I bet...

There is a small peninsular country in the heart of the Black Sea near Northern Europe. This is the nation of Crimea. There was a famous civil war the took place there in the 19th century. There is a certain river running through Crimea. Maybe some of you see where I'm going with this... I bet at some point in time, some foreigners from the West have come to Crimea and perhaps have lost their map and bearings. I bet some have gone up to locals along said river, and asked for directions to a destination that is, unbeknownst to them, only a little ways up the river. And I bet some locals, in broken English while pointing up the river, have replied "Go Crimea River." The foreigners no doubt walked away baffled, and when prodded by friends about their experiences with the people of Crimea, had only harsh words to describe their unpleasant demeanor.

Referrals and Photo Albums

I would like to issue a warning to Adam Leclerc. I've got this site tracker that keeps track of how many people visit my site, when they visit, what pages they view, but most importantly WHERE THEY WERE REFERRED FROM. Since I can see what someone searched for if they found my page through a search engine, this has previously proved amusing. Anyway, the warning goes out to Adam because someone found my site by searching for "ADAM LECLERC" on google. They even used all-capital letters just like that, so you just know they're angry and creepy. I'm picturing someone in a dark room lit only by the glow of their computer screen, holding down "shift", then slowly and deliberately pressing each successive letter with their pointed index finger. And they're scowling. Be afraid Adam.

And also, heads up to those people who might be visiting sites like hotmalebumsex.org, and then decide to visit mine and leave a comment. I'll know. So don't. Please. I'll think I might laugh if some day I go to check how people were referred to me, and I fing that someone found me through a google search for hotmalebumsex. That would make my day. And just to clear it up, I don't know whether that site actually exists, and I'm not about to check it out. You can chance it, but I'm not.

And ooh ooh! Update on my idea! I've got a site at PictureTrail.com set up, so bookmark it! For those of you who want to add your own pics, just email/msn me and I'll send you the password! Everyone gets their own album, but try not to do repeats. Not sure how much room we get on that site, and I'm not even done with all my pictures yet, so we'll probably find out the limit soon.

I've been trying to think of a new way to sign off since I lost the rights to my preferential catch-phrase, so I figured I'd go with the saying-goodbye-in-some-other-language thing that seems to be popular with so many of the kids. Good old Altavista... Anyway, it doesn't have the same ring to it as French or Spanish, but I'll go with German.

Auf Wiedersehen! ...

Man... That sucks. Way to go German language, for making something as simple as "goodbye" into something as ugly as... those Christmas sweaters I got when I was five. Hopefully I didn't insult any Germans... or my Nanny... but I mean, come on, who speaks friggin German anyway?

Adam's probably going to forward this to the German Society at MUN or something, just to be a jerk. Or maybe to get me back for signing him up for the communist party... Hey! Adam! Has a "local representative of the communist party" contacted you yet? Huh? Have they? Ha... I crack me up.

Anyway, later guys!

Ok, as of right now, I'm getting on that whole photo album issue!

...

Ok, maybe as of right when I sober up... curse my feeble self-control!

Man, I really wish I could be going home for Easter... Apparently there's more people going home than expected, and according to Adam, "someone's making a surprise visit home". Well, I can tell ya people, it's definitely NOT Coleman, cause I think I'd probably know if he were leaving. Anyway, hope everyone has fun at home, and make sure you fill me in!

And PS, Megan is now on my email list. Yep... I guess I have a email list. So come on everyone, send in your emails and expect a reply within 6-8 weeks, cause I'm just that slack. Farewell... hombrés... Goddam. I miss my catch-phrase. Re-match Lefty? I feel so empty inside!

Lightbulb!

OK! I've got an idea!! This is for the home-front folks, so if you're part of the MUN crew, feel free to ignore this.

Ok, here's the idea:
I'll set up a Yahoo Photo account or whichever service has the most space, and everyone of Valley descent can dump ALL their KV pictures into it. If you're hardcore, you can scan some, but at the very least submit all your digital ones... I'm probably not going to be able to post the password and stuff up here, just in case some random tries to erase them all.

Anyone who's up for this, just say so, and if you know someone who doesn't read this who should know, could you tell them too? I mean peeps like keltie who don't give a good goddam enough to read this site... booooo kelt! I'd read your site if YOU had one!

...

Adam made me miss home :(

RPS defeat...

