tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34732042011-04-21T14:56:21.829-05:00everyone needs a lifeeveryone needs a lifeJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.comBlogger1211100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1112339501527133742005-04-01T01:10:00.000-06:002005-04-01T01:11:41.526-06:00Happy April Fools, everyone; as you can see, it JUST turned April the 1st here in Chicago, so, as far as I'm concerned, I'm still pretty far ahead of the game. This is my old blog, for anyone who is vaguely interested. Normal service will resume some time on April the 2nd. If you all cannot stand it and want me back straight away, feel free to comment. I'm not expecting many comments.Alright, J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1110866974751943112005-03-15T00:09:00.000-06:002005-03-15T00:09:34.753-06:00In reply to a comment on my xanga regarding the merits of lj / whatever other service you might use, I have decided to explicate my switch (or rather return) to blogger:True, LJ is cool; however; I've discovered a couple nice things about blogger:a) Site customizability. With all those templates, you can't go wrong, man! I originally picked minima black (which is ok) but then, over spring break, J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1110796144229350042005-03-14T04:29:00.000-06:002005-03-14T19:41:16.946-06:00I've decided that, instead of having a whole bunch of different journals, I should just stick to one. I mean, I love being read, and I love all your comments, but man, it's kind of stupid of me to be publishing on xanga, livejournal AND blogger, right? I'm starting a new blog, aptly titled 'The Big Fuck'; the URL is http://bigfuck.blogspot.comYes, that's http://bigfuck.blogspot.comIt's not up yetJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1110590378123784582005-03-11T19:18:00.000-06:002005-03-11T19:30:35.383-06:00Skipped class today. Every time I do something like this, I can hear my mother's voice in the back of my head, telling me to wake up, before I fail out of school, become a drug addict, end up cleaning rubbish, etc, etc, etc. This makes me unhappy. At the moment I'm looking for something to blame for my errant behaviour. I have decided on blaming the fact that I'm quitting smoking.Quitting smokingJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1110346635450559462005-03-08T22:45:00.000-06:002005-03-08T23:37:15.453-06:00After seeing Wendy Cheng's blog (you know, the world-famous http://xiaxue.blogspot.com - best Asian blog of 2004, ok!) I have become damn depressed at having such a small readership; I now vow to revamp my blog (eventually) and put in lots of awesome anecdotes about my super-exciting (at least, according to some of the rumours that have been going around) life and also many pictures of myself (J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1110227472583798352005-03-07T14:31:00.000-06:002005-03-07T14:31:12.586-06:00Fatty bom boms are damn groooosssssss (sorry, fatties!)What is up with people who wear those bare midriff things when they have little bulges sticking out? I think it's damn disgusting. I mean, I guess I'm damn mean to fat people in general, but seriously, nobody wants to see these rolls of blobby, springy, fatty things going boing boing boing all over the place, right? I wonder how fat people J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1110099560599877912005-03-06T02:59:00.000-06:002005-03-06T02:59:38.806-06:00I am hungry.I'm sitting in front of my computer (I've been doing this far too often lately; it's alarming - I really don't want to be a dork, you see) with a bag of rock candy, but I don't want more sugar. I can feel my stomach walls imploding.Some days I am a hungry monster and I have to eat. That's what hungry monsters do. It's a hard life being a hungry monster - you open your fridge and look J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1109840305533850602005-03-03T02:54:00.000-06:002005-03-03T02:58:25.533-06:00I got quite a bit of work done today. Then I met the Singaporeans at Jimmy's. I had, like two beers. They were in really small cups. I bet each cup was, like, maybe half a small bottle. The girl at our table probably had more alcohol than I did. At the bar, I mean. I came home, and felt like I hadn't drank anything, so I drank another beer. Then I drank another beer. Then, I drank a third beer. J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1109749572830339322005-03-02T01:46:00.000-06:002005-03-02T01:46:12.833-06:00Fire Fist!So I just watched a bunch of wushu clips from www.wushucentral.com and I'm thoroughly convinced that I will never be any good at this stuff; it doesn't mean that I'm going to give up, I'm just acknowledging that wushu will, at best, be yet another one of the ways in which I flutter but never fly, much like Japanese (and other random languages), drawing, mixing drinks, cooking, writing, J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1109650062869214102005-02-28T22:07:00.000-06:002005-02-28T22:07:56.596-06:00Today is the first day in ages that I (hopefully) will not have a cigarette. It's a momentous occasion; the last day like it was back in first year, in the height of the quit smoking program with free nicotine patches and whatnot. At the moment, I'm drinking a Bitgurger, chowing down on some white rabbit candy, and, in general, feeling pretty miserable. Admittedly, there's work I could be doing.J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1109550821482727022005-02-27T18:33:00.000-06:002005-02-27T18:33:41.483-06:00My house makes noises when I'm alone at night. It somehow neglects to make these noises at other times, or perhaps it does, only to be drowned out by the constant hum of my computer, by the incessant ringing of the cellphone.My house makes noises in the quiet solitary hours asleep on my couch; there's the sound of scurrying feet on the ceiling above, the creaking of the floorboards below, the J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1109460243733483022005-02-26T17:23:00.000-06:002005-02-26T17:24:03.736-06:00I'm supposed to be doing work, I'm sure, but, with webmail down, I feel almost like I don't know where to begin. You know those people who are addicted to their email, and have to check their email, like, 3 times before being able to start on anything productive? Yeah, I'm one of those people. Also, those people who can't get round to work if there's even the slightest chance that they could pushJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1109278881147242712005-02-24T14:50:00.000-06:002005-02-24T15:01:21.146-06:00Dear everyone; my brain is officially fried. I used to think, in my early, more stoned days, that my brain was probably getting more and more fried with every passing day. Now I have concluded that that is exactly what was happening. My brain has officially reached the point, however, where it actually is fried. Yes, it now is a lump of gelatinous poop. Perhaps it's just the 4 (and a half, to be J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1109030121692685802005-02-21T17:39:00.000-06:002005-02-21T17:55:21.693-06:00The first signs that my head is exploding: My internet journal at mental age 13Yesterday I ate so much I thought my stomach was going to explode. It was a really super awesome feeling. In fact, it was so awesome that I went home and passed out. On my couch. Until 7 am this morning. Any day I go home and pass out until 7 am in the morning is a relatively good day. I woke up and swept the floor andJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1107640370119830102005-02-05T15:49:00.000-06:002005-02-05T15:52:50.120-06:00So instead of nursing my hangover, I'm directing something for this 24 hour play thing. Eh, I mean, what else was I going to do, considering I had no CUSA show to blame for my patchy academic record and whatnot? I obviously need some form of excuse for my inordinate laziness.
