Thursday, March 27, 2008

The Many Faces of NJ

Hey! I'm blogging on this blog, right when I'm SUPPOSED to be blogging on my official blog! Is that irony or just an unfortunate coincidence? I'm still a little stuck on the difference.

I just finished this blue rockstar, and I appear to be having the shakes. It seems that whatever tolerance I developed to caffeine has left me high and dry. Damned body!

Um, anyway..., so I realized something about this blog. I'm doing a pretty bad job with it. I have a couple different modes in life. There's the standard, positive, day-time NJ. The much less positive, desparately grasping at straws, 2AM NJ. And, of course, the superhero NJ with secret decoder ring and x-ray goggles.

Anyway, I think this blog turned into the 2am NJ show by mistake at some point. All my typical humor seems not to be present.

Talk about some bullshit!

Sorry, dirty-mouthed NJ just got through. I tell you. That guy...

Screw you!

Right! That's it!


And I'm back. I forgot what I was talking about. OH, I let depressed, grasping at straws NJ take the reins too much. I mention the grasping at straws part, because that bit of me seems certain that I have hardly any options in life, zero women are interested in me, and I will never reproduce.

Whether I, happy (and currently hyped-up) NJ, agree with him is certainly a big question mark, but the fact of the matter is that I don't get so depressed about the whole affair. I figure that if something is going to happen, it will eventually. If not, then I'll just donate some sperm to a sperm-bank at age 40 and hope for the best. Who knows? Maybe some nice lesbian couple out there would be interested in kids with a bright dad with an ear for the piano. Who wants to leave THEM high and dry, I ask you? Probably HITLER would. And I am NOT Hitler.

Also, to the best of my knowledge, I don't hate gypsies or the Jewish religion, culture, or populace.

Nor clowns. Even if I am scared of clowns. And Hitler. And President Lincoln's ghost who lives in the basement of my old farmhouse.

Long story on that last one.

Anyway, I'm going to make a renewed effort to have the positive NJ post to this site for the foreseeable future.

Until next time...

Friday, March 21, 2008

Russian Brides

You know what would make life a great deal easier? A Russian bride.

I was watching this movie. IMDB calls it either "A Foreign Affair" or "Two brothers and a Bride" I'd call it ok at best. Not a great movie, not ridiculously terrible. I couldn't figure out what the point of it was, really, but I still didn't hate it.

Anyway, the plot is all about how these brothers need a wife, because they live on a farm and their ma died. It's not a sex thing. It's a "who's gonna do the dishes now?" thing.

Like I said, for the most part, take the movie, leave the movie, who cares? The only thing I really took away from it was how ridiculously straightforward the mail-order bride thing is.

Seriously. No red tape. No wondering if she does or does not like you. Sure, the issue of getting along and having anything in common might come up, but those are problems AFTER marriage.

Would it be cheating to skip all that? Is this trying to establish love thing really all that useful?

I don't really know. The only thing I'm sure of is how tired of it all I am. It should come as no surprise to anyone out there that mine is not the firmest of spines. I wilt quickly and easily. I see my weight displayed prominently in a photo, and I am totally without words for coming up with a reason a woman would be interested in me. Similarly low self-esteem? The desire to settle, maybe?

So wouldn't it be so much easier to marry a woman named Oxana or Olga?

Of course, going that route would be the ultimate admittance of defeat. I couldn't do that until I'd been earning money for a few years and had COMPLETELY convinced myself that the weight just is not coming off. After that, though, smooth sailing.

I saw D yesterday. I'm not sure if I've used other abbreviations before. She's the girl I think of as my Sally (Of When Harry Met Sally). If I were ever to end up with someone whom I had know for years and years, it'd almost certainly be her. We don't always agree on everything - she's more conservative and religious than I am for example - but we seem to get along so well.

In fact, as I think about it, she really seems to be like a sharper-edged version of our very own kee, as I think on it. Plus, I'm pretty sure - with her - that, when the right woman came along, I would have no problem saying, "No thanks. I'm married."

That's not very descriptive, is it? Well, no matter. As I was saying, I saw her. We sat around. Drank a little. I met one of her coworkers.

And the whole time I found myself wondering if our friendship, to her, is just an unusually long lasting long-distance friendship. There's no When Harry Met Sally. There's no wondering if and/or when this was going to happen. There's only totally safe NJ.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Kansas English

So some guys are working on a light by the bookstore. It's in a pretty inaccessible place and doesn't look like a lot of fun.

Anyway, one of them just said, "Probly ain't never been dealt with 'til now."

The question I have is, where do people learn how to talk that way? "Ain't never"? I mean, Kansas is known for having a very neutral dialect. With the possible exception of pin/pen and crayon/crown, we just don't deal with a lot of accent around here. (Also, among old people, "warsh.")

I think I'm going to blame Oklahoma and Missouri on this one. Somehow, all the blue collar folk from down and over there get imported to Kansas, where they seek to destroy our clean dialect.

Whether that is a bad thing, of course, is another issue. Language does change based on the efforts of the poor and the lower, middle class, so I guess I should just learn to accept that improper English is the wave of the future.

How do I show my support? I dont no! lolz! wut r u gunna do?