So yeah... I lost the RPS challenge. It was an intense last move though! I was analyzing our previous strategies (Adam:PRSSS ; Pat:PSSRS), and I figured that he would expect me to expect him not to throw scissors again. I anticipated this assumption would lead him to believe that I would paper, myself believing that it was a "safe play" considering no more scissors would be thrown. For this reason, he would ultimately throw scissors. To counterattack his cunning strategy, I would throw rock. I ran this by a few people who were in our room at the time, but then I doubted myself, so Coleman and I re-enacted the whole tournament up to that point while Martin watched. Now that everyone was in the zone, Martin and Coleman both said "Rock", but I was now leaning towards "Scissors", so I played a game of RPS against Coleman. The conditions were: If he won, I'd choose "Rock"; If I won, I'd choose "Scissors". Just to make matters confusing, in that primer game, I threw ROCK and he threw SCISSORS, leading me to win and throw "Scissors" against Adam. Whew... Man, that's confusing.

So I threw "Scissors", and Adam ended up throwing "Rock", and I lost. Yeah... anti-climactic, hey? The kicker's that I was trying to out-think him, being all cool and double-thinking his ass, and in the end he didn't even single think. He fuckin clicked "Rock". Period.

All that strategizing for nothing. Fuck.

My favourite poster so far...

Well, it's about 5:30 am and I've got a Psych test tomorrow/today, but I'm just so damn proud of this poster that I just finished! I've got to show it off to someone, so it may as well be you, oh faithful internet... I mean, come one! Just check out the craftsmanship. You love it.

And PS, thanks for the wicked poster Lefty! Usin' it fer shur, buuuuuhhhhhh-dee!

Note to self: Never, ever, EVER do a Pauly Shore impression again. Ever.

Poster Ideas

Just hangin out, studying in the library and I remembered that I forgot to ask for campaign poster ideas last night! I'm running for Treasurer, and as far as I know, almost anything goes. Most people go for funny/wacky things, then put up a few serious ones too. For instance, when Lovell was running for Treasurer a few years ago, one of his posters showed a picture of a little boy looking up at his mother with a glass in his hand. The caption beneath said:

"Where's the TANG, bitch?"
Vote Lovell!

Anyway, any help would be muchly appreciated! I'm looking in your direction Adam, since you ran for the same position in your house last year... Thanks guys!

UPDATE! ...That is all.

Mandy commented on that "T" at the beginning of my last post, and I just thought I'd add my own comment on that "T". That single "T", in all it's floral glory, took an additional 2.5 hours to add after I had written the post a day earlier! Let me repeat in another language for emphasis: 2.5 heures!!!! Between figuring out how to do tables in HTML to space it right, getting it the right color, getting the right background, and getting it online while Hello (the normal blogger picture uploader thing) was down... I know that last sentence was an incomplete one, but I figured that I could slip it by you guys since you'd probably forgotten how it started by the time it had ended.

Anyway, I wish I had a picture of this, but I guess I'll just explain. Coleman had some gross old food that had been in the fridge for a month, and someone else had some bread. We threw out the two loaves of bread and put some food/mush stuff in each empty bread bag. For the plan to work, Laporte and Dennis needed to be out of their room, so Jay, Coleman and Mills used one bag as a decoy ("Hey Laporte and Dennis, we're gonna 'get' someone! Wanna come??"), and the ever enthusiastic duo fell for the bait. When they left, Pete and I ran snuck out of the phone booth where we had been hiding, and crept into their room. Here, we used some tape to secure the bag of old food underneath Laporte's desk, then we stabbed it a few times with a his pen. It was left there for a few weeks, but unfortunately, with residence being so cold, it failed to ferment, and eventually just fell down. Well, it was a good idea in principle...

Anyway, found this cool thing where you can make cartoons that look like yourself. Ok... I'm a loser... It's at Abi-Station if you also have about 20 minutes to waste inappropriately. Here is me in my oh-so-awesome cartoonified form:


Due to the lack of applicable photos, I've decided to post a few random ones which relate in no way to what I've been talking about:


A sling shot we made in Pete's window to launch food at Curtis House. An utter failure, to say the least. Gravity proved a mighty opponent to our projectile food-stuffs.



Me openning my Nutrition textbook at the end of last semester, and Craig with a "bling" (for reasons unknown).



Me, Sarah, Coleman, and... Sarah's friend...? Drats. Ok listen: I was drunk for the 2nd time that night. I passed out, woke up at 11 pm, and then we all stayed up all night in the TV room, gettting drunk on a 40 ouncer of rum that Coleman had won in a raffle.



Terry wearing my clock (swindled from a wall in the Chemistry building)... again, for reasons unknown. It seemed like a good idea at the time, cause I mean, hey, what's not cool about wearing an oversized novelty clock around your neck?