The cocktail party was good last night, meaning that I got really drunken. Some times, I think my life is awesome. Other J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1107378740859920572005-02-02T15:04:00.000-06:002005-02-02T15:12:20.860-06:00I love you when you give me stuff
I love you when you're acting tough
But I love you more when you give me things
Because, hey, you're not that good at acting tough.
I love the way you buy me dinner
Because I guess it makes you thinner
Since you're not stuffing your face
Since you have to pay for me
Yeah, that makes me happy.
I love the way you say you're busy
It's so cool it makes me dizzy
I J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1107332606932194182005-02-02T02:11:00.000-06:002005-02-02T02:23:26.933-06:00So I read a blog I haven't read for a while today, and the person in question wrote a poem. Well, bloody fucking shit, I can write poems too. This one's entitled 'Things Which Piss Me Off'
Ok.
THINGS WHICH PISS ME OFF
I'm really not an angry guy
Sometimes I seem to play at it though
Sometimes I get really mad
But people laugh and shit
It
Yeah, it pisses me off.
I mean, fuckin' A when I'm mad
J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1107228572550978852005-01-31T20:34:00.000-06:002005-01-31T21:29:38.003-06:00For those of you who didn't know, up till this morning, there was a way to print pdfs in the reg's mac lab. For those of you who don't know the reg's mac lab, or why anyone would want to print pdfs there, suffice to say that, given the heavy reading load at this school, printing pdfs at the mac lab was a pretty integral part of my daily schedule, mostly because it was free, and I am cheap.
J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1106614813094015832005-01-24T18:58:00.000-06:002005-01-24T19:00:13.093-06:00Sometimes people ask me, 'hey man, why are you so disgruntled?' Other times, people ask me, 'hey man, why are you such a sexist?'
Sometimes I reply, 'well, it's all due to the same reason, namely that your mother raped me while I was still a child and I still carry the emotional scars.'
Somehow, nobody seems to find this funny. This may be the real reason why I'm disgruntled.
J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1105255071612791062005-01-09T01:42:00.000-06:002005-01-09T01:23:13.920-06:00So I'm going to bore you with more samples of my writing, since I figure I've whinged enough on this blog, and it's about time for a change. You can stop reading now if fiction bores you. Yeah.
Little Beautiful Things, Part whatever
It is one of those in-between times in the life of our hero, if hero can be used to describe someone of such unheroic proportions and propensities. He does a lot ofJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1104878543898546252005-01-04T16:30:00.000-06:002005-01-04T16:42:23.896-06:00As much as I'd hate to see my blog turn into the whinging, melodramatic, my-life-sucks-even-though-I'm-better-off-than-those-poor-unfortunate-sods-in-Somalia variety of blogs which I love to despise, the truth is, in many ways, I'm not happy at the moment. Perhaps unhappy isn't really the word for it, though. I guess, in many ways, my discontent is more along the lines of uncertainty. It's that J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1101771000393478672004-11-29T17:26:00.000-06:002004-11-29T17:30:00.393-06:00So Arsenal lost on Sunday to Liverpool. It's a good thing I only found out now, because it would have ruined my whole day. Now I only have to deal with a ruined night.
Fucking A.
By the way, fuck.
My goal for today was to bump into someone and say, 'grow eyes, asshole.' I thought it would be funny.
Other than that, I devised one of those meaningless questions:
Q: Who's cooler, a kid smoking J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1101034891340219502004-11-21T04:59:00.000-06:002004-11-21T05:01:31.340-06:00In this world, there are some people who just try too hard. You know, people like that annoying little cousin who keeps trying to ingratiate himself to you, or the vast majority of freshmen in any school, or the little train that could. People who try too hard can sometimes be really, really annoying. Now, if you're like me, you're probably thinking what I'm thinking, namely, 'man, fuck these J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1100733479454387302004-11-17T17:14:00.000-06:002004-11-17T17:17:59.453-06:00Last night my whole apartment smelt of soap, or at least vanilla. Not the tasty type of vanilla, though. Rather, it smelt like the smoky, sickly sweet scented candle variety of vanilla which I absolutely abhor. According to the roommate, our apartment smells "like shit". Between stale smoke and incense, though, I figure I'd go for the smoke.
