Polar Bear Swim? No Thanks.

Back in scout camp (for a week every summer my troop went to scout camp getting merit badges and camping and shit. Yep, I'm pretty cool.), we had to do the "polar bear swim" every morning, and it is complete bullshit. Here's a little rundown of what that magical activity actually entails:

- Our troop leaders would come by our tents every morning at the ass-crack of dawn and wake us up with their mind-numbingly annoying "time to make the donuts" shout.

- 10 minutes later, after we've already fallen back asleep, they would come back and actually start to prod and shake us to get us up.

- When we would object to getting up at a time in which THE SUN DOESN'T EVEN START HEATING UP OUR ATMOSPHERE, they would pour some water on us and force us to get up.

- We would brood and sulk and pout as we walked down to the pool area, where we would then jump into the freezing cold swimming pool (I was actually surprised every morning to find the water was in a liquid state, because it was easily below -100 degrees Fahrenheit. They must have done something weird with the pressure...) for NO REASON AT ALL and then go back to camp so we can change for breakfast. SO MUCH FUN.

Once my friends and I got older and wiser, we came up with a new strategy. A strategy in which we could live our lives polar-bear free. When the leaders came by to wake us up, we woke up immediately (this should have tipped them off that something was amiss, but I guess their initial faulty assumption was that we actually wanted to subject ourselves to a watery torture every day at fuck o'clock in the morning). We put on our swimsuits and ran down the path to the swimming pool while they were still waking up the other kids in our troop. "We'll see you down there!" No you fucking won't.

Once we were out of sight, we ducked onto another path which was a roundabout trail to the shower area. While our troop was busy hurling themselves into semi-solidified ice-water, we spent our mornings taking nice hot showers. It was the perfect crime. Our leaders never saw us because we "got to the pool early" and there were so many other troops there that it was easy to miss us, we got to take piping hot showers every morning without worry that the warm water would be out due to over-use, and we'd show up back in camp dripping wet from our "polar bear" excursion. Bwahahahahaha

With that said, I find it hilarious that in my twenties I am now opting to do the polar bear jump. On three separate occasions I've jumped into the freezing Boston ocean in the winter for... the fun of it? I don't know why. You can tell by my expressions in the following pictures that I was less than pleased by my decision...

First polar bear at Revere - Dodgeball House residents randomly going in the middle of January for no reason

Second polar bear at Revere with Michelle, Scott, and Zak. Michelle's Cupid Splash was moved, so we decided to spend our February afternoon leaping into the ocean JUST BECAUSE WE DON'T SUCK

First one in, first one out

LOOK AT CRONIN'S FACE. PRICELESS.

Before I'm 30

I've mentioned this or have shown this to a few people, but apparently having a list of things to do before you're 30 isn't all that normal? I don't see why. I have life goals, and the most opportune time to do most of them (due to being physically capable, having the time and energy, or just because of the terrifying idea that I might not be as insane as I am now) is before my 30th birthday. Plus, that is going to be a super depressing day, and I want to be able to look back at my life and be like "oh right, I forgot how awesome I am. Carry on." I encourage you to make your own, because it feels great crossing off these huge life achievements when you complete them. Like, better than that feeling you get when you push the "other" button down on a McDonald's soda lid. I came up with most of them the day after I graduated undergrad (literally the next day), but some I added when I heard of something so awesome that made me go "holy shit. I must conquer that. IT'S GOING ON THE LIST." So here is my list:

1. Oktoberfest in Munich - this needs to happen.
2. Get a dog - I'm going to name him Khan, so that whenever I call his name I scream "KHAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNN" SEE WHAT I DID THERE? roflroflroflrofl lolersk8s roflcopter
3. Skydive - COMPLETE (This is the epic coming-of-age narrative in which I punched the face of god and then jumped out of a moving aircraft)
4. Triathlon - potentially signing up for baby's first triathlon this summer? CALM DOWN it's just a sprint, not a full "all my bodily functions are failing me and I'm definitely going to have 17 heart attacks" all-out crazy triathlon. But still. w00t?
5. Climb Kilimanjaro - should probably start researching what that is going to require...
6. Go to California - COMPLETE (I kinda lived there for 4 months? And I kinda created this blogosphere to chitchat about it? The blag is literally named "Goin' to California." To my faithful readers in China: I know you probably didn't realize this, but yes, I completed that life objective.
7. Go to Yellowstone - I'm doing this in 3 weeks! (You'll probably see some journal entries in the future, or if you are a time traveler from the future, you already know this, but I'm going on a road trip from Salt Lake City to Seattle with some grade A chums).
8. Learn another language - FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU- I need to get on that...
9. Learn how to solo on the guitar - COME ON. When am I going to have time to "become proficient at skills I don't yet have?" Ugh.
10. Go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras - that seems pretty fantastic.
11. Go to Japan - seems simple enough. I think I need to start designing some pyramid schemes to build up enough capital to achieve some of these goals.
12. Eat the Vermonster - some of the D. Haus crew and I came up with that around sophomore year, but it never came to fruition. I need to build up a team to take down this mountain of ice cream THIS SUMMER.
13. Paint the Tufts cannon - I've actually never done this, how is THAT possible? But whatevs, it's happening this summer.
14. Drink around the world at Epcot - I heard about this through Jimmy (who actually did it on his honeymoon), and it sounds phenomenal. The idea is that at every "country" in Epcot, you get that country's signature drink. Apparently, it culminates to a tram ride back to the hotel in which you scream "I love you, dude!" in front of 20 children. SIGN ME UP.
15. Wear Greenman suit to a sports game - SO PUMPED TO DO THIS. The Phillies just need to get up to Boston and I need to get tickets so I can pull this off. Because I am NOT rooting for a non-Philadelphia team in the Greenman suit. That's sacrilege.
16. Eat the world's spiciest burger - COMPLETE (UGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH enjoy this link to the WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY SWEET YOUNG LIFE).
17. Get Master's Degree - FUN. I'm working on it I'm working on it.
18. Backpack in the Alps - I'm actually worried it will be too gorgeous.
19. Brew beer - I'm hoping to make a batch for the fall. And I want it to taste like FRIGGN PUMPKINS.

