told me to relax and have a few drinks. He refused on letting me make any, and vowed to be bartender for the night. Pretty cool dude, eh?
So you know, we're hanging out getting drunk and Earl's cousin decides to start tattooing us; I really had to think about what I wanted to get inked on me. That shit's forever, yo! After three or four drinks I figured out what I wanted: I've been a Saves The Day fan for about five years, have seen them in concert TWICE, bought a t-shirt, own two of their CD's, and am totally feeling this new jam they dropped. So I tell Earl's cousin that what I want on my bicep is "STD RULES!" But then I thought; don't I want to remember when I got tattooed? So I added, "Put Spring Break 2006 under it."
Earl's cousin was real stoked about the idea and said it was probably the most creative tattoo he'd done all week. I would get ink'ed right after he finished with Groff. Groff was acting kinda funny and wouldn't show us what he got; all we knew was that it was across his knuckles. As for Earl's cousin, no one told me he ate an eighth of mushrooms before we showed up. If I had known that I wouldn't have been so excited to get a tattoo. Basically what I'm saying is, although the Spring Break 2006 part came out fine, he put the second S in STD RULES at the end of the wrong word.
At this point we're all pretty hammered, with fresh tats, waiting for these chicks to show up. Finally, Groff was ready to show us what he had put on his knuckles. His right hand had the word PARTY on it and his left had HARD. He was pretty pumped about showing them to us, but then he did something weird. He pointed to his crotch and asked, "Get it?"
We didn't really "get it" until about fifteen minutes later when we discovered that Groff had crushed up boner pills and mixed them into our drinks. Imagine it! A bunch of drunk dudes hanging out in a basement, erect as the day they were born!
I was pretty frustrated at this point so I asked Earl where all the chicks were. Earl shrugged his shoulders at first but an hour later he admitted to being really nervous about talking with girls on the phone, and hadn't actually called them. This party was a total disaster.
Sure I was drunk, but I also had a messed up tattoo, and a stiffy that just wouldn't quit. I left immediately, walking home. It rained really hard and I was soaked. When I got up this morning my tattoo was one big swollen blur, and there was a message on my answering machine. Apparently, five minutes after I stormed out Groff called some chicks up to come party. They showed up and everybody there got laid.
Lame, right?

I wish I could say that I took this picture, but I didn't. My friend Janice is a photographer and she snapped this portrait of her cat and dog hanging together. What I find most beautiful about this image is the simplicity it conveys; a world where cats and dogs can get along. I mean honestly, if those two can be such good friends then why can't we as a people come together and co-exist peacefully?
Man. I never thought my blog would get this deep.

Boy oh boy this Spring Break has gone wild!! Last night my bros and I went out for some brews and to hook up with random dames. We got totally blasted yo!
The first bar we went to the ladies were absolutely amazing, and every single one was giving me the eye so I just threw myself out there!! I remember Groff telling me that chicks dig dudes who can dance, which prompted me to go to the jukebox, and play "Let's Dance" by David Bowie, to show everybody I meant business. It was like my feet were on fire I was moving so fast!! There was lots of room for me to cut loose; I was really hoping some sexy mama would come my way and start bumpin and grindin with me. It never happened though. (My guess? I was the only one there with red shoes on.)
I played it twice more, and when that didn't work I chose a few other tunes before making my way back to the bar. It kinda bummed me out that no chicks were fighting over me yet, but I wasn't going to let it ruin my night. I think it's pathetic how some people get upset when they're drinking and just start tossing back more brewskis, as if it'll solve their problems. I like to refer to those people as idiots.
Back to the point, the Beer Pong tournament was about to get started and Groff was my partner. We pumped ourselves up by massaging each other's shoulders (to loosen our throwing arms) because one of our opponents was Big Jeb. Big Jeb's the bar hero and some call him the "Big Kahuna" of Beer Pong, so Groff and I had a lot of massaging ahead of us. We also whispered motivational quotes in one another's ear.
By the time the tournament started, we were ready to tear that mother down, take names, and leave in a blaze of glory. We came out strong, both nailing cups our first two turns, but unfortunately we lost since Groff's good eye kept acting up. Still, I remained positive; it wasn't too late in the night AND we hadn't been kicked off the tables. We could lose another round before that would happen and, believe me, I DIDN'T want that to happen. But it did.
Since we lost the first match, Groff and I had to pound the remaining beers. After that we drank a few more in anticipation.
(Everybody knows the drunker you get the better your aim is. It's practically science, people.) Anyways, Groff never told any of us he was still taking his meds and in the middle of our second Beer Pong match he lost consciousness. The table split in half and beer went everywhere; I'm pretty sure Groff pissed himself, but he claims it was beer. Oh well. My positivity was dwindling at this point, I was feeling low, and no chicks were crowding me, so I figured I should get totally hammered. The bartender lined up three shots of Watermelon Pucker for me. I threw those suckers back like there was no tomorrow, then I ordered a water to chase them with. After that I double-fisted some High Lifes, and Big Jeb made fun of me, calling Miller beer the "Champagne of Queers."
I tried to ignore him, but that really hurt. I slugged my brewskies (this time ordering Coors) and continued slamming until I couldn't walk straight. That's when Groff woke up and yelled out "SPRING BREAK 2006! WHOOOOOOOOOO!" It totally brought me back to where I needed to be. Earl was our DD and told us it was time to go, but before we did I tried making peace with Big Jeb. I bought a pitcher and told him I forgave his comments, and that the beer was on me. He grabbed the pitcher, poured it over my head and said, "No. Now the beer's on you." I ran out of the bar crying, and from what Earl says I threw up in his backseat. All I know is I woke up on my couch naked.
Still, it was a pretty good night.
SPRING BREAK 2006!!!