You see, I've realized that I really don't like smellsJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1100046189915400782004-11-09T18:17:00.000-06:002004-11-09T18:23:09.916-06:00I just wrote a moderately entertaining blog entry about how miserable my day was getting, but I accidentally deleted it.
My life is awesome.
J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1099953810836883962004-11-08T16:40:00.000-06:002004-11-08T16:43:30.836-06:00Today i dragged myself from dreary building to dreary building, spent lunch break at the reg editing one of two papers due tomorrow, and now am sitting in the lab, trying my damn best not to fall asleep (and somehow failing miserably). Today I saw two toilets marked 'out of order' and somehow felt that they drew a striking parallel to my mood.
On another note, though, I have tickets to London. J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1099881547249593402004-11-07T20:38:00.000-06:002004-11-07T20:39:07.250-06:00Seeing as to how I have two research papers due tuesday, a midterm on wednesday and my GREs on thursday, I figured I'd waste a little time and update my xanga/livejournal/blog (I still find it funny that I'm so desperate to be read that I maintain three of these motherfuckers). Anyway, I'm sure anyone still reading would be vaguely interested to know where the hell I've disappeared to. To tell J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1098933459877008542004-10-27T22:15:00.000-05:002004-10-27T22:17:39.876-05:00I woke up on Sunday morning with a sense of dread - I'm familiar with this feeling; I've had it every match day since Arsenal won the championship. I had it before then as well, but ever since it looked likely that Arsenal would go the season unbeaten, I started to think that the next match would inevitably have to be the one match where the amazing run our team has been on would come to an end.
J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1098083158131433642004-10-18T02:03:00.000-05:002004-10-18T02:05:58.130-05:00Starting is the hardest part of writing. Once you get past a couple sentences, you read what you've written and realize that you're going in a totally different direction than where you want to be. At these times, you recognize that most of the ideas you have are rubbish and start over. Either that, or you hit the publish button and forget about it.
I should have totally ended this entry with J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1097557145043867592004-10-11T23:48:00.000-05:002004-10-11T23:59:05.043-05:00So, September has turned into October. In approximately 13 days (on the 25th, if you must know) I turn 23. Anything past 21 and below 30 seems like a filler age, somehow - they promise to be blah years in between the legal drinking age and the first signs that you're finally over the hill. I suppose, in some other ways, they're supposed to be exciting times - times when I should (eventually) getJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1096445323561751292004-09-29T03:02:00.000-05:002004-09-29T03:08:43.563-05:00For all my faithful readers, I'm not suicidal. Right now, I'm pretty happy. Sure, I have shittonnes to do, which I will inevitably blow off till the last minute in true Joel fashion, but hey, at least I'm always having a good-ish time doing it, eh? Besides, all my razors are kind of rusty from being in my drawer for so damn long. Nobody wants to finish themselves with rusty shit; I mean, you J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1092257555442421002004-08-11T15:52:00.000-05:002004-08-11T15:52:35.443-05:00There are some drugs you really shouldn't be alone on.
I know it's going to pass, and I know it'll be alright soon, but sometimes I really want to kill myself. Have I got your attention yet? Don't worry, I'm completely bullshitting. I can't put that razor to my wrist, I'm too afraid. Too afraid to die. It's just that sometimes you feel alone and just want to do it, just want to see whether J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1092256994329368532004-08-11T15:31:00.000-05:002004-08-11T15:43:14.330-05:00Sometimes I wish I had stayed in one place my whole life; it seems like anyone I meet is destined to go away, or that I will eventually have to disappear, to go somewhere far, far away, to start over, over and over again. It seems like there's some sort of cycle, like I should never get too close to people, since they'll all be gone in a bit, anyway. For someone who's been in love with flux for J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1088393694573408162004-06-27T22:25:00.000-05:002004-06-27T22:34:54.573-05:00I love the new apartment. It's spacious, clean, well-maintained; it's all you could ask for in an apartment. Well, sort of. The off-white walls are so stark, so bare now - I need to put up some posters, get more furniture, get more this, get more that - my apartment needs to be filled with junk. From wall to wall, the enormous rooms will gradually be occupied with chairs, tables, cabinets, J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1085346783847636042004-05-23T16:09:00.000-05:002004-05-23T16:13:03.846-05:00Back to your regularly programmed complaining. It so happens that I'm a big fan of my stuff. I mean, lots of it is junk, but I really like the feeling of property. I like opening my closet and looking at all my cigarettes, neatly stacked and ready for smoking. I like having all these burned cds, all these pirated movies which I might never watch - I like, in short, having tonnes of shit. I don't J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1083818414117982092004-05-05T23:40:00.000-05:002004-05-05T23:43:26.436-05:00Holy shit my computer is back up. Yes, it was down, yes it's back up. I win. I win, I win, I win. Winning is good. Yes, yes, yes. No, yes, no, yes, no. Fucking A. As in, fuckinnggggg A.
I'm sorry I'm just excited.