Not really a "before I'm 30" goal, but DEFINITELY a life goal: I recently ate so many cupcakes that I literally vomited. It was awesome. There was one with bacon brittle on it and pieces of actual bacon in the cupcake! WELCOME TO AWESOMETOWN, POPULATION: ME.

Wet Leaves

With the first camping trip of the year approaching (a bunch of us are heading up to VT to enjoy the outdoors, eat baked beans, drink beer, and play Spades ALL FUCKING DAY), I got to reminiscing about another one of our hilarious boyscout escapades. This one isn't as bone-crunchingly painful as the other story, but it does paint a very accurate picture of what our time in scouts was really like. This, boys and girls, is a story about urination.

It is a fact of life: peeing on something is simply the act of marking your territory. In fact, it is a legally binding act whereby you claim ownership of said "target." I once set the goal to urinate on every notable landmark in one week at summer camp one year (achievement unlocked). I set a similar goal to excrete liquid waste on every building at Tufts (yep, I pretty much own most of Tufts by now). TONS of well known places and landmarks are now my property (Mason-Dixon line, Tooth of Time in Philmont NM, Half-Dome at Yosemite, Angel's Landing at Zion, Harvard Statue - hahaha there is a picture of Shaq touching the exact location that I peed on, Mississippi River, Pacific and Atlantic Oceans, etc.) And when you camp a lot in scouts, you come to learn that peeing outside is better..... or at least more hilarious.

On this particular camping trip, we were training for our big backpacking trip to Philmont, NM. This campground had PERFECTLY GOOD LEAN-TO's, but our leaders did not allow us to shelter ourselves from the rain because we had to "practice setting up and taking down tents." Bullshit. Out of furious spite, we all decided that the floor of the unoccupied lean-to would be our urinal for the weekend. Whenever any of us had to go, we had to declare that we needed to "use the lean-to," and then we'd go to town. By the end of the camping trip, there literally was a puddle on the floor of this edifice in which other people would use as shelter whilst camping. Yes, world, we had our revenge.

But as we were leaving we realized that a puddle in the middle of the lean-to looked entirely too conspicuous, especially because it hadn't actually rained. In our brilliance, we opted to cover the puddle with a bunch of leaves laying on the ground. I don't know why we thought a pile of soaking wet pee-leaves in the middle of a dry floor looked any better, but we were satisfied. It looked hilarious. Just a empty, bare lean-to with a pile of soaking wet leaves right in the middle of it.

The best part is that as we were driving out of the campground, the rangers stopped us so they could "check the site" to make sure it was clear of trash. Jesus tapdancing Christ. They would immediately find our moist, leafy "gift," and in our minds we assumed that the only possible conclusion a normal human being could come to was that it was a pile of leaves used to hide a steaming puddle of piss that six teenage boys had created in the span of three days in order to get back at their scout leaders for making them set up tents. We thought we were doomed. Waiting in the backseat of the car, the tension was palpable. We were too terrified to utter a single sound; instead we sent each other knowing glances that said "the moment they come back and tell the adults what they've found, we're bolting from this vehicle and running into the woods, starting a new life as forest people, living off the land for the rest of our days." I think one of us may have vomited from the anxiety, I'm not sure. But anyway, the rangers finished their inspection and came back. The adults got out of the cars to make sure everything looked good so we could head home. As they walked back to the cars, we readied myself for the rapid vehicular exodus we were about to make. "Ok, everything looks good." How can this be? DIDN'T THEY SMELL THE PILE OF SOPPING WET LEAVES IN THE LEAN-TO??? I was flabbergasted. "Yeah, all they found was a plastic wrapper." Oh thank the heavens, we were off the hook. I am sure that we only got out of that by the skin of our teeth and by the fact that these rangers clearly don't have it all going on upstairs to have missed it.

"They said they found some wet leaves in one of the lean-to's, but it must have been the wind that blew them up off the ground."

"Heh.... heh... yeah. Probably. Just drive."

I almost died again...

Oh hay guise,

So remember how every so often I do something so reckless and awesome that I get the feeling "shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit, I'm definitely going to get naturally selected" but then miraculously survive? (reference jumping off a 78 foot cliff and eating the spiciest burger in the world). Yeah so I had that feeling again this weekend. It was amazing/terrifying. That's a normal combination of emotions, right?

My buddy Rich, from work, and I went up to Mt. Washington to ski Tuckerman's Ravine this past Caturday. We went up to the Tufts Loj with a few friends because, hey, I'll be damned if I ever hike a mountain in New Hampshire without being depressingly hungover. So yeah, it was a rough start to the morning, but I powered through, as I am wont to do when hiking Mt. Washington (note: the last time/only other time I've hiked Mt. Washington was with Rich and I was so hungover that I puked up a colorful-gummybear-mess about an hour before scaling the tallest mountain in New England). And hangover aside, this hike was exhausting. The trail was snowy/icy, so for every step forward, we slid half a step back. Also, we were trucking it up that mountain (made it to the top in less than three hours while carrying skis? what?), so I was so friggn tired.

