Subterranean Beefworks

Sexy

Today was an outstanding walk to dinner and back. I brought my camera with the intention to have a little fotofeature for Beefworks, so j'all could see where I live 'n shit. It turns out nature and the universe were prepared to put on a great show for me. The pictures that follow rather suck compared to what I saw with my eyes, but there are some nice ones. Sorry about the low resolution, but there is only so much webspace.

It began with some shots out of my window. The third floor of Warren C is uncannily similar to submarine life. With skanky, low-pressure showers, toilets that choke and struggle pitifully through flushing, narrow hallways, and stifling temperatures, the one saving grace is my lovely view.

The Hotel Bethlehem is out there. I want to go there someday. How sleezy of me.

And down towards the road. My window makes me want to be a flying squirrel.

This is our stoop. Many a stranger has been met and charmed by its power. It's easily one of the best places to chill.

You'll see this building (Admissions) as you enjoy the stoop. With the crickets, the passing cars, the few visible stars, and the smell of cigarette smoke, it is easy to see how one gets lost in the experience of sitting outside.

I have philosophy in the balmy, unairconditioned quarters of this building. It's real pretty though.

A place for tossing the pleather and walking through. We found 2 cases of vanilla coke and a pair of white women's underwear by the emergency phone.

Someone shoved me into this and said some stuff about cultural differences before stabbing me. I thought I would take the picture for posterity.

This is basically our dining hall.

This is where the trip starts getting weird. There were suddenly two cats on the prowl, probably hunting or exploring or some such thing that cats do.

I followed him for a while...

...and met his friend. But they pretty much kept to themselves.

How rude of me to be so invasive.

This is some yogurt that I didn't buy. I did get some burger king though.

After food, I made my way back to Warren. Hoping to find some good pictures, I took the long way home through the Admissions yard. Here is when the trip turned awesome....

As I made my way down the walkway, I came upon a discarded camera lense. Always fascinated by anything manufactured with precision, I picked up the lense thinking I had found a cool little item. It had these weird dimples in the glass, presumably for creative picture effects. I tried to be creative myself and took some pics with it...

How symbolic...mmmmm

How stark...mmmmm

I wasn't satisfied with my attempts at creativity, so I hung out on some steps for a bit, wondering if there was anything I could do with this lense that would look good in a picture. I rolled it off a stair, I examined it, I diddled with it, but I was out of ideas.

Then I heard a female voice. She was on a phone, speaking anxiously to someone on a cellphone. I walked back up the stairs, rolling possibilities around my head, thinking that she probably had something to do with the lense. I approached her from a few meters away, lense held forth hesitantly in one hand. She looked at me, first as a stranger, but then as "some guy who has it, some guy" who "found it!" as she told her mom on the phone who was helping her freak out.

And thus was my first kiss at Lehigh. A grateful hug and a peck on the cheek for finding her lost camera lense.

It's not every day you get to be a hero, so I really enjoyed trumping this up for all of you. I love when shit like this happens. Inclination after inclination, after another inclination put everything together and I was able to feel like King Shit for a day. Hells. Yeah.

F 0 0 Z

This summer my competative spirit was reborn through the coaxing of street hockey.

But I question whether any amount of hockey could've prepared me for basement foosball in Warren C (my home). Right arm is sending dull pangs of soreness through my shoulder, my shirt is soaked, my hair is in sweaty fronds, and my heart rate refuses to settle. GOD DAMN is it fun. I earned myself a bit of a reputation in the beginning, for my Spirit of the Winds Vortex Hurricane Strike which scored a great many goals, but my friends have caught up and now we're on even ground.

Racketball has been the other event. I suck excruciatingly. So that's not worth mentioning.

Andere Nachrichten, ich habe viel verlernt. Ich kann weniges deutsch mehr sprechen, aber ich freue mich auf wieviel ich heute verstanden habe.

My name is Dan. It's a pleasure.

I don't think I've had an entry as true to the "life." category as this one. I've arrived at Lehigh University in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania; I've unpacked; I've put some miles on my shoes exploring; and I've had my face and manner entered into the minds of a good 100 people or so.