As in, cum.J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1083249292944174152004-04-29T09:34:00.000-05:002004-04-29T09:37:58.780-05:00There's so much promise in a day. It just seems to stretch out forever in front of you, begging to be taken, begging to be used. There's so much that can be said, so much that can be done. It only makes it seem more criminal when it all goes away, when you're sitting on your balcony realizing that it's almost 7 and you're already drunk. Of course, being drunk at 7 makes everything worth it. I J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1079255381017016602004-03-14T03:09:00.000-06:002004-05-23T16:09:33.966-05:00Alright man, let's start with talking about cards. I've been wasting my time animating ninjas for hipinion.com, making these geeky trading card things to use as user icons on this message board ... yeah, it's kind of geeky, but hey, why the hell not? So yeah, check 'em out:
yeah, that's pretty much what I've been up to; it gives me something to do, I guess. Yeah, that's pretty fun. So anyway, J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1076935990828928372004-02-16T06:53:00.000-06:002004-02-16T06:55:04.060-06:00So I've made another one of those resolutions I obviously don't intend to keep; I'm going to do more homework. Starting from right now. Or after I finish writing this. Or after I finish bidding for that jersey on ebay. Or whenever.
You know what? Come to think of it, fuck resolutions.
Yeah.J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1076283315864593442004-02-08T17:35:00.000-06:002004-02-08T17:37:00.890-06:00Some days, you look around you and see all those people who've always been there - the same faces; they're familiar, comforting. It gives you an enormous sense of warmth, knowing that these are people you might just know for the rest of your life. Strangely, though, for no apparent reason, there's something gnawing at you from the inside. Then you realize that, surrounded by all the people who J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1075938424100845632004-02-04T17:47:00.000-06:002004-02-04T17:48:45.140-06:00Man, there's a lot to be said for taking a mid-term break where you just play video games all the time. Yeah, that stuff is pretty sweet. It gives me an excuse to be completely antisocial and, err...vegetate. I tend to do that a lot. Yeah. I mean, yeah, man, seriously. Yeah.
So, on a completely unrelated note, I feel obliged to mention CUSA. That was pretty awesome, mang. Yeah, it was. Yeah, I J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1074359213490292932004-01-17T11:06:00.000-06:002004-01-17T11:08:16.700-06:00Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
Wolves kick some Manchester United ass.
In other news today, Wolverhampton Wanderers, starting the day in last position in the English Premier League, defeated reigning champions Manchester United by a Kenny Miller strike in the 66th minute. Screw Manchester United; up the Arse!
J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1072129391840291012003-12-22T15:34:00.000-06:002003-12-22T15:44:09.043-06:00Centraal Station
Here I am, in the Christian hostel, the Shelter Jordan; there's a loony on the piano; just a couple minutes ago he was blasting his ghetto-ass tape recorder; there's no weed allowed here; out of sight, out of mind - thank you very much. I met some Japanese guys at Homegrown Fantasy at the dam - it was pretty funny, and they had a bong; it was a funny sight, all these stoned J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1070305155416778162003-12-01T12:59:00.000-06:002003-12-01T12:59:52.373-06:00So I'm back from Nebraska, and, as expected, skipped the whole first day of classes, because fuck classes. I mean, seriously. If I want that 4.0 this quarter I'll probably have to start working tonight or so, but I'm sure I can put it off, because fuck work. I guess I'll smoke a ciggie, but it's cold outside, and fuck the cold. I mean, seriously, fuck it. Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it. I think I'm J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1069500486788670972003-11-22T05:28:00.000-06:002003-11-22T05:28:34.076-06:00Whose blog?
Yeah, here we play a game where I emulate someone's blog, just for the fuck of it. Today's entry will be one of my chicago inner circle:
Life is sometimes kind of sticky.
No wait, that's my bedsheets.
Squip.
Alright punters, whose blog?J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1069366629642732102003-11-20T16:17:00.000-06:002003-11-20T16:17:35.560-06:00Today has officially been declared a sunday. In fact, I just had myself a mid-week weekend; not that this implies I'm going to get much done tonight, either; I'm probably off to a certain fraternity in about fifteen minutes to get myself blasted. Anyway, I haven't been to class in the last two days almost by default; as in, I just suddenly decided that I was way to lazy to get my ass out of bed, J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1069195200022761242003-11-18T16:40:00.000-06:002003-11-18T16:40:23.826-06:00The alarm rings at 8.30. It's raining outside. What the fuck? Why is the alarm ringing? Fuck. Fuck. Hold on a minute. Fuck. It's still ringing. I tap the person sleeping beside me kind of gently, mainly because I have no idea where the fuck she is. My eyes are still closed. I hear a grunt. This is not going to be easy. Fuck. Shit. Man, two hours isn't enough. Fuck. I'll wake up at 8.45. Where's J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1067649940645934072003-10-31T19:25:00.000-06:002003-10-31T19:25:39.456-06:00Frustration
It's Halloween, and the keys are missing. They've mysteriously disappeared, much like the pencils. Where could they be? There's a suspicion that the roommate took them; things often seem to work out like that, especially in those frantic moments before leaving. Where are the keys? The walls seem to shrink; the apartment is foreboding when leaving implies having no way of getting backJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1067485407667571152003-10-29T21:43:00.000-06:002003-10-29T21:43:23.420-06:00One Night I Had a Dream.
So there’s this German mafia right, and they all like eating sausages and drinking beer. Because that’s what they do. But they’re all mad efficient, like those German dudes, because that’s what they are, and they have all these enforcers who wear shiny black coats like the SS and stuff, and they’re all bad-ass like, and they get into this gang war with the Hawaiian mafiaJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1066724828325602982003-10-21T03:27:00.000-05:002003-10-21T03:27:08.090-05:00Why do I have so much time?