We made it to the base of Tuckerman's Ravine, which is a huge snowy bowl with nearly vertical walls that you have to climb up in ski boots. You know, ski boots? Those things that make you look like you have a mental disorder when you walk? Those things that are in no way fit for scaling a vertical wall of ice? Fun times. So yeah, with our skis on our backs, we start climbing up this ravine wall, using our ski poles as ice picks so that we have more than just the toes of our FUCKING SKI BOOTS as points of contact. And it was terrifying. If your center of mass was just a tiny bit backwards (and remember, we're climbing a wall that is nearly vertical. I exaggerate quite a bit, but this wall was literally about 80 degrees vertical), you would absolutely fall down the entire mountain wall. In fact, we saw a few people that did end up falling. And when you fall, you can't just stop yourself. You fall all the way down. I think one guy broke his arm. I was not amused by my predicament.

Pictures do it no justice. This thing was nuts.

Getting up this wall was both physically and mentally excruciating. It was honestly the third most difficult hike I've ever done. At one point I was 20 feet from the top, clinging to whatever surface I could for dear life, too tired to keep going. Ugh. And when we got to the top, I collapsed. But oh wait, it is Mt. Washington, so it was freezing and all my sweat was now super cold and pissing me off. But my legs still felt like they were made out of jelly, so I wasn't ready to start skiing. Soooo about halfway before I would have been actually ready, I was forced to put on my skis lest I die from hypothermia. And the fun part is that it was so vertical at the top, that you literally had to jump to start skiing. It was like ten feet before my skis actually hit snow.

And the moment they did hit snow? They instantaneously crossed and I fell. And tumbled. And spiraled head-over-heels out of control. For the third time in my life, I, Chris Severino, thought that I was going to perish. LUCKILY, I was able to swing my feet out in front to control my slide, and used my ski poles to stop myself before I hit a HUGE FUCKING PATCH OF ROCKS. Great start. I had tumbled halfway down the friggn ravine. Rich was kind enough to bring my skis down so I didn't have to climb up the entire way again, and then I managed to survive skiing down the rest of the way. It was fun, but I think I was still all jacked up on adrenaline from the whole "almost-dying-via-smashing-into-jagged-rocks-at-Mach-2" thing.

Needless to say, my survival rate is still at 100%. But just barely.

I am the smartest

Ok, most people don't realize this, but boy scouts are fucking crazy.

We were on a camping trip when I was younger and had just joined the troop, so I was like 12 at the time. On this particular camping trip, my friends and I did the dumbest thing I've EVER DONE... before we learned how great fire was. The fire stories are great stories too, because all scouts are necessarily pyromaniacs, but we'll save the one where I melted off the soul of my hiking boots for another day. This is a tale of creativity, ingenuity, triumph, and traumatic levels of pain.

When we joined the troop (back in... 1998? Holy shit), we didn't have many responsibilities. We were carefree, young go-getters who would stop at nothing to attempt the most dangerous stunts that our semi-developed brains were capable of concocting.

We are also fucking adorbs. Oh the guy in the hat? That's my best friend Jimmy. HE IS A MARRIED PERSON NOW. WHAT.

So anyway, on this camping trip we had the entire afternoon free, so what do we decide to do? CONSTRUCT A GO-KART BY TYING TWO DOLLIES TOGETHER WITH TWINE. This is normal. But to our credit, we used really good knots. Our plan was to ride it down a nearby hill MOUNTAIN like an unsteerable go-kart. It must have been the steepest hill in Pennsylvania. It was a friggn cliff. We were SO pumped. So me, Jimmy, Geoff, and probably Olsen (I don't really remember) got on this XTREME death vehicle that we had constructed, making sure to sneak by the troop leaders (because they would not be too keen on the idea of four 12-year-olds careening themselves off the side of a mountain while riding two package-transporting devices tied together with string). The funniest part about this scenario is the fact that it took less than ONE SECOND for all four of us to simultaneously regret our rash decision.

After about 3 seconds were were hurtling down the hill at Mach 2. I'm not sure if we were screaming, because the sound would have been drowned out by the sonic boom surrounding our shoddily crafted and rapidly accelerating makeshift speed-rocket. And then we saw it. We were on an unchangeable vector heading toward huge tree. In that instant we all knew that we would perish. I'm not entirely sure what transpired in the next few moments because I kind of blacked out from sheer terror, but I think it went something like this:

Jimmy and Olsen somehow bailed off the rampaging death-mobile by throwing themselves off the sides and rolling over boulders and snakes and bushes or whatever to eventually slow down fast enough to avoid breaking ALL THE BONES. Geoff and I, meanwhile, were somehow locked to the craft, speeding faster than Escape Velocity towards a tree that clearly doesn't give a shit about us. Because even though we were nearing the speed of light, our 12-year-old mass was basically negligible when compared to that of a tree. We were sure to lose the battle of momentum. And we absolutely lost. Upon crashing into the monstrous vegetation, we hit at such an angle that I was hurled forward off the dollies, flying through the air for about 10 seconds, and smashing into the ground 50 feet from the tree (the actual hangtime may have been significantly less impressive. shhhh.). I'm not sure what happened to Geoff; it is possible that the force of the crash was enough to make him collapse into a Black Hole.

