Jason C

oklahoma boklahoma

eeg! i am pretty excited for the oklahoma-nebraska game! i don't know what the source of my pride and excitement for nebraska football is. it could've originally been attributed to living amidst the hysteria whilst in omaha but even away, i still luv it.

today some girl played a project where it said: when i say i'm in love you better believe i'm in luv, l-u-v! it was pretty cool but i have no idea where it's from! i guess i'll have to ask her or something.

tim, if you would like like a healthier alternative to shit...i guess you can substitute half the oreos with a cup of skim millk or something. i think this will actually taste pretty good. maybe.

while you down the concoction though, be sure to think of what you would like to inflict on someone else.

i saw dave j in line today. it was pretty wacky. his socks were cool if i remember correctly. hooray for 60+ degrees on the last day of november!

luv,

jason c

the saga begins!

oogaloog. it is late here. i think this is my last every day blog for the month even counting the days off for thanksgiving. it has been glorious! but then again i'm not sure. hell, i may've even gone over the mark!

i don't know if i will post pictures of tattoo on wandy. maybe after it is completely done. for now it is kind of hush hush as in my fam doesn't know about it.

as for the dare. tim, i dare you to, on december 1st, either:

a. crossdress for all your classes
b. go the whole day without acknowledging anyone
c. eat 12 oreos, a krispy kreme donut of choice, milk and a few donut holes blended together.

take your choice mi amigo! and blog it! blog it! blog it! i think that was a subonscious ref to joel's comment to julie c to bring it. quick, subconscious. quick.

luv,

jason c

ganglords

ok. so i can't decide if the clipse's new album is awesome and sorry erica for talking about music. maybe you will feel better when i ask tim: truth or dare.

luv,

jason c

that curry made my throat hurt.

i will never eat pre-made curry again. it distends my belly and makes it hard to swallow. but it tastes ok.

the week is back to full swing and everything is pretty stressful messful. hopefully things will settle down once i finish making these last two movies for the semester. stress is a way towards death.

maybe deadlines/assignments should be less comprehensive and more free-flowing. would that just ruin the world? could you have that option once you'd proven yourself able to handle high-stress environments and heavy workloads? and if so, would that eventually lead to you lowering yourself into a no-good downright slovenly procrastinator?

who knows? i think the inner drive is what's important and sometimes maybe those assignments force your inner drive. but it's never safe to force orgasm. and it's probably not safe to force creativity or motivation. if our educational/mental testicles pop soon, we'll know the cause.

but for now, i need some sleep!

luv,

jason c

close to the end, close to the end my friend.

samba samba samba! thanksgiving break is officially over and school is starting again tomorrow! for some reason it is like 60 degrees in new york city. and it is almost december. what's going on? i have no idea.

making movie this weekend and am nervous. planning things is hard oh and i also have to read books and shit for real classes. when did school start to become stressful?

winter break! so soon! adieu!

luv,

jason c

i done fucked up.

i missed another day! well i am back in new york now so maybe i will just make it a, uh, 30 day new york only thing! hooray! it was awesome seeing a lot of you over break and i hope everyone's thanksgiving was turkified.

have fun going back to school. except for jeff mc. you fat fuck.

luv,

jason c

iammetalmetal.

tim, that is my sn. i am excited for the colorado-nu game because i hate colorado with a passion. i don't even know why. it is like some pavlovian response to having lived in nebraska for 15 years.

have good thanksgivings everyone!

and rob, i watched some of the lions game and realized that jon kitna is really ugly. i always used to confuse him with boomer esiason who at least looks sorta human.

luv,

jason c

balls in my mouth.

aw maaaaan. i missed a day! joel says that maybe i get to miss a day it being thanksgiving break and all. i don't know what the general concensus is but i apologize truly and deeply. hopefully this break won't be so busy that i can't continue blogging until i at least reach the finish line. i'll just be kind of like, i don't know, a guy who took a shortcut or something, or, at the very least, i won't have the satisfaction of a clean, clean victory.

however, i def cannot go through another month of pure blogging. i have not the strength, will, creativity or interesting banter but i will def blog more often.

back in omaha and it is kind of weird but def nice. i won't be able to go to the colorado-nebraska game sadly, but i will be able to see bond and tenacious d with some people and attend black friday.