Oh, that's right, because I'm always wasting it.
I should go to sleep.
But not before a cigarette.
And more goofing off.
For anyone who can read this:
ÌìµØ»á: ÿ·êÐÇÆÚ¶þ£¬Èý£¬Îå¡£
·´Ç帴Ã÷£¬Æ¥·òÓÐÔð!
I just wrote that at a rehearsal and it cracked me up.J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1066514388276633562003-10-18T16:59:00.000-05:002003-10-18T16:59:47.626-05:00It's another lazy saturday following another (relatively) eventful friday. My life seems to be falling into some sort of bizarre pattern. This just reinforces my belief that everything is cyclical, much like a washing machine. Or maybe not. It's just the damn circles, I tell you. It's always those damn circles. They aren't bad, though, I kind of like seeing things coming, but then I think I'd be J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1065754302081355082003-10-09T21:51:00.000-05:002003-10-09T21:51:41.520-05:00I've been ridiculously sick for the past couple days. It's not very much fun, at least not to me. Been hacking up a lung or something, and my nose drips like a goddamn waterfall on steroids. This pisses me off. I'm not supposed to get sick; I hardly ever do it. I've been partying like the trooper I am, of course, in between doing ridiculously elaborate stat problem sets. I'm just crazy like that.J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1065048549245396642003-10-01T17:49:00.000-05:002003-10-01T17:49:08.890-05:00Yesterday I felt mighty productive. I was like a giant productive robot marching around campus. I imagined a giant boom-boom-boom sound in my wake as I strode purposefully around the quads, paying my tuition, registering (and de-registering) for classes, bounding from nouveau-gothic building to nouveau-gothic building as I got my life in order. Boom boom boom! It was a good feeling. Some days, J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1058966892826017252003-07-23T08:28:00.000-05:002003-07-23T08:28:12.880-05:00Last Night in Japan.
Tokyo. Ikebukuro. It is rainy. I cannot find the apostrophe on these fucking Japanese keyboards. To make it worse, this keyboard has a strange chinese (I assume) twist. I have found myself in a hotel where the proprietors, and almost all the clients, are chinese. Cantonese is flying everywhere, with bits of Hokkien and a liberal dose of Mandarin. It's strangely reassuring, J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1057600751383224772003-07-07T12:59:00.000-05:002003-07-07T12:59:11.260-05:00Last Burst of Bubbles
So I'm off to Japan on Thursday. This is an exciting thing. My wallpaper at the moment is Arsenal's official double winning wallpaper from last season, when we won more than that silly mickey mouse cup. This is not an exciting thing. It does, however, make me happy, much like hanging out with old friends, because I am a sentimental young fart. I've been exceptionally stupidJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1057129986376359632003-07-02T02:13:00.000-05:002003-07-02T02:13:06.416-05:00For all you personality quiz fanatics, here's one I designed myself:
Do you annoy the fuck out of me?
1) Are you a smartypants?
2) Are you a dumbass?
3) Do you enjoy talking about politics?
4) Do you enjoy listening to boy bands which suck ass and should die?
5) Do you support Manchester United?
6) Have you never heard of Manchester United?
7) Do you think football involves people J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1056906958081300722003-06-29T12:15:00.000-05:002003-06-29T12:15:58.116-05:00I'm all settled in at last and life seems to be picking up. Ate at humble house today, which was not really all that humble at all. The pork ribs were tender and delicious, but over-generously portioned. Also, they served the exact same spinach tofu that I had at club chinois on the first night of my return. I was much better prepared for it this time, though, and hence found it slightly more J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1056089182242422812003-06-20T01:06:00.000-05:002003-06-20T01:06:22.276-05:00Cruel Minor Change
If I believed in those ridiculous emoticons, I'd have a scrunched up face and the word distraught under my mood column. I need to dig my ear and it's driving me fucking insane. These little things always fucking irritate me and make me want to kill people and decorate rooms with testicles. Where is the fucking ear digger? Where the fuck is it? I will go mad.
Currently waitingJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1055839460690113982003-06-17T03:44:00.000-05:002003-06-17T03:44:20.723-05:00Eating is awesome. Heat sucks my balls. I am glad to be back, but only to an extent. Actually, screw that. That's bullshit. I am, in actuality, fucking thrilled to be back. It's awesome. That being said, though, I could be doing a little better; it could be slightly colder than 2000 degrees celcius, and I could have not smashed up my dad's car (yes, within hours of touching down; I'm just THAT J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1055469389007627412003-06-12T20:56:00.000-05:002003-06-12T20:56:28.973-05:00The Joys of Suburbia
Today 423A took a little trip to skokie. Yes, that's right, skokie. We took the red line all the way to Howard, waited for the yellow skokie swift, watched as the train whizzed by trees and little suburban houses with their suburban people and suburban living, and got off in a bizarro-worldo of jewish middle America. The Druce and I, in our last days as roommates, hopped, J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-1055379887376688882003-06-11T20:04:00.000-05:002003-06-11T20:04:47.756-05:00All Dressed Up
It's been a long time coming, but everything is finally winding down. It's time to bring out the boxes, start packing up the rubbish, ship what needs to be shipped, take down the decorations. Finals week was torrid as usual, but everything is finally over. I can't really say I'm sad, either. I've been waiting a long time for the summertime laziness. It's time to take pictures of J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-953099852003-06-04T20:49:00.000-05:002003-06-04T20:49:59.603-05:00I like food. I like comments. I like comments and food, and funny television. I like cats, but not as much as I like people, and also good food. It's all ordered, one through seventy-two, or perhaps ninety-four. What does the number matter? It's just an arbitrary index, a cipher, a mark on the long pole, a cross on the big x-y graph. It never signifies anything, but it means the world to everyoneJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-952046802003-06-02T14:41:00.000-05:002003-06-02T14:41:03.080-05:00The End of the Druce Saga
So it's been decided. The Druce saga is ending. It's been fun living with the kid, but seeing as to how I'm soon changing roommates, I find it a little pointless to continue recounting Evan's daily escapades. If it hasn't shown, I've grown a little attached to the boy, but I'm confident that the Druce will abide, and I take comfort in that. I doubt there'll be a series J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-950422862003-05-29T12:32:00.000-05:002003-05-29T12:32:35.790-05:00If I Could Dance I'd Walk Away from You
As my faithful followers can tell from the title, today's entry will not be on the life of the Druce. Instead, it will be all about your humble hero (or perhaps, more accurately, antihero) me.