And finally...

Electric Jesus!!!11
As if Jesus was not already cool enough, someone decided to give him wicked-bad lightning skills. I'm sure Christianity would have a greater following if more churches had stained-glass windows showcasing this piece of awesomeness.


Over and out I'm done.

A Birthday Story

By Patrick C_______

	.
	here once was a boy named Patrick who was having a birthday
	on Saint Patrick’s Day. Now, this special little boy wanted to
	get extra-special loaded on this wondrous day, so at 7 pm,
he went down to George Street with his friends Barker, Crewe, Fancy, and his best buddy, Coleman. They went wandering around for awhile and, after drinking some dirty Guinness in the Trinity Pub, they paid the outrageous $15 to get into Bridie Molloy’s and listen to some of those great Irish bands, which had been playing on George since 7:30 am. Yes children, I said fucking “AM”. Ante meridiem. The morning. God bless Newfoundland.

After knocking back a few drinks of that cherished green brew (a.k.a. dirty draft with dollar-store food coloring), it was deemed necessary to pull an old book off of the display case in back and begin reading it out loud. The beautiful hard-cover book by Nicholas Monsarrat was called “L-I-F-E is a Four-Letter Word” and had been published in 1966. The boys began opening the novel to random pages, yelling a line aloud, lifting their glasses, and cheersing to it with much enthusiasm, not matter what it said. The last line in the book was the best, and became their new cheersing line; "We had not asked to be born, but how glad we were!"

An older man at the next table took note of these hollering young fellows, and sent a round of free beers their way. The boys, having just been offered free booze, immediately befriended this timely old man, who was more man than timely, being only of 40 years. As it turned out, Keith Carver, as the man soon became known, was a former/present member of the Hell’s Angels motorcycle gang. After exchanging pleasantries and drunken conversation for a good half hour, the boys all received some worldly advice from good ol’ Keith (which Crewe thought appropriate to write on the ripped-out last page of “L-I-F-E is a Four-Letter Word”); “Always learn more than you need to know.” Perhaps these well-spoken words originally applied to the drug trade, but each boy found profound personal meaning in his respective heart.

On arriving at the place they called home, the boy named Coleman passed out in bed, hammered out of his fucking mind. He would wake up to learn that he did not remember the journey home. The boy named Patrick ventured to the campus bar, the Breezeway, only to pass out on a table and wake up to find the bouncers escorting him off the premises. Since he had dozed off with his cell phone open in his hand, the battery had died while he slept, so he was unequipped to call anyone who might have been able to get him back in. He stumbled home, and then passed out on Rebecca’s bed.

The End.

VIDEO: Fancy just MSN'ed this to me, so I figure everyone ought to see this Spiderman guy...

Damn commies!

I hate to say it, but mine and Adam’s RPS challenge has slowed down a bit lately. It was supposed to be once a day until someone won best out of 3, but then shit happened and I became a lazy communist. And I realize that this has nothing to do with communism... but sometimes, communists are just funny. That reminds me: Lefty, remember when I asked you for your mailing address earlier today? Sorry to say that I officially signed you up to be an active member of the Communist Party of Canada. Seriously. You "will be contacted shortly by a representative in your area to discuss your application for membership or to supply you with the information requested." Now I can call you a lousy commie and there ain’t nothing you can say about it! Go me! Only cause you’re awesome Adam!

Here’s the actual results from our Rock, Paper, Scissors tournament:
I started off by unleashing a PAPER on Adam, along with the message: "I just through paper... Or did I?!?!" He took a gamble and also played PAPER, leading to a tie. Next, I cunningly threw SCISSORS, but he flipped the situation around and threw ROCK, causing my strategy to backfire. Next, looking to play off of his assumptions that I wouldn’t dare play the same thing twice after losing, I played SCISSORS again, but he blocked with a clever throw of SCISSORS too. So the current score is one to nothing for Lefty. We decided that, until a winner has been declared, the phrase in question is taboo for the both of us. Below is the breakdown of the tournament so far:


Ok... I lied... It was never an intense diagram...

Long time, no blog

Previously, I gave the impression that Burke formal was going to be ridiculous and, true to my word, it was ridiculous. Words of warning: this might be a long post...