entertainment weekly is a bad magazine.

luv,

jason c

eep!

flying home tomorrow! thanksgiving cool. black friday too. see you all soon!

luv,

jason c

setagentarian. or something.

this blog will put me over the 70+ hump. eep. i saw erik!'s spicy monkey porn entry on the front page and realized it hasn't even been that long since it was posted! november first. or maybe it just doesn't seem too long ago.

i just ate the biggest salad of my entire life. well, it's not done yet but if i keep it up, i might die. oh, i'll finish it. all it can do really is make me poo my pants later or somethiing.

thanksgiving thanksgiving! which of you out there would have touched james dean's weiner?

also, i think that truth or dare idea by erica m. hart is groovy. could we try it?

luv,

jason c

wisdom.

so the wk lecture yesterday was pretty much amazing. who ever thought a guy who smashed himself in the face with a brick would have so many thoughts on existence, the mind and dimensional theory?

thanksgiving is so sooon! i am looking forward to seeing peoples and also seeing some movies in omaha theaters (i.e. the new bond. has anyone seen/want to see it?)

in other news, only about another week of everyday blogging until it's back to regular scheduled blogging. i don't know if i can ever go back! but i know i can. hopefully this experience has influenced me to write at least more often and hopefully everyone has been enjoying.

yao ming forever!

luv,

jason c

the wk

jeff and dave and their program board brethren are putting on a lecture by andrew wk tonite which i will shortly attend. needless to say, i am relatively pumped. i dont' know if i'll ever forget andrew wk's first album cover with him and his bloody nose and how best buy covered it up with like black tape.

nor will i forget listening to it and playing nintendo in jeff mc's basement during finals while we barbecued at his house. and hopefully, i'll never forget the insanity to come in the next few hours.

i only regret not being able to share the experience with some of you crazy motherfuckers. and i hope all of you in the omaha area can make black friday and if you can't, we'll eat a sandwich for you.

luv,

jason c

the politics of luv. pt. ii

before i begin on this soon to be meandering blog, i should probably clear up a few things. the streak is still intensely active via the 'i still represent central time' index and wandyteeth's omahan origins and also, the game i spoke of was not that linked to by sir timothy on wikipedia (although it sounds ridiculous). the game i spoke of is the purpose of this blog.

THE GAME is a seemingly not so ancient mating ritual between men and women, men and men or women and women. it involves, so i'm told, pursuing one party romantically through a series of feints and overall retarded methodry.

it has been made clear that to play the game, you first let your attraction become known and pursue it wholeheartedly for a small period of time before gradually waning interest in a very obvious and kind of malicious way.

by doing this, you fuck with the other person's head and somehow make them desire you more than before. it has been described as a 'give and take'. personally, i find the game repulsive and retarded.

we should all just say who we like and act on it like we used to as younguns. does that make me a hippy? free love.

luv,

jason c

ps check your facebooks for an event invite.

father forgivem me!

father forgive me for i have wandy sinned! i have been napping hte pas like three or four hours and i completely forgot about the need to blog effectively ending my quest for 30+ days of blogging. i'm going to pretend like this didn't happen thoughh.

won't you join me? (who is that douche that is like 'come, won't you join me?' on tv? argh!)

luv,

jason c

the politics of luv.

zoinks! i almost let the streak die. i wanted to write a kind of long blog about a discussion i had with my friend becky about 'the game' and whether it was completely ridiculous or not but i don't think i have time nowwww. tomorrow probably.

really though, it's just gonna be a gripe about straightforwardness (or the lack thereof), etc.

i like crosswords. does anyone remember when that fad invaded westside? i swallowed my pills wrong and my throat feels all fucked up. hooray!

pulp is good.

luv,

jason c

frank t.j. mackey and the meaning of life

eeeeeeee! so we have to pick a script for our acting class tomorrow and i was having trouble thinking of/finding something. initially, i thought of the scene between mark wahlberg and the iraqi in three kings, then something from sexy beast and then i saw that i had magnolia written down.

frank t.j. mackey.

for those of you who haven't seen the movie magnolia, frank t.j. mackey is like a sexual self-help guru for men played by pre-publicly crazy tom cruise. there is one scene in particular where he's being interviewed about his past that is really intense. like the way he delivers the last line of the interview is oscar-worthy in my mind.