I've decided that I'm obviously fucked in the head. I don't like being part of clubs that would take me as a member. I just want to be despised, but only because I J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-949445032003-05-27T10:51:00.000-05:002003-05-27T10:51:58.340-05:00Return of the Druce
Evan's return wasn't a big event. The roommate was mucking around in front of his computer (as is now customary) when Evan sauntered through the door.
'So you're back.'
'Yeah, it was awesome.'
'Yeah, I pretty much slept all frickin weekend.'
'I had a power hour with my family.'
'That sounds pretty awesome. I'm gonna go pass out now.'
There was still time to watch the J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-948998082003-05-26T10:40:00.000-05:002003-05-26T10:40:28.386-05:00Evan's still not back, so everybody gets to read about my life. Judging from the uber low response rates, nobody is interested in my life, but that's ok, because I'm not really interested in everybody else's. I just spent hours and hours looking through peoples' blogs and I realised that nobody ever writes about me. This is obviously proof that the whole world doesn't give a flying fuck about me,J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-948694832003-05-25T15:06:00.000-05:002003-05-25T15:06:34.876-05:00Life without the Druce
The room seems strangely empty today. The Druce is off in Memphis visiting family. The roommate still sits in front of his computer, pining like an idiot when he should be up and about. This promises to be a slow day, but that's what days without the Druce are like. The phone rings. It's Evan.
'You know how I said I'd have a dry weekend? Well, I was WRONG!'
The roommate J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-946186562003-05-20T00:19:00.000-05:002003-05-20T00:19:06.430-05:00Dorm Disco Druce
Every now and then, the Druce needs to cut loose. The roommate will play the Normal's one major hit, and they'll just groove to the music with thundersticks, the roommate doing his Asian groove thing, and the Druce doing the Druce. Nights like those happen all the time in 423A. Two guys with the doors closed, in a totally hetero-sexual fashion, having their crazy wild nights J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-945634342003-05-18T23:08:00.000-05:002003-05-18T23:08:02.536-05:00Ask Doctor Druce
Some days it's clear that the roommate has learnt nothing from a year with the Druce. Evan watches his roommate, staring blankly at his computer, clicking on the same soccer site with a blank stare on his face, and Evan knows - his roommate has that wasting sickness. Evan knows from experience that pining is one of the least enjoyable activities in the world, but try as he mightJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-937590292003-05-04T15:07:00.000-05:002003-05-04T15:07:55.290-05:00Druce. Party Animal Druce.
It's been a week since the last epic beer run, and surprisingly enough, there's still beer in the fridge. Evan suspects that this may have been a slow week for his roommate, who listlessly stares at his computer. Evan's roommate sometimes has problems, and gets a little grumpy. Today the roommate found out that Arsenal no longer has any chance of winning the J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-933849802003-04-28T01:50:00.000-05:002003-04-28T01:52:55.000-05:00Druce's Birthday
Evan is a social being. No Evan is an island. Not this Evan, anyway. Evan likes company, especially when he's drunk. But Evan has loads and loads of friends, much unlike his roommate, who seems to have a penchant for getting drunk and belching on his computer. This weekend was pretty productive for the Druce. He learnt that soda and computers do not mix, and that it pays to be J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-922784622003-04-09T03:27:00.000-05:002003-04-09T03:27:27.576-05:00The Druce, the Druce.
Today Evan went beer hunting with his roommate. Evan really appreciates good beer. The roommate, on the other hand, pretty much drinks anything in the straw-brown colour range. Not that the colour would matter, seeing as to how Evan's roommate is colour-deficient, but hey. Evan doesn't mind knocking back some swill from time to time, though. Piss water is awesome, J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-918949842003-04-02T23:41:00.000-06:002003-04-02T23:41:21.966-06:00Can't get enough of the Druce
Some days Evan just disappears; that's part of his mystery. Nobody quite knows where Evan goes, but before you know it, there he is again, grinning because only he knows his little secret. Evan is mysterious like that. He's a sexy beast. Evan prowls the dorms like a hyena; don't let his easy laugh fool you, he's a real predator, Evan is. Sometimes he just sits J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-915984272003-03-29T05:27:00.000-06:002003-03-29T05:27:16.043-06:00The world, my friends, is divided into good ideas and bad ideas. Here is a foolproof plan to make sure you never do anything you might regret.
