Open Mic Night

Open Mic Night

So I decided to perform at this Saturday's open mic night by doing a spoken word poem that was originally written and performed by Mike McGee. He came to campus a couple years ago and I've been following him avidly since. I have no idea who's going to be there though because most of the people I hang around with that I want to hear it aren't going to be in town for it. So I hope the strangers are entertained. Makes me miss getting ready for plays in high school. It's a unique feeling. I'm also performing a humorous monologue written by a friend of mine online.

You're no son of mine...

Video of the Day

Here's another poet to get you in the mood for Saturday

Penny for your Thoughts - Gemineye

The story of El Techador

The night is cool as it wanes to yield to the morning rays, distantly birds sing a morning proclamation, and in the large bed at 516 W. 8th St. a man sleeps. He is dreaming of far off places filled with beautiful women, exotic locations and magical abilities. A light breeze from his open window tussles his hair as he takes another deep relaxed breath.

When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter. This was far above him, but no Santa Claus. An air raid perhaps? The hit broadway musical Stomp!? Gary Busey?

He arose to peer out his window only to come face to face with a 30ft long industrial grade dumpster. As his mind was starting to join his body in a mutual alertness level, he began to put the pieces together. Something his landlord said yesterday about a fabled beast coming to terrorize college students in the wee hours of the morn. Yes...El Techador had descended on Bearcat village. He had heard stories of the terrors from the village across the street and had merely shrugged them off.

The fool.

He grabbed the window sill and slammed it down with a resounding thud that still paled in comparison to the now regular slamming of debris as El Techador destroyed the top of the apartment. Bigger and bigger pieces until the very shelter meant to keep out the harshest of midwestern weather was sheared away. Far away he could make out what he thought was music but was in a tongue that he'd never encountered before. This was hell. He felt bad for the lasses up the stairs but this was survival and it was better them than he. Grudgingly he took a swig from his flagon of NyQuil, covered his head with many layers of down and went back to sleep.

And so ends the tale of El Techador. Take heed traveller, for one knows not when the beast will strike and ruin thine afternoon nap.

I have a weird life

THE BATMAN SHIRT

This morning as I was walking to class, a college guy that I've honestly never seen before remarked to me,"weren't you wearing that shirt last night?".

.....

"Umm...no?"

I mean...I did wear this shirt earlier this week but laundry day is wednesday and it's only a t-shirt. The worst part is he said it with such disdain as he was wearing white socks under his flip-flops.

ODE TO SHADOWMERE

As many of you do, I like to partake in the nerdy delight that is Skyrim on occasion. Once you complete the Assassin's Guild quest line, you get the demon horse Shadowmere. And he really can't die except off huge cliffs or giants with clubs. And he has glowing red eyes.

Pretty freaking cool.

Well the other day I was raiding a base and when I came out he was dead. I have no idea how these lowly bandits killed him but they did. The bastards! I was legitimately distraught for my make-believe horse. I looked online but they all said once he was dead you couldn't get him back. I checked the autosaves but I had just deleted a bunch so I couldn't go back. So I quit playing...

...then a glimmer of hope. An online board said that if you wait 30 days he'd be alive again.

ALAS! It was true and I just found my horse again. So regardless of that weird stalker this morning, there is some good that has come from today.

THE PATH LESS TRAVELLED

Anyone who has known or lived around me for more than a few weeks knows that when the weather is nice, I like to go out and walk in the evenings. And since I'm an insomniac, that of course means midnight-ish. Campus is usually the best place to walk because you less like a creepy guy walking at night and more like a student coming back from some random study session. I also usually avoid brooding looks or dark alleys to reinforce that image :/

The last two nights I've went on looong walks and I realized how much I've missed doing it over the winter. It really gives you a chance to clear your mind. I'm the classic over-thinker that tries to hide it vehemently, so it gives me the chance to get out of my own head for awhile and relax. I think it's an innate reaction from being outside in nature.

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"To read between the lines was easier to that to follow the text. "

-Henry James