and that's what makes me sad. tom cruise didn't win the oscar then (he was nominated) and now he's gone all batshit insane and is going to probably star in/write battlefield: earth ii: the return of travolta w/ cruise or something. bummer.

how many days has it been?

luv,

jason c

macaroni and cheese.

i'm so hungry. instant mac is my friend but since i don't have it and accidentally bought normal kraft mac, that is my friend. BLOOD BROTHERS are tonite and person i was going with almost bailed on me but alas, still intact.

rob, i hope they are as insane as you say but i hope my ears don't get shredded to oblivion.

keep your cool.

luv,

jason c

skulls and shit.

i started writing for fun again yesterday in kind of a downer mood but luckily something kind of entertaining came out of it. don't know if you all will dig but i'm going to post chapter one (it's pretty short).

1. French Skulls

Henri Samson is built like a tank, but a French tank, and, as we all know, the French do not make very imposing tanks. Samson stands in front of Johan Santa Diablo, a Mexican man in his mid 30s, the proverbial tall, dark and handsome. But for all the contrasts in these two, who one might suspect to have the upper hand barely has a hand in at all.

"So tell me, Johan, how much?" Samson asks. His pale, angular face can barely contain itself from bursting into a gloating smile of superiority. Some might consider him handsome, in his own peculiar way. Long and lanky, today he has on black jeans fitting tightly to his skeletal legs, a black and white striped t-shirt draped flatteringly over his upper body considering his physique, or lack thereof. The men and women most likely disregard these details in favor of the man’s greased blonde hair and his eyes, blue like the ice in say, the Western Glow Mountain regions.

In contrast to this overly confident figure, Johan Santa Diablo stands rather expressionless, coffeetable brown eyes boring a hole into that precious head of Henri Samson. He has his square jaw set and when he speaks, it seems almost an insurmountable effort to move said jaw to address the man standing in front of him. But he does, grudgingly.

"Monsieur Samson," he begins, the title, albeit subversive in its own way, paining him, "I've told you, it is not for sale."

A silence follows in which the two stare at one another. Johan's jaw has reset itself and Samson's smirk has grown wider, more patronizing. They stand in Diablo's Mexican Eatery, owned and operated, as one might presume, by Señor Santa Diablo. Through the broad windows lining each wall, a pure sunlight streams through and a few of Johan's employees bustle here and there, readying the restaurant for the influx of clientele soon to push through its festive doors (painted purple, orange, yellow and green) to take their seats.

"And, Señor Diablo-"

"Santa Diablo."

"Yes, yes. Have I not come back to inquire once again?"

Johan's chest vibrates slightly, a human purr or growl beginning to emanate. He must tread carefully here. The clock reads 7:59 and the smell of coffee pervades the air. A shorter man, stout and quite hairy, approaches Johan from behind carrying a platter of alfeñiques. As he arrives, he shoots a sideways glance at Henri before inserting half of his girthy body inbetween Johan and the Frenchman. The staring contest between the two subsides momentarily as Johan notices the man. His attention now off the villain of the moment, Johan's body slumps slightly, but only ever so slightly so as to avoid any show of weakness, compassion, humanity.

In Spanish, Johan consults with the man. "¿Yes Tombas?"

And in Spanish, Tombas responds. "Señor Santa Diablo, the alfeñiques you asked for?"

"Ah, yes. Thank you very much Tombas." Johan reaches out for the platter, taking it from Tombas, who, relieved of his duty, bows shortly and walks back towards the kitchen but not without a barely discernible glare back at Henri which Henri notices but hardly pays attention to. Instead, he has his eyes on the platter Tombas delivered.

"Exquisite," he says, lukewarmly. "And what are these, Johan?"

"Alfeñiques."

"Alfeñiques. Of course."

On the platter, intricately designed with multi-colored skulls on the edges and the Diablos Mexican Eatery logo: (insert logo here)

emblazoned in the center, rest nearly thirty candy pieces shaped like skulls, sombreros, bats, crosses, religious paraphernalia (quite Catholic, really) and a few black and white cross-shaped tombstones, a stark contrast to the rest of the candies which almost glow neon pinks, purples, greens, oranges, reds, in the early morning light.