If you've been with me since Erasmus, or more recently Xanga, you know how quick I was to harangue about RIT and the hilarious joke that was its campus and student body. Well, it turns out I was right. I now compare it to the beautiful campus of Lehigh, the almost cinematically beautiful women, the general friendliness of everyone, and I am baffled that a campus such as RIT can even survive. Enough comparison though.

My roommate is really cool fellow. Although he and I come from completely unrelated backgrounds (he grew up near NYC under the tradition of strict chinese upbringing) we're hitting it off quite well. We respect eachother, and it's working out wonderfully.

I've also made strong aquaintences with the RA (gryphons as they're called, referring to the mythological beings that were apparently "keepers of the gold," aka students.) I might even get a job at the climbing wall through him, and join him in the outing club that he runs.

I take great pride in saying that I have to close this entry early because I'm going to a freshman room inhabited by cute girls. Mwhahaha!!

By request

So who is Patrick Chan? Well for starters, he's the guy I'm living with next year. Uhhh

i'll finish this entry later.

Wataru wa mizu ga hoshii.

So Wataru wants some water? Well hell with him. He never did me any favors.

Today I found out just how cool pressure washers are. My job for today was to aqua-blast the fore and aft porches of the house, as well as the mildew-caked cedar shingles of the back of the house. It is easy to default to the opinion that firing high velocity water at grime all day and getting soaked with whatever the splashback carries with it would make for a shoddy day. But I tell you this: when you're in control of a rifle-shaped hose nozzel that can bore a hole in a piece of wood 2 inches thick, the testosterone never stops pumping. I think "water torch" is the best way to describe this device. Tossing karma to the wind at one point, I turned my torch on an earwig that thought it would be cool to take his ass pinchers to my calf. He was flicked off, placed upon a rock, and was explained just was PSI stands for. He has not been seen since.

The lightbulb above the stove hood burned out last night. Burnt-out lighbulbs would be perfect to develop and hone telekenesis. It has been said that we all have the cabability to move matter with the power of the mind, our abilities, however, astronomically slight. But a lightbulb filament, so extraordinarily fragile and girthless, would make a perfect object to practice on. There could be enrichment camps off in the wilderness at which potential individuals would meditate before expired lightbulbs. They would focus the meager physical strength of their minds to move one end of the broken filament until it made contact with the other end, causing a brief flash of light as the circuit was closed.
The masters would sit in huts, brightly illuminated by broken lightbulbs whose filaments were held in place only by the strength of the master's mind.

Buzz

Calamary.

You know your mom is cool when she and her coworkers draw your blood for recreational purposes. My mom works in a hospital as a medical technician. She does tests on people's blood, paternity testing, all sorts of things of that sort. And one recent afternoon, she had no work and i had no employment so with a little nagging, she convinced me to see her place of work.

Her coworkers are awesome. There is so much personality in those labs that I wish I could just go there and hang out since I have nothing to do during the day. If the identity of people's father's and identifying presence of disease in people wasn't at stake, I would drive up with a friend and 3 sixpacks and just chill with the technicians of Endless Mt. Health Systems. They're a bunch of feisty, sharp witted and coarse-mouthed people who make the best out of looking at people's extracted blood all day. It's awesome.

As it turns out, I have really healthy blood. My hemoglobin is exceedingly satisfactory, my lymph is in check, my white cells are in check, I've got thick dark blood. Look at me sometime and take a moment to lose yourself in my arm-veins. Know that my blood is rich and nutritious, delivering health to my dutifully throbbing organs.

I splurged today. I relapsed. I returned to the mindset I've been casually avoiding for much of my time this summer and back through sophmore year at RIT. I indeed bought computer shit. Lots of it.

Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, but I've been sitting on this $1000 birthday nest egg since May which was supposed to go to a car, or to a trip to China, or something much more worthwhile than a pile of computer shit. However, since I realized that my "upgraded" computer was in fact a piece of barely functional garbage (thanks Mr. Unnamed-individual-from-an-apartment-in-rochester), I decided that upgrading was necessary. Hopefully my stuff will arrive soon, and arrive functional. There will then supercede a nice entry about how fun it was to urinate on my current motherboard, and how much my corsair memory urinates on whatever the fuck is choking away in there now.