Miraculously, all four of us survived the ordeal. We all stood up, and by the grace of God our inevitably shattered bones must have instantaneously healed themselves. However, I had more blood pouring out of my legs than I was previously aware existed in my entire body. And the pain. Holy shit. My comrades were in just as bad shape; I think one of them accidentally swallowed a family of possums while rolling over their nest at 350 mph. But that's not to say that would wouldn't do it again... though it was enough to make us at LEAST reconsider participating in this activity. The worst part is that as we clambered back up the hill, dragging our broken invention and dignity behind us, the troop leaders were at the top waiting for us. They had heard our blood-curdling screams of terror and arrived just in time to punish us for our reckless and mildly retarded behavior. So not only did I lose 3 pints of knee-blood, but I also had to wash all the pots and pans after dinner. Screw that.

I forgot about roller blades

I was walking home earlier today and saw a girl in her early 20's roller blading. This caught me by surprise, because I hadn't passed by any time portals to the 90's that she must have used to enter our realm.

It got me to thinking about back when I was a kid when roller blading was the shit. My cousin and I would roller blade during our summers in Florida, and it was hilarious because our mothers REQUIRED that we wear those awesome-looking OFFENSIVELY NEON green knee pads and elbow pads. We must have looked like the goofiest creatures in the world. Especially because all our neighbors were at least 80 years old and the only thing they could possibly relate to roller blades are those old-timey bicycles with one enormous wheel in the front that you can only ride whilst wearing a top hat.

Oh hahahah and that just reminded me of this one super-old neighbor we had who was a complete turd. He was come outside yelling FURIOUSLY if we ever set foot on his lawn to chase a frisbee or something. We would always get him back though. We always made my dog take a dump on his lawn when we took him out for a walk.

Roller blades: greatest invention the world has ever seen. Anything that can compliment the banana hammock so perfectly can't be ALL bad, right?

My recent dreams have been really weird...

This might be fun, because some people who actually read this blog appear quite a bit in some of these. These are some of the dreams I've had thus far in 2011. So yeah, here's some evidence that my brain is still a very strange place to live...

1/3/2011

I had a dream where I was fighting evil demons in various forms. Sometimes it was with a set of pokemon in Manhattan streets. Other times it was by earning trophies and diplomas at GE and then bringing the demons to a whiskey tasting/dance club place in Harvard (what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Does such a place exist? CAN I GO THERE WITH POKEMON???). One really detailed segment of the dream was kind of like playing Risk: I had a map of my area and I had to bring reinforcements to certain segments to defend a central area.

1/4/2011

I was training Michelle in archery and how to shoot a machine gun out of a helicopter for an upcoming battle against zombies, who were swarming the compound we were staying at (ok good, a standard zombie dream. Back to basics). The dream was like the game Dragon Age in that I had new "quests" to achieve, like to quell a rebellion or to help Rob Cole fall in love (wait WHAT? How is this a quest? How would this help solve the zombie issue? WHY IS THIS THE FIRST TIME I'VE HEARD ABOUT THIS?? I hope for Rob's sake we completed that quest, and then....survived all the zombies?)

1/5/2011

My main dream was about me trying to get a flight from LA back home. At first I was with a mob boss, who told me that I either had to swallow a bunch of pincher bugs or burn myself with a cigar to get home. I ran off and came across Kyle's family, who helped me make an intricate balloon/kite thing and then I went to the park with Olsen (ok I guess the whole thing about flying home is no longer an issue?). We accidentally destroyed some kid's toy boat, but he said it was $2 and we gave him $6, so he was super happy. I then told him to be my spy, because he was the child of my enemy or something.

1/10/2011

I dreamed that I was about to go pick up Michelle somewhere in a national park, and then the two of us were going to head down to Florida. Along the way we had to stop and I had to finish some engineering challenge to continue (oh god damn it Sevs you friggn nerd). It was a lot like building a Lego robot, except all the parts were metal and I had to make them by using lathes and mills. I couldn't figure out how long to cut some of the pieces though.

1/12/2011

Some friends and I went to a carnival, but even though it was supposed to be the best in the world, it looked completely shitty. My friend said that they purposely did that to look "worn out." What bullshit (hahaha I like how I'm super sassy in this dream). We went through a hole in a roller coaster truss to find a robotic hobo with evidence that the carnies were killing people. He kept the data in a computer in his face. Bart Simpson, one of our group, took the data from him, but the guards found all of us (guards? At a carnival? This is an elite fucking carnival). They killed the robot hobo and ripped out Bart's face computer. They then forced the rest of us to stay at the carnival forever by trapping us in a ride for each of our personalities. Mine was that I was in a house that was a huge maze and the only way I escaped was to pretend to be one of the guys running the ride, and then getting out a secret entrance in which gravity reversed. So I crawled out on the ceiling. (Wait, seriously? I escaped this maze by pretending to be one of the operators? I take back that "elite carnival" thing, these guys are retarded.) I helped my friends out of their respective rides and we escaped to some tunnels.

1/17/2011

I had this dream while in Portland, ME, and literally laughed myself awake at the end...along with everyone in the hotel room.

In the dream, I had recognized the setting and realized that it was a terrible dream I've had before. But this time, I knew where to avoid the traps and enemies. I was a SWAT team member, along with Rob Cole and Zak. We were fighting terrorists and martial arts master ninjas. But since I had this dream before, I knew where everyone was hiding to prevent an ambush, so we did ok. Jill explained how the soul-trapping demon was actually an evolved dragon-type pokemon (what the fuck is with all these pokemon dreams? I say that because I'm angry I don't have them EVERY NIGHT). Before heading out into a swamp, we saw Andrew Miner playing videogames at Tai's house, and Tai was yelling at him because it was too loud (hahaha classic). In the swamp, all the terrorists were southern hicks and were REALLY stupid. They kept saying hilarious things and tried to stop our guns from firing by covering them with condoms. I can't explain all of it, but it was literally the funniest dream I've ever had. I laughed so hard in the dream that I actually woke myself up, along with everyone else in the room. I can't really explain it, but whatever was happening in the dream was hysterical.