Smiling politely, as it were, Henri clasps his hands together behind his back and rocks forwards and backwards on his feet. Johan's lips now curl up slightly. He has taken some of his opponent’s swagger away but upon seeing this ever-so-slightest of smiles, Henri plants his feet, slicks back his hair and begins anew with his patronizing.

"And why, if I may so ask, have you brought these alfeñiques out here?"

"A treat."

A brief silence hangs between the two as Henri’s eyebrows curl up in non-comprehension. Of course, he catches himself in this rare lapse and makes up for it as brutally, but civilly, as he can. "And I’m supposing that your choice of design-" (he nearly spits this word out onto the platter) "-is your version of the white flag?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well skulls and tombs and the like, as a gift for me? Are you conceding this location?" Henri smiles and his bright white teeth flash in the light. Once again, overwhelmingly proud of himself, he begins rocking back and forth.

"Ah, the white flag of surrender. No, no. I’m afraid Diablos does not own any of those."

"Well, we'll be sure to bring you a few-"

Showing great patience, Johan lets Henri get this far before interjecting, himself. "You are correct, somewhat Monsieur Samson." Although visibly taken aback, Henri still tilts back and forth but now with a bit of skeptical curiosity in his eyes. Seeing this, Johan continues. "The skulls and tombs and the like, as you put it, are for you."

"But-" begins Henri quickly, but not quickly enough, as Johan continues his planned civil barrage against the man standing in front of him.

"But as a sign to you and the rest of your peoples, that we consider you nothing more than dead to us. Diablos is not for sale."

Henri quickly pulls one of his hands from behind his back and holds it balled in a fist in the air, only his index finger pointed straight upwards and opens his mouth to speak but an onrush of customers pouring into the now open Mexican eatery drown him out. Realizing this, he stops himself, puts his finger down, bids Johan adieu in that inimitable French way and walks briskly out the door.

i'll fix those question mark marks later if there are still some!

luv,

jason c

subtle sumbles

beeeeeeeeeeg! gonna make dinner sooon but first, to expound on some things like why life is pretty stupid.

1. mixed signals
2. fixed signals
3. trixed signals
4. you get the idea

nebraska vs. a&m tomorrow. yo estoy concerned. does nebraska football give anyone else a sense of hometown/state pride? or am i just half retarded? i need to start reading for leisure (said rhyming with pleasure) more often. and finishing some paintings!

do you want to see me dial?

luv

jason c

bond, james bond.

i'm semi-excited for the new james bond. just heard the commercial for it on my roommate's tv and while i'm excited with their choice of daniel craig as bond, i am utterly disappointed that they didn't let quentin tarantino direct it! although that seems understandable as bond would've become 10x cooler but also 10x more vulgar, etc. etc.

aowieh;iahdasd. were people in high school/back home more reliable or is this school just filled with flakes?

i had dinner with my mom and friend tonite and my mom came through and brought the goods...the coolest coat ever that was just sitting in a car trunk. i'm pummmmped for it to get cold although this 60+ degree weather is nothing to shake your dick at.

and with that, i bid you adieu.

luv,

jason c

shell out the discharge!

ughhhhh. naps on rainy days in wintertime lead to total and complete mindfucks. someone called me to discuss a shoot tomorrow morning at around five pm. i thought it was five am. nevermind that the shoot would then have been in four hours and i would have just slept 13 hours.

still completely groggy, i thought 'aw man, i didn't brush my teeth or nothing' then took out my contacts and went back to sleep. gross. but that's how i operate.

HUGE GOLD AK-47! title and major lyric of a blood brothers song. it makes me want one. the gun borat tries to buy was also boner-inducing. now, i'm not a big 'gun' guy but i luv action movies and guns in them so that huge gold pistol made my jaw drop. sexually.

ps the answer to the 'don't let bunnies change ya' question: blackalicious, 'don't let money change ya'

too many oatmeal raisin cookies.

luv,

jason c

sordid sentinels and such

today i finally received my copy of pavement's wowee zowee: sordid sentinels re-issue. another goldmine of pavement, matador gave 50 total tracks but with a pre-order one also received...a 7", poster and downloadable live show! awesome. pavement are probably my all-time favorite band. their favor may wax and wane but in the end, they reign supreme. like all-time quarterback. but in name only.