Firstly, you should identify everything that is a bad idea. Any confessions of brotherly love, for example, are almost invariably bad ideas. Anything involving automobiles and inebriation could also be interpreted as such. For example, 'let's drive to J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-913940082003-03-25T23:32:00.000-06:002003-03-25T23:32:18.200-06:00Continuing adventures of the Druce
Evan likes his computer games, especially Sims Online. He says it's the whole escapism thing that draws him in. In the world of Sims Online, Evan gets to be Mr. Martineau, also known as "hey sexy". It is good fun. Spring break for Evan means a relaxing time in Jersey (with the occasional trip to the big city), with lots of sleep, sims, and sunshine (Mario J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-913107462003-03-24T18:08:00.000-06:002003-03-24T18:08:47.030-06:00I pressed control-C on this stupid iMac and it ate everything I wrote.
Apples suck my balls.J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-908037422003-03-16T08:31:00.000-06:002003-03-16T08:31:18.170-06:00Life and times of the Druce, part 1
Today was a good day for Evan. It was nice and sunny and he was sleeping, as he always does, till his roommate woke him up rudely for lunch. Ignoring his roommate, Evan went back to sleep. He's just lazy like that sometimes. Seeing as to the fact that it was nice and sunny out, though, Evan decided to take a walk. He ran into his roommate studying with a J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-907375412003-03-14T18:02:00.000-06:002003-03-14T18:02:40.060-06:00Nobody is saying anything to me. This is very saddening.
Anyhow, I spent all of today reading about how P.O.D. is all satanic and rastafarianism is the work of the devil. There's something about ultra-conservative Christianity that amuses me, slightly. I sometimes wonder if I'm not all that good a Christian, what with all my recreational substance abuse and all, but all this soul searching is J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-900418892003-03-03T03:40:00.000-06:002003-03-03T03:40:24.186-06:00Due to my dual lack of morality and discipline, I'm left at 3.30 am on a monday morning, with an essay and two overdue pieces of japanese homework to get through. This really sucks, it really, really does. There are no words. I feel a huge wave of general inability to do ANYTHING coming on. I'm fucked this time, I really am. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Alright, now that that outburst is done J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-899199412003-02-28T14:42:00.000-06:002003-02-28T14:42:52.000-06:00So the website of online randomness is back up again; for those of you who know and love (or despise and wish to crush) it, the black and white online home of the Schnorng is now at
http://home.uchicago.edu/~zhien - don't forget the tilda! We love tildas. For those of you who are looking at my blog through my website, well, that's just bizarro-worldo. Bizarro-worldo, says I! Fucknuts.J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-896169312003-02-23T16:15:00.000-06:002003-02-23T16:15:48.926-06:00I would be upbeat and flippant, but there's too much heaviness in the air. I'm probably the only person who senses it, but I know in my gut that this is when it begins - the honeymoon is over, the fear is beginning to set in; it's like I've been high for far too long, and now the coming down is starting - all these familiar faces seem to take on sinister undertones, and my social paranoia takes J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-895726222003-02-22T18:15:00.000-06:002003-02-22T18:15:03.280-06:00At about 6.00pm on a Saturday night, you realise that your weekend is going to be like every other weekend so far - utterly, hopelessly, ridiculously unproductive.
You stumble to the bathroom, wiping the sleep away from your eyes, berating yourself for too many late nights, too many drunken frenzies, too many substances in too short a time. The mirror is scummy as you realise that it's your turnJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-895408122003-02-22T00:46:00.000-06:002003-02-22T00:46:54.526-06:00Everyone is going out to play
There are no more
Fairies in
My Courtyard.
You suck worse than I do - too much is lost in
Darkness!
Onward, you lily-livered pookies!
Before I trample you underfoot and
Destroy
All your
Mushroon gardens!
Let me just state,
For the record,
That you really need to button up.
I don't want to see any of that shit! Fuck you too!
Give me my money back you bitch.
But don't J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-894788882003-02-20T23:09:00.000-06:002003-02-20T23:09:08.800-06:00Finishing all your shit is supposed to be an all-round good thing. In my experience, however, it is a downright poopy thing, because all it means is that you sit around staring at your walls and wondering what the fuck there is to do. This sucks, and is the reason why I decided it would be a good idea to take 6 classes. In the end, everything has worked out, except now I've finished all my shit J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-881662592003-01-28T12:05:00.000-06:002003-01-28T12:05:04.546-06:00Every day
I
Come back from class
And my
Roommate is
Sleeping
I'm such a dumbass.J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-878681412003-01-22T17:57:00.000-06:002003-01-22T17:57:44.363-06:00The CUSA show was apparently a success. I've always been suspicious of congratulations, though; I suspect everyone secretly thinks I suck, because I pretty much do myself. I'm listening to Sade now, and I've decided that she's not quite my cup of tea. Ah well, the more shit I have on my computer, the better; what else will I do with my excess hard disk space?
I tried playing some Suikoden III J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-870067312003-01-06T08:20:00.000-06:002003-01-06T08:20:07.743-06:00Ah, the first day of school - yesterday started off a little slow; a lot of sitting around, waiting for things to happen - I expected a bigger frenzy, but it didn't really happen. All the familiar faces came streaming in, in no particular order, then there were the one or two conspicuous absences which made you realise just how central some people are to your nightly plans. Things suddenly took J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-868062592003-01-01T19:36:00.000-06:002003-01-01T19:36:22.463-06:00Today I made a new and exciting cover for my new and exciting diary which, as usual, nobody will ever be allowed to read. The third volume of the boring boring life of Joel series is entitled 'no thinking'; I think that the cover looks a little ugly, to be honest - I really suck at a whole bunch of things, and art is one of them.