1/22/2011

I was driving on really icy roads to try to drop off Michelle and Zak from broomball. The car would consistently respond the wrong way when I tried to make a turn. Also, midway through the drive it became a manual car, which I'm not very good at. It was really stressful. The car suddenly started going nuts and almost careened us over a cliff despite the fact that I had it in Park. Also, our only camera that had all our pictures for the past year fell over the side of the cliff. I woke up feeling really frustrated and angry because of the dream. I actually remember this one and how not being able to control the car in my dream literally RUINED my morning after I woke up.

2/4/2011

I was trying to order a buffalo chicken pizza, but I had to download it via EZdata in Excel. I had to keep changing the dataset keys to try to download it. I clearly was thinking about work too much for this one.

2/14/2011

My dream was like a multiplayer round in Call of Duty, but we had to kill the entire team at the same time. Nerd.

2/23/2011

My co-workers met on the roof of a chocolate shop after work one day for a group outing. There was a special seat called the "Mexican Party Seat," and whoever sat there got a V.D. (BAHAHAHAHAH WHAT??? Where did I come up with THAT?)

2/27/2011

Jill and I were in an indoor lake with waves, just swimming around. Then we found a kitten with two paws stuck in ice skates, walking around in them (awwwwwwwwwwww). We tried to help it escape, but there was a really intricate transmission system inside that was too complicated to figure out.

In another dream I was one of several targets that bounty hunters were after, set in a Borderlands-desert type landscape. One of the bounty hunters was a really badass guy with a pistol that you spin the top around to reload. He killed his target every time, including purposely missing to shoot down a hanging sign to kill one of them. One of the guys drove off, but was shot into a cannon, which then careened him off a cliff. That doesn't make sense, but that is what happened. He then started coming after me, and I woke up after he had me pinned down behind some barrels.

2/28/2011

I was on a flight with Andrew Miner and my parents on a small aircraft meeting up with some friends in VT. The pilot took the plane out onto a highway, and then some smaller roads. Eventually we got to a covered bridge, which the pilot decided to use to ramp the plane into the air to takeoff. It actually worked. We went high enough that when we stalled at the apex, the wings caught lift again and started flying. We were suddenly in France, and from above I saw Danny DeVito give the finger to a cop.

Animal Fight Tournament Bracket

One of the best things about Dodgeball House was that when we moved in, there were a bunch of random poster-sized pieces of paper strewed about in one of the closets. We eventually started making "D. Haus lists" or other thoughts that we would write down while all hanging out in the living room and then put them up on the walls. Some of these included:

Life's Little Pleasures (pushing the "other" button on a McDonald's drink lid, pulling the plastic off a new LCD screen, popping packing bubbles, etc.)
People You Want to Survive the Zombie Apocalypse With and Why (Sevs - you could eat all the cheese you find, Matt - all his videogame training would make him ideal at the shotgun, etc.)
People You Would Like to Kill as Zombies (Jordan - his abs would no longer haunt your nightmares, James - he would finally stop saying "Goddamnit Chewbacca," etc.)

But my favorite one was the day when we decided to have a bracket of what animal would win a fight to the death. I remember the day well. I was sitting in the living room trying to finish my Radio Astronomy take-home final. Think about how boring that sounds, and then multiply it by the density of a Black Hole (see what I did there?) Yeah; it's THAT BORING. So I was most likely just watching whatever videogame Matt was playing that day. We start talking about who would win in a fight: a flying shark or a flying crocodile. We start getting really scientific about the environment they would fight in, body mass, stuff like that. Before I know it, all 6 of us are discussing which animals would win in fights. So we did what any group of guys who are avoiding studying for finals would do: we made a 16-animal bracket to determine who is the champion of all the animal kingdom. Pretty standard.

We had to lay down some ground rules first. It had to be a pound-for-pound battle with every fight. They had to fight in a neutral environment, so camouflage or whatever didn't matter. The 6 of us voted on a winner, and if the battle came out to be a tie, we would either wikipedia the animals and re-vote with newfound animal logic, or call Jizz Jizz to cast a tie-breaker vote. We all know that Jizz Jizz is the greatest and most potent human being to walk the face of the Earth, so we were ok with that rule. Our first animal battles were mostly fair fights, and pretty friggn awesome. We had battles like Tiger vs. Cheetah, Bald Eagle vs. Perigrin Falcon, Grizzly Bear vs. Polar Bear, Shark vs. Crocodile, Elephant vs. Hippo, etc. One of my favorites was when we had to find a contender for Arlen's favorite animal: the tortoise. We decided that 600 lbs of slugs would be a fair fight. Here's what I remember about some of the topics of discussion:
Polar Bears are about twice the size of Grizzly Bears, which I previously had not known, and their claws are like 8 feet long. Polar Bear wins for sure. Cheetahs can run fast, but only for about 10 seconds. The rest of the time Cheetahs are some little bitches. Tiger wins. Elephant ended up winning even though Hippos are pretty much the biggest assholes the world has ever seen. Tortoise ended up winning against 600 pounds of slugs. I don't think I believe that. I don't really remember the less important battles. But I DO remember having to call Jizz Jizz about one heated debate. We had a gorilla vs. Matt and Joe with baseball bats. I voted the gorilla winning because it is pure fucking muscle and doesn't give a shit about baseball bats. But I actually change my opinion 4 years later. If it is pound-for-pound, it isn't that big of a gorilla. Plus, with Matt and Joe, there are TWO people. So if the gorilla takes down one, the other can smash its brains in. Lastly, a baseball bat's range is drastically longer than a gorilla's arms. I think I voted incorrectly. But Jizz Jizz agreed, so I guess by definition, that is the truth.