for november, it is pretty warm. i hear the midwest is also experiencing this moose warming weather. ridiculous! anyways, it's time to start reading about witches again. hooray!

don't let bunnies change ya. (points to who can say where that was semi-lifted from).

luv,

jason c

grafic design!

my friend here, seb, who is really into videogames and like computers and stuff has a website with his animation and whatnot (www.sebiel.com) and he recently proposed to feature moon. in his links section. free advertisement means i'll agree! but he needed a picture of the band.

sadly, i have no such picture but i do have photoshop so per seb's suggestion, i had my first attempt at graphic design for a moon advertisement. hooray for a. facebook, b. using a roc em soc em robot as thomas vonderfecht who doesn't have facebook.

and that's that. when i get back to omaha (wednesday before thanksgiving?) hopefully i will have some cd cd burns for people interested. and we had all better hang out. i'm thinking turkey leftover day on friday night or something and we'll just eat turkey sandwich after turkey sandwich together.

wandyteeth!

luv,

jason c

we ride we ride skeletal lightning!

t minus one week til blood brothers. i shouldn't get my hopes super high because i don't know if they'll be awesome or anything. too bad at the drive-in broke up. i really would've seen them live. like a lot.

saw borat last nite, i think the hype might've killed it. erica, that site you linked is pretty weird. kind of made me self-conscious for a moment. i wish we were back in omaha for the blood brothers though. i only know like one person or two people who really wanna go/will even go.

plus, it wouldn't be $20 for def. i luv the nba. i also like the appleseed cast no matter how emo they are. they used to be on this totally emo label but i forget the name but they had these comps called 'the emo diaries' when i was in middle school or so. i kind of regret not getting one no matter how embarrassing it might've/would've been.

tv shows to check out if you are in the moooood: freakshow, south park, dexter, the wire, the office, my name is earl, prison break, family guy, simpsons (treehouse of horror!) and american dad. south park for def.

rob, i'm sorry about the lions. they kind of blew it for themselves though. i mean, they have three awesome wide receivers, mike martz (even though i hate him) as offensive coordinator. but they never drafted a competent quarterback. and then they got kitna. KITNA!

i want some oatmeal.

luv,

jason c

the streak!

i am tired. just napped and am going to eat dinner and see borat. i hope i don't pee my pants but think it would be an awesome story if it were to happen. nebraska won, i think. that makes me happy!

don't spend yourselves.

luv,

jason c

basquetbol.

as promised, the greatest basketball of all time using only players still active today. but how will i judge such great athletes? by ability? winning attitude? team play? fuck. no.

here are the criteria: how awesome they are, whether they look awesome and general awesomeness.

all-nba first team

pg allen iverson
sg ron artest
c yao ming
sf andrei kirilenko
pf kevin garnett

explanations: allen iverson is the most gangsta player to have ever lived. he once said: 'i can see why you'd murder someone but i ain't see no reason why you ever molest a kid.' nothing more needs to be said. oh wait, he is also tough as nails and one of the most prolific scorers in the league right now.

ron artest, well, he's absolutely insane. oh and good at basketball too.

yao ming is chinese, tall and pretty good. hooray!

andrei kirilenko's nickname is ak-47. he is russian. his wife gives him a free pass to cheat on her once a year yet he abstains. oh yeah, he has pretty cool hair too and achieved the 5x5 last year and all around rules the court.

there are a lot of great power forwards in the league but kevin garnett is probably my favorite. he obviously has the skillz to pay them muthafuckin bills and he also, while saddled on a shitty team, still gives it his all, usually leading the team in all statistics. oh yeah, his goatee, when grown out, is also awesome/scary.

all-nba second team

pg steve nash
sg kobe bryant
c amare stoudemire
sf shawn marion
pf chris bosh

explanations: what else can be said about silky steve nash? kind, caring, awesome at basketball, canadian, looks like a wolf, licks his hands a lot when playing adding to his wolf like visage. two-time mvp (consecutively).