Since my night is a little sketchy in the memory banks, the easiest way to go about explaining it is to use all the places in which I hurt as reference points as to the events of the evening. Here they are:

1. Right knuckles
2. Left arm
3. Upper back
4. Lower back
5. Right palm

Numbers 1 and 2 can be explained by the idiotic competition that Laporte got into with a few people. Basically, it was exchanging punches for 15 minutes until someone made us all stop. Laporte would punch each of the competitors in the arm, then we would each punch him once. I have a rather large welt. At one point, I even told Rob Parsons to punch me in the shoulder. Thankfully for me, he wouldn't do it. For those who don't know Rob, I believe Mitch put it best: "If Rob had punched you, your arm would have turned to dust." And I have no doubt of this. Someone intentionally hit him in the knee with a car last term and when the driver got out to lay some more punches, Rob wrapped his scarf around the guy’s throat and started wailing on him. When an even bigger dude got out of the car, Rob (still with the scarf around the guy’s neck) used the guy as a human shield as the big dude tried to punch him, while punching around the shield guy. ALL WITH A DISLOCATED KNEE. Wow. That’s all I have to say…

My upper back (3) hurts from doing forward rolls down the hall of the lobby with Erin. I assume that there is a way to do a roll gracefully, but I know that it is not do-able when the alcoholic content of your body is probably somewhere near 80 proof…

My lower back hurts because when we got back to Burke, a bunch of people were hanging out in Laporte and Dennis’ room. Their room is pimped out. One of its features is a hammock suspended from one side to the other through holes that Laporte drilled in the concrete walls. The hammock was strong, the walls were strong, the hooks were not. Well, at least they were not Wayne-proof. Erin and I were in the hammock and Wayne started shaking it, so both hooks bent at the same time and we all plummeted to the floor. I’m amazed we survived, since it’s suspened with the hooks drilled in about a half a foot below the ceiling. And oh yeah, I landed on my brother, which leads me to the next point…

My right palm hurts from my brother and I doing power high-fives in the halls at like 2 AM. We’d run full speed down the hall toward one another, yelling at the top of our lungs and just LAY INTO a full-fledged high-five. It’s pretty painful…

And yeah, I feel I need to emphasize this: Getting trashed with my brother was wicked! You heard me Chris! He flew up from SJ for his march break, and it was a fuckin’ awesome time. I love you, brother! You better come here to university next year Chris…

The whole house got kicked out of the Hotel Saint John’s for doing some of the following: hot-boxing a bathroom, disturbing the other residents with noise level, Wayne almost getting in a fight with the hotel manager when he asked Wayne if he would like to “take it outside”, ripping a toilet off the wall, and forcing the catering staff to watch “dirty smut”. I take offence to that last one, cause that “smut” was the slideshow and it took a whole lot of damn time to make. Lemonparty.org may or may not have made an appearance…

I’m working on getting some free webspace so that I can post up some videos, so I’ll update on that it I can get it. So, in continuing the trend of ending every paragraph in ellipses…

UPDATE (6:12 am): Videos are in my Yahoo Briefcase, but since it’s only for private viewing, I’ll give you a name and password that I signed up for. The login is “greatbigllama” and the password is “password”. Knock yaself out; erase stuff if you wanna be a jerk, and you might as well add some gay porn while you’re at it, cause I already hate you. Later! Drats. The sun’s up.

Apologies

Sorry about the slackification of my blog, but I'll be sure to have an updated post up ASAP after our formal on Saturday night, so probably Sunday when my liver has detoxified my brain and body enough for me to type. Stay tuned, cause I'm sure it will be full of drunken Burke House antics, sure to please everyone. Until then, Mitch and will be toiling away on the slide/video show! I'm told that last year, Lovell and Mitch slept on their keyboards while working on it. Maybe I'll tape a pillow to the bottom of my keyboard. That way, I can just flip it and nap...

Before I start studying, I've got to say:

MY BROTHER'S COMING UP TO VISIT IN A WEEK AND WE'RE GETTING TRASHED! You heard me Chris...

Morning plows are out...

Where did the phrase "letting the cat out of the bag" come from? Who keeps cats in bags, anyway? I believe that PETA should be notified immediately, and that all cats should be released from their baggy confines at once.

Just kidding. I hate cats. I curse every time that someone lets out a secret, because I know that somewhere... somehow... a cat has escaped.

Games, Sweet Spots, and Shredded Paper

So I invented a new game today. Keeping with the normal game-naming format, it is called the Waving Game. It’s fun to play in dining hall when there are lots of people. You simply pick out a random person on the other side of the room and start waving to them very obviously. Eventually, they look at you and try to figure out whether you are waving at them or not, because they have no clue who you are. It is key that you keep clear eye contact with them, even after the point at which it would normally be awkward. The game kind of climaxes when they look behind them (which they always do)... Yeah, it doesn’t get any more exciting then that. While playing this game though, I realized that the action of waving is a lot like saying a word like “dog” over and over again. It just starts to make no sense after awhile, and becomes simply a jerky arm movement.