The Elite 8 battles are where things start getting shitty. We thought of some pretty great match-ups for the Sweet 16, but we didn't consider how the next battles would go. We had a Tiger vs. a Tortoise, Shark vs. Gorilla, Eagle vs Elephant. It was all bullshit. None of those were good fights. We eventually made it down to the Final 4; Shark, Tiger, Elephant, Polar Bear, but we soon learned that we could no longer continue the debates. They were ridiculous battles that would never happen and absolutely depended on environment. A Great White Shark is definitely going to win any battle in the water and lose on land. We made the rule that they were fighting in space with no environment, but then not having gravity starting getting insane. Basically it went from an awesome idea in which we wasted about 4 hours we could have used to study for finals to a debate about how a Tiger would breath while orbiting the Earth fighting with a Shark. It was an unfortunate ending to the greatest bracket ever created. But oh man, if only there were some awesome combo of all of those Final 4 animals...

Street Sharks - most extreme animal ever conceived?

I'm Considering the Purchase of New Footwear

I just threw out a pair of socks. The reason for this is because it is raining out. Oh and my shoes have holes on the bottoms. nbd.

I've had these shoes for 6ish years now. They are super comfortable, but I've literally worn the soles down to the point where there is a sizable hole now. And I'm also lazy so I haven't gotten replacement shoes. But I don't really know if I want to. The situation is kind of hilarious. Walking has become a mental game now. Instead of a boring old walk down the sidewalk, I'm strategically avoiding wet puddles, sharp rocks and glass, and other obstacles that will most likely ruin my day with pain or anti-dryness. The downside is that my brain is entirely occupied with where I'm stepping, when clearly I could be thinking about.... let's say.... solving all the maths?

I'll admit though, this game gets a bit tiresome every now and then. Like those moments when I leave for class and it is dry and nice out, but then I'm going home at night and SURPRISE JACKASS, it is pouring rain now. And the walk from Tufts to Central is SUPER WET and there is NO DEARTH OF PUDDLES. Yeah, those socks got destroyed. And for your amusement, here is a picture of Lexie, my family's new puppy. So adorbs.

Picture Unrelated

Astron Song Proposal

The Astron Song, written by Chris Severino and Ryan Stotland, is probably my greatest achievement in college, and surely one of the best works produced at Tufts University. The song was created as a team project for my Astrophysics 22 class. Needless to say, we stunned the professor to speechlessness and all got an A+ in the class. However, behind this epic ballad is a little-known, and potentially equally important aspect of the project itself: the proposal.

This proposal was a gem. We wrote it up in about half an hour, mostly in an attempt to troll our professor with bloated wording that literally held no meaning. The requirements were to describe our proposed topic in the first paragraph, the sources we had found so far in the second, and the type of presentation in the third. She held a class in which she went through each proposal to ensure all the teams had an appropriate topic. As she went down the list of teams in class, she was cutting down proposal left and right. Ryan, our partner Pete, and I were shitting bricks, because we knew that our proposal was held together with nothing more than a few whimsical sentences about nothing, and good intentions. But when she got to ours, she ATE IT UP WITH A SPOON. She loved every second of it. We were blown away. Ryan and I were actually speechless, and we had to go directly to Dewick to discuss how we had beaten the system. It was magnificent. Also, I'll try to highlight the more ridiculous aspects of the article. I present to you, our Astron Song Proposal:

Stellar Evolution: a Tribute to the Life of a Star

The project that we plan to undertake is the life sequence of stars. This includes the possibilities of how a star transforms from its creation until its death. Its life on the main sequence is obviously an important part of the star’s life, so it will be included in our project. How a star becomes a giant and then a dwarf will also be covered. One of the more interesting aspects of this topic, my esteemed colleagues and I have found, is how a star dies. There are many different possibilities for how a star can die, whether it be through a supernova, black hole, or neutron star. We will also go over the various attributes of each phase in a stars life, and how the mass of a star plays an important role in how a star lives and dies.

For a subject as important as stellar evolution we decided to go to the guru of all reference sources: the library catalogue. Upon reaching our master, we found a plethora of available articles that pertained to the subject at hand. We found several websites that are particularly applicable, reliable and just great! One source, an article by Chiosi discusses the H-R diagram in great detail. In the H-R diagram, stars are graphed based on their luminosity and temperature, resulting in a main sequence of stars. It might be helpful to reinforce this concept of a main sequence to have people imagine the main road in their hometown. Most important stores are located on this main street and a store might even be considered to be an outlier should it not be located on this street, like a star that doesn’t fall on the main sequence. (Ok, I have to mention this one. Our professor was SO ADAMANT about the fact that the Main Sequence was like a main road in a town, as if we were incapable of understanding that "a lot of stars are there." She went over this idea on about 6 separate occasions. It was ridiculous. So we ran with it.) Another scintillating article from Jørgen Christensen-Dalsgaard discusses stellar evolution. More specifically it discusses how energy is radiated from the stars and how the star changes from its infancy into its old age. A third article was found, written by James Kaler, concentrates on how a star is formed, how the star evolves, and finally, the different ways a star can die. We were also able to locate a great number of sources in Scientific American and Popular Science.