My new year resolutions - well, to be honest, I'm not one for new J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-865086982002-12-25T01:59:00.000-06:002002-12-25T01:59:18.430-06:00It's snowing out - the land is covered in a blanket of white. It's all nice and pretty, like I imagined it would be. I'm just back from a christmas eve dinner and the opening of presents on christmas day that customarily follows. I have a brand new rice cooker on my bed - how sweet, how thoughtful of them! Just what I needed, too. Somehow, though, my heart isn't quite in Indiana - it's everywhereJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-864742022002-12-24T04:01:00.000-06:002002-12-24T04:01:29.983-06:00Almost another month; finals have come and gone, and not a peep. I've gotten the grades for my first quarter of college - a 3.75; worse than I had hoped for, but I'm told that's respectable for Chicago. Ah well, there are several more quarters to pick things up. Whatever. So here I am, in Terre Haute. Strangely enough, the days are going by pretty quickly so far. I sit in front of the computer J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-851272152002-11-26T15:29:00.000-06:002002-11-26T15:31:16.000-06:00It's been almost a month with no discernable activity from your less than favourite online friend. This does not mean nothing has been going on; far from it. I have been to the depths of, er, other dimensions and back, in my quest for universal truth and beauty. This, naturally, is a euphemism for goofing off and playing copious amounts of Championship Manager. Some of you may be interested to J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-838123802002-10-31T00:52:00.000-06:002002-10-31T00:52:58.396-06:00And so here we begin again, the unproductive cycle, repeating on itself like the coiled garden snake. Right now, I should be reading something; Marx, probably; there are always a million and one better things to do. I would explain something breathtaking right now, but there's nothing to be said, or rather, there's no will to say it. Words are hard for me, they choke at the stomach, or even J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-836859282002-10-28T17:11:00.000-06:002002-10-28T17:11:02.763-06:00What does one do when he has all the work in the world and no time to do any of it? The answer, it naturally follows, is sit on one's ass and abuse random substances. This is not a direct representation of my life, far from it - after spending half an hour schooling the chicago white boys in the finer arts of electronic soccer, I've moved on to more noble pursuits - I sit trying to pull my latestJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-835004652002-10-25T01:11:00.000-05:002002-10-25T01:11:50.360-05:00After several false starts, I've finally sat down to write a hasty journal entry - it's 1 AM on what should be a monumental day of my life; I started it with a cigarette in the cool autumn air, and now I'm off to do some calculus. Life has been good these 21 years; it could have been worse, I must say.
Thanks to my best Stanford buddy and my best Singapore girl in Chicago for remembering; thanksJ Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-832455802002-10-20T04:24:00.000-05:002002-10-20T04:24:45.573-05:00I have been away far too long, in my humble opinion. I know most of you have 101 better things to do than to read my shit, but hey, I enjoy inflicting myself on all of you, and I like the reassurance that I have a voice. The question is, do I?
So, apparently, I've gotten stuck with a bit of a reputation - I am now a 'pimp'; why this is so is beyond me; hanging out with girls is hardly a reason J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-822655752002-09-29T04:00:00.000-05:002002-09-29T04:00:22.660-05:00Hello people who may care about me; O-week in chicago has been a drunken frenzy; I have not had a single dry night since I got here; in fact, as I'm writing this, I'm slightly shit-faced and having a hell of a time; I've really bonded with some of these people; I figure I could grow to like most of them, because they is nice peoples. As in, seriously nice peoples. Some of them, anyway.
And so, J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-818008192002-09-18T21:04:00.000-05:002002-09-18T21:04:59.013-05:00I hate math. I really do. I hate it with a passion that wells up from my gut and pops around in my brain before making my skull clot and fizz and feel like exploding. I don't ever want to do math again in my life, but I will have to, because it is there.
I have been flipping through my old assignments; I still don't believe I did them, then I realise, oh wait, I copied all of them. This J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-816390662002-09-15T14:37:00.000-05:002002-09-15T14:37:35.203-05:00In hopes of getting a comment on that last entry, I have notably not written for a long time (yes, three days is an eternity to hold my electronic tongue); I've now given up all hopes of getting comments on that post, so here's another rant from your not-most-favourite person.
Hello, do you people not realize that I am a comment slut, pandering to your perceived whims just so you will pat me on J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-815392572002-09-12T23:20:00.000-05:002002-09-12T23:20:41.466-05:00I have a real poser in front of me - do I write something brooding, just because I can, or do I revert to my usual semi-upbeat style? Today was another day in my long string of days where nothing happened, and I have no clue what to say about this. Strangely enough, I find myself compelled to give some sort of account, as if I have an audience, waiting to see me dance around naked on the stage. J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473204.post-814823652002-09-11T19:40:00.000-05:002002-09-11T19:40:33.276-05:00Suddenly it hits you again; it can really strike at any time; five minutes ago I was mowing the lawn - in five minutes the yawning chasm catches up with you, and you're left with that gaping hole again, trying to reach into yourself but finding that your hands can never go quite deep enough, that the world's giant phallus can't really stuff you hard enough to fill the stretching emptiness.
I'm J Schnornghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07856175564562836017noreply@blogger.com0