i was never really a big kobe fan. in the shaq-kobe feud, he always seemed like an instigator and all-around bitch but after he dropped 80+ on the raptors last year and wore tights a lot and not to mention made up with shaq and had a phenomenal year while having a sort of insane edge about him. and also, as mentioned in a bill simmons column, he nicknamed himself the black mamba. he nicknamed HIMSELF the black mamba.

amare has to go on here because i love the small center game, the agility, the fact that he is super cocky and backs it up and also because he looks like an egyptian pharaoh. hooray!

any person named the matrix has to be pretty good right? right. shawn marion delivers by playing out of position and completely dominating. of course, both amare and marion both wouldn't be on here if it weren't for silky steve nash. oh yeah, his shot is the goofiest looking thing in the nba too. and he looks weird.

one of the more promising players in the league, kind of overlooked because of the hype surrounding dwyane wade and lebron and carmelo and even darko (for sucking so much dong), he is giving the entire city of toronto hope. with t.j. ford in his backcourt this year and brian colangelo up in that front office, look out. this flat-faced, skinny ass monster will take the league by storm.

all-nba third team

pg jameer nelson
sg vince carter
c pau gasol
sf tracy mcgrady
pf lamar odom

explanations: jameer nelson got fucked over in the draft, had, for the most part, an unastounding rookie year but towards the end of last year and so far this year (with the departure of stevie franchise) has blossomed into a total threat with dwight howard and co. doesn't hurt that his name is jameer and it reminds me of meerkats which he kinda looks like.

per rob's suggestion, vince carter. he might not be my third favorite shooting guard but he is explosive, cocky, brash and a fucking slacker. i like that about him. oh yeah, he also reminds me of dinosaurs because of his tenure with the raptors. if not him though, gilbert arenas because he is crazy (according to most sites and columns).

pau gasol's beard alone makes him a candidate. the fact that he is also spanish, talented and has a beard on a team named the grizzlies also helps. too bad his foot is broken or some shit.

i have to support t-mac because he plays alongside yao but after seeing him drop 60+ (or seeing the tail end of it) when he played with the magic, i had to dig on his skillz. hopefully his back will hold up. he is an exciting player to watch and has a HUGE vein on one of his shoulders. he has also been deemed 'sleepy-eyed' by the media. awesome.

lamar odom became one of my favorite players during the heat/pistons series back in 2004 before they shipped him to the lakers. he had some trouble adjusting to playing kobe's sidekick in year one but in his second year, he got the shit down pat. not only does he have an abe lincoln beard, he also is super veiny, versatile and awesome.

so there you have it! my three all-nba teams. borat sold out everywhere in the city. tomorrow night. yeshkemesh.

goodniiiiiiite!

luv,

jason c

blood brothers.

holy shiiiiiiit! chris bell is on wait while i indulge in blood brothers. sent some to joel yesterday telling him i thought it was better than glassjaw. he disagreed but still enjoyed and they are coming here in about a week or two to play irving plazaaaa. exciting shit.

this blogging is kind of exhausting me. if anyone has any requests as to subject matter, feel free. j. sass! you almost deleted your blog? and if that is just a rumor, it is a rumor akin to that of the national enquirer's, disgusting, vile, sensational and frightening.

BORAT COMES OUT TOMORROW! i am super duper excited. we are going to buy fake moustaches and attend in full regalia. meaning just the moustaches. rob who is your favorite team? detroit? they will cry on national tv. because they SUCK!

hmmmm. i suppose tomorrow i will blog about what would be the greatest nba basketball team ever (using current players only) based on certain criteria. that'll be fun! hooray!

keep your weiners cleaner.

luv,

jason c

hooray!

i luv music. it is pretty cool. who knew rod stewart was good at anything besides making 40 year old women cream themselves? THE FACES knew, that's who. it was like 70 degrees here today. i don't even know what's going on.

turkeys are going to invade the country soon and be deliciously devoured. well i guess not that soon but soon enough!

i wrote yesterday that the nba season starts tonite. too bad it started last nite with the heat getting completely embarrassed by the bulls. ridiculous. but the big season bang is tonite! exciting.

fantasy sports is where it's at. it being joel, me and some other people. tim, what the hell would a bob ross pumpkin be like? like a landscape on the surface of it? that would've been hard as erections to do.

'won't you come and take a walk with me'

luv,

jason c