Many motivated and intelligent students have attempted to put forth an interesting presentation of their topic but have gone down in flames. We are confident despite the great failings of other students in the past that we can put on an original presentation that will be discussed for years to come. For our presentation we plan to compose a lyrical ballad that will capture the beautiful spirit of our fascinating topic. This is only small potatoes compared to the thrilling and captivating PowerPoint slide that will encompass some of the rawest data pertaining to stellar evolution. Both Chris and Ryan will write the lyrics and chords for the song. The presentation involving a greater description of the life sequence of stars will be created by Chris, Ryan, and Pete, and will be delivered by all three as well. This is a very tall order for any mortal, but should we be able to accomplish this almost impossible feat, we will go down in history as the greatest astronomy presenters known to mankind.

We really lost control at the end there. Seriously: we got an A FRIGGN PLUS on this. If you want to hear the actual Astron Song, it's on youtube:

Part 1:

http://www.youtube.com/user/EmperorChrizice#p/u/4/mX3hMi-Z1i8

Part 2:

http://www.youtube.com/user/EmperorChrizice#p/u/5/UPlOlQGXHcw

Yeah, over 11 minutes of pure brilliance. Including a ~2 minute guitar jam session and a harmonica solo. AND guest appearance singers. SO MUCH AWESOMENESS.

Cable Remote Video

I have a hard time watching this video without cracking up. The video is shaking because I'm laughing literally the ENTIRE TIME my Dad goes off on this tangent. And this is just a normal interaction between me and my Dad.

My Dad consistently has no idea how to use our TV. There are two remotes: one for cable and one for TV. One of them has an "all on" button, which is the only thing he uses. But when I come home on the holidays, I flip his world UPSIDE DOWN. (Also, I hid one of the remotes to make him lose his mind. Mission accomplished.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BTZi4wG7WAg

No. Fucking. Way.

This is hilariously impossible. Straight up PREPOSTEROUS. My mind has been blown to the degree in which I am tripping balls. I am tripping ALL THE BALLS. There is not a single ball left un-tripped. In order to join me on this storytelling journey of unfathomable mind-blowingidness (that's a word now btdubs), you're going to have to reference my previous post FOUND HERE.

That time where someone had farty-times while we were alone in the bathroom? Yeah, that is very much involved in another installment of "Is it possible to get fired for laughing in the bathroom at work?"

This particular story begins as I'm, once again, alone in the bathroom at work. This time I'm sitting in the stall playing games on my phone, as I am wont to do. I hear a guy walk in and go over to one of the urinals. Everything is fairly normalsauce for about 5 seconds. Then, like a recurring nightmare: he blows SEVERE ASS. He must have thought he was alone in the bathroom and decided to let one rip. And it wasn't just a "pffftttt" either. It was one of the foulest varieties of gaseous eruption that I have ever heard. The kind that make angels weep.

My immediate instinct is to laugh. Any potentially mature reaction of being shocked/appalled was completely overwhelmed by the fact that this was the funniest thing that has happened to me all day. There was nothing in the Universe that would prevent me from having a lol session, try as I might. So I laughed. I failed miserably at my attempt to stifle it. It was a full-on 2 to 3 second chuckle-fest. My first thought was "holy shit, that was funny, but WTF! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING AGAIN???" Luckily, I was behind closed doors, and thus would be able to avoid any face-to-face awkwardness that would most definitely occur. The thing is, now I had to wait for him to finish and leave the bathroom before I got out of the stall. Whatever, another round of Angry Birds never killed anyone. So I waited until I heard him flush, and then gave him some buffer time to wash his hands and walk out. Ok, so I was in the bathroom for a crazy long time, because he seriously took his time. He must have been drinking incredible amounts of water. So I waited. It was totally worth it, because I had just gotten away with what should have been an EXTREMELY awkward moment. Or so I thought.

I exit the bathroom stall feeling triumphant, and walk towards the sinks to wash my hands. And what do I see? The same guy who urinal-farted the last time I wanted to die from awkwardness. The same fucking guy. How is this possible? How could fate throw this situation at me? Statistically this is either impossible, or this guy farts EVERY TIME he goes to the urinal. What the hell dude? Are you on a diet purely made up of baked beans and Chipotle? I don't know how I survived the next few moments. Everything I've come to understand about how the world works tells me that I should have immediately died. My HOPE is that I tried to play it cool, but in reality who knows. I kind of blacked out due to the sheer force of palpable awkwardness. He was looking at me. I can't remember what expression he had on his face, because the only thing my brain could focus on was how strange my gait must appear with all of my ass muscles simultaneously clenching under his gaze. I seriously don't even remember the rest because my brain was stroking all over the place. By the time I got to the sink area, he was gone. And so ends my second encounter with the guy that I don't know who works on my floor and farts whenever we're alone in the bathroom.

If anyone has any advice on how to deal with the fact that I will eventually walk by him in the halls, please let me know. The only thing I can think of right now is to shoot myself in the face so that I can avoid that situation. UGH.

Seriously though. Hilarious fart. Top notch.

Trust Me, You Should Be Jealous of my Dreams

Holy crap, I am the greatest at having the best dreams ever. I'm not even exaggerating. If you ever get the opportunity to be in some crazy science experiment to be transplanted into my dreams, even for one day, you should absolutely take advantage of that seemingly insane option. Sure, it might be a trick to steal all your organs or splice your DNA with a turtle so that you can live in a sewer and learn ninja skills from a talking rat so that you can fight crime, but if it's not, mmmm boy: you're in for a treat.