Speaking of jerky arm movements (not really), I’ve got to ask: Has anyone ever found the sweet spot while lying down? The sweet spot is a position for your arm that you can find that requires little or no energy to maintain, which is sooo relaxing. It’s when your arm is pointing straight up (vertically) into the air. It works a little better when you’re slightly on your side. I introduced Terry to the sweet spot and he loved it.

Believe it or not, I once found the sweet spot with my whole body. I know… you’re jealous. I was unwittingly sitting on my bed and Coleman was on his side of the room. All of a sudden, I notice that I felt kind of funny. Then I realized that it was because I was sitting up and completely relaxed! You wouldn’t notice how many muscles it normally takes to sit straight up, that is, until you’re not using them. Ah… I remember it so well: I had my head leaned back and to the left, with my right leg positioned Indian style in front of me forming a notch that my forearm was wedged perfectly into. You shoulda been there! Coleman shared my enthusiasm up until the point where he started poking me and I lost my place, due to my spastic tickle-induced-reflex flailing (STIRF)... I’ve got a terrible case of STIRF. What? Hey, I figure that if I give my condition a name, people will take it more seriously. Hey, it worked for ADD…

One of the things that happened recently was that we filled Erin and Leslyanne’s room with shredded paper. Yep… the whole thing. As I was leaving the Chemistry and Education buildings through the maintenance doors last term, I would always collect bags of it to bring back and put in the trunk room. By last week we had about 11 or 12 huge bags of it (though it was 19 after we re-bagged it following its use). Below are some pictures of me and Coleman, and of the wall. It was naval-height when flat over the whole room, but we later made a big wall right up to the ceiling. Coleman dug a tunnel through it and a bunch of people crawled through to the other side and hung out! It was kinda fun. Erin and Lesleyanne weren’t even pissed when they got home and realized that we had gotten them back. This was the pay-back for flipping a bunch of posters in Martin’s (prez) room, plus how else were we supposed to get rid of the paper?







Hey guess what Valley-friends! I submitted the term “debbie” to urbandictionary.com! It is now official, if not by Websters, than by me. Might take awhile for them to put it up...

Note: I wish I could taste music...

The Water Game

Made up something called the water game tonight. This game entails pouring water from our Brita under someone's closed door, then knocking on it. When they say come in, you jiggle the knob as if it's locked. This way, they have to get up to open it. Then they -- wait for it... -- step in the water!!! Ha ha! It never gets not funny...

Openning Doors

For most of today, before opening any doors in the house, for which I would normally need to use my keys to open, I would throw my keys at the keyhole first. I mean, the chance is VERY small, but the way I see it is that there is a finite probability that my keys will go right in the hole. With my mad aiming skillz though, there is probably a much higher probability that I will throw them under the locked door, and thus render them irretrievable. I guess I'll just have to take that chance, cause how else will I ever throw my keys in the keyhole if I don't try? Jay says it's a stupid idea, but fuck Jay. Just kidding. Jay, you rock! The distinction between me saying that and me saying "Jay, you: rock!" should be duly noted.

I'll have a sensible post up when I get time... Later!

Bring it Lefty!

Not much to say cause I'm really busy lately, but I'd just like to mention that I have sent out an email to a certain Adam Leclerc, to resolve our issue. It reads as follows:

To Adam Leclerc:

This message has been issued to decree, under the laws of fair conduct, that I, Patrick C_____ C_______ (henceforth known as PCC) of St. John's, Newfoundland, do hereby challenge the recipient, Adam Sean Leclerc of Freddy Beach, New Brunswick, to a deciding game of Rock Paper Scissors. Upon proper reply, this written agreement shall be upheld under the agreement that the loser (Out of 3) shall relinquish all catch-phrases, including but not limited to "A-town". The rules shall also hold for the phrase "Peace out", though only when used in conjunction with the aforementioned phrase. Each round shall be held on successive days, on the initiation by PCC via electronic mail. This statement, on appropriate reply, shall be honoured as express written consent in all courts of law...g. Yes... courts of lawg.

PS - I've taken the liberty of choosing paper... or have I?!

Stuff HAS been going on lately -- Lots of picture-worthy things -- but due to certain constraints, I'll hold off on a real post till later.
Peace out. A-town.