Shit. Enough entry for now. I have a foul mouth.

Matt! Yes it's from a ween concert. I got it from Chocodog. Still working on the Time Traveler storage issue. At worst, I'll have space for you on August 22nd.

Foreskin? Calamary?

Dear Diary,

Hi! How are you? I'm fine. It's been a fun summer, huh. Sorry I haven't written to you in a while, things have been both really busy and really boring. I met this great girl at summer camp named Frischesca (call her Frissy, hehe) from Finland who is a really good swimmer. I can't believe all the fun I've had at camp. Who would have ever thought I would have a dutch oven race!? or a BEAN eating contest!? LOL it's been a blast. neway, Frissy and I are really getting close and I'm kind of nervous. I mean, I've never "done" it before and I think she's "been there, done that" and I just don't know how I should act. She taught me the finnish word for...ya know..wanting...like....LOL i am such a dork. I can't even say the word. Ya know....like when cats aren't fixed and they start screaming and stuff...yeah that. She taught me the finnish word for what it is when guys are like that: "Mulla stondaa" HAHAH isn't that the funniest thing? gross though! (blushing!) The other one she taught me was "vittujen kevŠt ja kyrpien takatalvi" with means 'Oh spring of cunts and cold spell of pricks' which she says is what you say when you're really grossed out or mad about something. I don't want to look up what "cunts" and "pricks" is though, because Brad, the CA (cabin assistant) got all weird when I asked him. I bet its something totally gross. LOL finnish is funny though. I am blabbinging so much diary HAHAH sorry about that. You are such a good listener though, probably because you can't talk back LOL. neway, yeah. so summer has been a blast. My friend Randy and these other guys drew on my face when I was sleeping, it was funny. I didn't even know until after morning calistenics when Frissy was doing that thing when you pretend you have something on your face to trick someone into thinking there's something on their own face, and then Brad took me to the sports shed to tell me I should go wash my face.
OH chinkies i gotta go. We only get like 10 minutes on the computer and everyone is yelling that my mom is on the phone. MOM you don't need to call me at CAMP! geez. neway, I hope we talk again soon. Love ya Diary!

I really love my sister.

I really love my sister.

The house smells like overcooked eggs.

But the smell is coming from inside of my own head.

I needed to do a lot more with this summer on the life-administration side. One day, after I get a real good night's sleep, I'll wake up refreshed and do some important things that I have to do. Bah. What a fucking waste of heartbeats. I am utterly fried.

Earlier in the summer, I dug up a bunch of old VHS tapes that I used to do a lot of recording on. On them include such classics as the network TV premier of Terminator 2, some Red Dwarf episodes, some Sifl and Olly episodes, a bunch of Rocko's Modern Life, about 20 minutes of fuzzy Cinemax porn, two episodes of Great Chefs which aired on Discovery Daytime (meant to record over an hour's worth of further fuzzy Cinemax porn), and nearly 3 hours of morning news casts, apparently recorded by my mom for some reason. These videos keep me company as I'm trying to sleep, trying to wake up, or am trying to shuffle back a few inches from the edge of boredom-bred insanity.

I think I want to surrender my girl-liking licence too. Having seen the beginning and the end a couple times now, I can't seem to find enough faith that my personal wavelength will ever coincide properly with someone else's. New college is coming soon and all, but even once I get there I don't plan on giving a shit. I'm really tired of how seemingly thin the line is that holds the feelings of a girl to a guy. I don't even want to go into the details of my opinion, but suffice it to say that to trust a girl is to trust the weather. There is just too much that has to line up for two people to really be into eachother.

Did I say a single word in this post? Did I wake up more than 6 times this entire summer? How many times have I actually breathed in? It has all become a big messy smear.

Wenn mein Mund nur weniger Worten zurückhaltet.

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