How ya livin, World??

Things have been hectic lately and I haven't been able to update this bad boy as often as I wish; but like Larry the Cable Guy says, "GIT-R-DONE!!!"
So funny and yet so true. I tell ya that guy's a friggin genius. Anyways, I've been super-psyched lately for a number of reasons:

• The new Saves The Day CD just dropped!
  
• Spring Break 2006 is knocking at my door!!
  
• ISIS will be in Buffalo April 29th!!!
  

If you can't tell I'm pretty excited. I mean....fresh tunes, a week off from work, and a totally bitchin concert to end it all with; a week full of broads lined up waiting to bang, annihilating fools at Beer Pong, backyard barbecues, cold brew-doggers,unlimited DDR,Galaga, and soooo much more. Hopefully I don't get so shitfaced I forget to keep all you folks up to speed with my goings-on.

If all goes according to plan you can expect a full review of the new STD disc, photos of ISIS, and the awesome details of my drunken debauchery!

SHIT IS GONNA BE OFF THE CHAIN!

Sometimes while playing Galaga I pretend I'm Will Smith from Independence Day. That movie should've won more Oscars.

I had the privelege of taking a trip to the mall and playing DDR (Dance Dance Revolution, you losers) today. My friends all say I'm a hot-dogger cause I can take out any kid there fifteen and under. (Seriously though, I think that game should be MA-17 so people like me will actually have some competition. Stupid posers.)
Right after I finished breakin it down on Hysteria I stepped off the machine, spotting this fine honey in the Food Court. We caught eyes for a split second and I sorta blushed. Fate must have had something to do with me noticing her because she didn't budge for a good fifteen minutes. I did what any other guy would do...
I pumped a few quarters into the game and DOMINATED. One after another the contenders rose up, and one after another they all fell. In between songs I'd cast glances her way as if to tell her, "Hey Baby. Count your cards right and you just might find me sitting in a seat near you." She was totally feeling it, so I told Groff what was up.
He told me that chicks dig dudes who can dance and that if I asked for her digits, she'd be more than willing to give 'em up. This bit of knowledge blew my mind. It was time for a rest.


While taking a breather that voice in back of my head started piping up and egging me on to introduce myself to that fine honey; I started strutting over to her table.
On my way there this big jerk looking dude in a football jersey stands in my way, and with a triple cheeseburger in one hand says, "She's not interested, J-Lo. Get back to your dance game, Queerbate."
Every drop of saliva in my mouth dried up. I shrank back and returned to the arcade to get Groff and tell him it was time to go. Before I made it there I heard that same jerkface yell, "And while you're at it take a fucking shower!" which I gotta say was totally uncalled for. I mean, I'd like to see him dance for an hour and a half and NOT sweat.
I was pretty bummed out most of the ride home and, after a quick shower, I started playing Galaga because it usually calms me down. Today it wouldn't. What's worse was I kept missing all my shots, so I paused the game. Closing my eyes and taking slow, deep breaths I said to myself, "OK Dragonfly, (my nickname) you can do this. Just visualize that jerk's face as the alien ships." I counted backwards from ten before restarting the game, and when I did I WENT OFF!
Using that trick where you shoot with two ships I was taking down Galactic scum left and right!!!! By the second Challenge Stage I had rounded up 70,000 points! Sure I died a few times in the 12th round but I made it to level 16 for the first time ever, AND I got a new hi-score of 122,450!!!!!!!
Yeah. Who's gay now, Mr. Football Man?

Hands down Hondas are the fastest cars on the planet. Just the other day I was cruisin' the boulevard in my Accord, ya know bumpin some killer beats, when this chump rattles up in a Dodge Spirit. At first I didn't notice him since I was too busy looking cool, but this guy was glaring at me from the next lane. So I turned my head, slowly, to get a good look at this fool flexing on me. What I saw was some jerk wearing a wifebeater with chest hairs blazin, a smoke dangling from his mouth, and looking like he was ready to rock.
I didn't say nothing. Instead I started pumping my foot on the gas, revving the engine; heightening my cool status since I had just poked holes in my muffler a few days prior. It was real loud but I swear over it all, I heard his throat go GULP as he tried swallowing his fear. And then just before the light turned green, I cranked the stereo to give him a taste of what I was listening to...

DISTURBED, BABY! PUMPED TO THE MAXX!

It was totally sweet because right as I shifted into first, the guy in the song went "OOH-AHH-AHH-AHH-AHH!" And man did I take off! Never in my life have I been more down with the sickness than at that moment, so I peeped my rear view to see if he was gainin on me; and you know what I saw? He got so scared he took a left turn!!!
Oh man it was great. Not only did I prove how awesome Hondas are, but I made that chump second guess racing with me. I was so stoked on my ride home that I just kept playing that song, reliving the moment over and over in my mind.
I swear, if I had a girlfriend we totally would've banged!