Michael Platten
Blog
October 27, 2009
Livin’ with a view
Every morning I wake up to the golden hue of a beautiful sunrise, the lovely smell of my aromatic flowers and the shrill sounds of bums fighting over a half empty beer can. Before moving to Santa Cruz, I pictured it being this foresty haven where people chill and read books. When I finally arrived I realized it was a drug infested, homeless cluttered and violently consumed slum.
When it comes to downtown Santa Cruz, I’ve seen some crazy shit. There’s of course the regular “Umbrella Man” and the “Scarf Lady” which would, in any other city be considered peculiar. In Santa Cruz, they’re as common as your morning cup of coffee. A few weeks ago, I was walking out of the catalyst after a show, and I was almost run over by a one-legged black midget in a small wheelchair. Now, let’s take a moment to visualize this person… I think it’s safe to say that God simply does not like certain people. Sometimes for the sake of a decent life, maybe God should have a 3 strikes rule. What caught my attention with this little man was how fast he was going. I kept on looking behind me to see if GAP was having a sale for crippled, minority midgets.
I always found it interesting with people who have a fear of midgets. Does that mean that they are afraid of children as well? Or even just someone who might be sitting on their knees? Maybe there’s a height sensor that’s connected to the fear part of the brain, that goes off for anything under 5 feet. Another thing I don’t understand about the whole dwarf situation, is that, how does Disneyland get away with clear midget discrimination? I mean to put a discriminatory height limit on certain rides for paying customers. Now that’s f***’d up.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
That Guy In The Library Nathan Habib Log 2
Warning this is a true Story
I’m in the library with about forty people on the same floor as me a week before finals. I just finished studying, and I had my laptop with me. I told myself, ya know what, you deserve to just zone out and listen to some music. I put my headphones on, and I’m in my own little world. Totally zoned out and in tune with the music and myself. Ten minutes into it. Someone comes up to, takes the other end of my headphones and says, “You got to plug this into your computer bro.” Lets just pause for a second, and let me tell you what my mind was saying for exactly half a second, “No way, there is no way I had my headphones on, and everyone could hear what I was listening to.” Oh but the said reality is that they could, and they did. I told myself not to look back, because I knew if I did forty people would be looking right at me, and whisper to their friends, “Gosh, I would hate to be that guy. Do you think he knew? Maybe he was trying to be funny?” I don’t care how stupid someone felt, there is no way someone felt more stupid than me. A guy could be reading a book upside down, and look smarter than me. I’m thinking about it now. Why did that person have to tell me ten minutes into it, when he could of told me ten seconds into it? Maybe the library enjoyed the music I was listening to. All I know is next time I’ll make sure to have my headphones plugged in so no one will have to listen to Jonas Brothers featuring Hana Montana again. Now I’m done with my homework, and it’s time to open up itunes.
I’m in the library with about forty people on the same floor as me a week before finals. I just finished studying, and I had my laptop with me. I told myself, ya know what, you deserve to just zone out and listen to some music. I put my headphones on, and I’m in my own little world. Totally zoned out and in tune with the music and myself. Ten minutes into it. Someone comes up to, takes the other end of my headphones and says, “You got to plug this into your computer bro.” Lets just pause for a second, and let me tell you what my mind was saying for exactly half a second, “No way, there is no way I had my headphones on, and everyone could hear what I was listening to.” Oh but the said reality is that they could, and they did. I told myself not to look back, because I knew if I did forty people would be looking right at me, and whisper to their friends, “Gosh, I would hate to be that guy. Do you think he knew? Maybe he was trying to be funny?” I don’t care how stupid someone felt, there is no way someone felt more stupid than me. A guy could be reading a book upside down, and look smarter than me. I’m thinking about it now. Why did that person have to tell me ten minutes into it, when he could of told me ten seconds into it? Maybe the library enjoyed the music I was listening to. All I know is next time I’ll make sure to have my headphones plugged in so no one will have to listen to Jonas Brothers featuring Hana Montana again. Now I’m done with my homework, and it’s time to open up itunes.
Mike Madden, My Apartment
Being in an apartment is something that is truly wonderful. I feel some ownership to it without ever pissing all over everything. That is, other than the time I feel asleep on the couch drunk. I couldn't control my bladder. What really gets me about my apartment are Asians! For some damn reason, my apartment has turned into something close to an Asian staging area. I feel like if there was a fire on campus or some shit, they would all report to my fucking living room! Now, of course the reason Asians are occupying my valuable space at all hours is two of my apartment mates are cute Asian girls, which means a bunch of desperate messes who are Asian can't be anywhere but the Asian Clubhouse at 2203! I have learned that it is a normal thing I walk out into the kitchen and see some Asian dude completely by himself sitting there playing his Nintendo and watching some shit on the lifetime channel. And for some stupid-shit reason, all the guys that come over are either named Benny or Ben. At least it is some white name that I can remember. Shit. Even one of my roommates, who is Asian, is getting pissed off at all the desperados coming over to be whipped by the girls! I think that every time they come over, they need to bring the gift of Asian school girls and orange chicken. That would make up for them watching Hannah Montana shit in my apartment.
Blog #2: Procrastina... ooh what's that? By Eric James Barger
Well, all two of you who are reading this, it’s once again two in the morning, and I have to write another blog. I think this stands as suitable proof of my procrastination that I’m doing my stand-up comedy assignment at the very last minute. But really, I have been having a hard time actually doing my work ever since I came to UC Santa Cruz. The problem is that once I start to work, every single other thing becomes amazingly intriguing. I mean absolutely everything else becomes interesting. At one point I tried to engage my roommate in a nose picking contest. Another time, I played a daredevil game called, “What can I get away with throwing out the window?” Needless to say, I don’t get work done efficiently.
I have a much different work system than most people. Some people take breaks at every paragraph or so. I generally take breaks after each sentence, or sometimes even after each word. I asked my roommate to read my essay so far once, and this is how the conversation went.
Natan: “Read it out loud for me”
Me: “The way.”
Natan: “The way what?”
Me: “You asked me to read it out loud.”
Natan: “Oh. I hope the minimum word count is two.”
It was then that I realized that I needed to start my essay out differently, so I deleted “the way”. I then gave myself a half hour break for putting in the effort to delete those words.
Before I go, I would like to say to all you amateur procrastinators out there: there’s so much to be done with coathangers. Next time you’re writing an essay, give them a shot. Also, crushing bananas is loads of fun. So, if you are ever in my room and it smells rancid, now you know why!
I have a much different work system than most people. Some people take breaks at every paragraph or so. I generally take breaks after each sentence, or sometimes even after each word. I asked my roommate to read my essay so far once, and this is how the conversation went.
Natan: “Read it out loud for me”
Me: “The way.”
Natan: “The way what?”
Me: “You asked me to read it out loud.”
Natan: “Oh. I hope the minimum word count is two.”
It was then that I realized that I needed to start my essay out differently, so I deleted “the way”. I then gave myself a half hour break for putting in the effort to delete those words.
Before I go, I would like to say to all you amateur procrastinators out there: there’s so much to be done with coathangers. Next time you’re writing an essay, give them a shot. Also, crushing bananas is loads of fun. So, if you are ever in my room and it smells rancid, now you know why!
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