This weekend I had an epic recreation session in Portland, Maine (to make up for a concussion-y, theft-ful ski trip in New Hampshire the other night) with a renegade band of misfits bent on super awesometimes at Maine breweries. I don't know if it was this particular "Cribz-level mansion-esque hotel room that only cost $40," but my dreams were of the highest caliber. I won't be able to do it justice by explaining it, but take my word for it: it was some serious shit. It was literally the funniest dream I've ever had. I laughed so hard in the dream that I actually started rofling really hard in real life. To the point where I woke everyone up in the hotel room, including myself.

And if I'm not having the most lol-ful dreams in the world, I'm having the most epic adventure dreams that have ever been conceived. Trust me: every one of my dreams could be an awesome movie, and you should want to be a part of them (don't ask me how, because I'm pretty sure Inception isn't possible yet). To sate you until that day comes, here are a few more dreams from my freshman year:

3/23/05

My Dad, sister, and I were creeping through an empty, deserted building to stay away from creatures that attack people. It was on a beach somewhere (I don't know why I wrote that. Knowing the setting of this edifice does literally nothing for the plot of the dream). I wanted to play a casino-shark-looking guy in a crazy, made-up card game for some reason, assuming that by playing a guy who is really good at cards, I will win. Logical.

There was also some winter scene dream in which some Tufts friends and I had to escape an ice fortress by sledding down a mountain.

3/24/05

I was setting up for a game of dodgeball. Not many people were there yet: just me, Matt, and some girls whom I went to middle school with. We played a round, then my Tufts friends and I went to a store in Davis Square. I met a guy in the square, who set a date and time for when I was going to die. I later learned that it was the Grim Reaper. I was able to get out of it by hiding in a bush, so he scheduled another place to kill me. When I showed up (I actually showed up to my pre-scheduled meeting for death? That doesn't sound like something I would do), I ran around telling people that he was trying to kill me. He didn't want to do it in front of everyone, so he made another appointment.

Later, I was trying to study prehistoric fish for some test. I went to lunch with a few Muslim students at Tufts. They got mad that I played a violent sport like dodgeball, so they kicked me out of the room. Well THAT was unfriendly of them!

3/26/05

I was dreaming about my housing situation at Tufts, but then had to go out to dinner. I forgot my shoes and realized that there was a party in the room that I left them in, and I needed a toga to get in. Luckily, I had just taken a shower, and had a towel on.

Back at Tufts, no one knew where Arlen was. Suddenly, we were going to war with seven different territories of creatures that looked like they were from the Never Ending Story. We beat three so far. That was it. Man, that looked like it was about to get good.

3/28/05

The dream began with a lot of my friends and some randos at a dinner party. One or two zombies showed up about mid-way through. We tried killing them by bashing their skulls, but it was very difficult. They started turning some of the guests into zombies by biting them. At this point, about half the attendees were zombies. Some girl came up to talk to me and said something really dumb. I was great at detecting who is a zombie (this is a recurring ability of mine in all my zombie dreams. I think it is the most valuable skill set during the zombie apocalypse), and discovered that she was in the process of becoming a zombie. I hit her in the head with a pipe, but she didn't die, and for some reason, this meant that she was clearly a zombie (yikes, I can't believe the "are you a zombie?" test includes smashing somebody in the head, and if it doesn't smash their brains out, they are a zombie. Rough place to live for sure). Some girl named Karen (how do I know her name and why is it relevant? The shit I choose to write down is pretty boggling sometimes) asked me how I could detect zombies. While she asked, one of the zombies started attacking her, but I saved her. I was about to run out the door with her, since almost everyone inside was a zombie by now. I called out to Gary and Jordan (friends from home and Tufts, respectively) to escape with me, but they told me that they couldn't because they were turning into zombies.

Karen and I ran out while the zombies tried to follow. We ran to the top of the Tufts hill. The zombie version of Jimmy (my best friend) came at us, but I talked to him and got through to the last remnants of his human side, and instead of attacking us, he helped us. He showed us a trail to go down the hill secretly, so we were able to get away. Karen was now Lauren (my girlfriend at the time). We walked through Medford, seeing warrants for our arrest as we tried to escape. We stole a car and got away. Then Lauren started singing a song, which turned out to be the song that was playing on my alarm clock, so I woke up.

Dream Journal Number 1: Continued

These are from freshman year, and they are completely blowing my mind. They are so effing ridiculous.

2/12/05

I was collecting a lot of different flavored drinks, like bubble-gum flavored juice and a bunch of other weird ones. That is all I remember. Ok, that one was a dud. What the fuck could I have been dreaming about?

2/13/05

I was about to engage in a foursome with Lauren (my girlfriend at the time) and two other girls, but Hitler forced us to move to another building (whoa, that is an intense start to a dream. Hitler and foursomes? Holy fuck). They played music really loud as we walked to this building. The other two girls we were with turned into Jimmy and Asako (my best friend from home and his girlfriend at the time). The only way to get to the doors was to climb a huge hill that was almost vertical. We tried, but kept slipping back down. When we finally got up, we had to fight a Predator that guarded the house. At this point, there was only me and some animal, and the Predator blew most of the walls down to get to us. Me and the animal ran to the side of a wall and I started shooting with my chain gun. That's all I remember of this dream.

The second dream started with me and some friends from Lewis (my freshman year dorm) wanting to go up to New Hampshire, but we had to work on our AutoCAD project. We trudged through neck-deep snow to get to the engineering building, but when we got there, Kessler (friend from home) was already there. He brought some rich fancy game that could either shock people or be used as a knife. It was weird.

2/18/05

I was on some vacation, but I had to study wave equations for my physics test. I went downstairs to eat and ordered a hamburger from the place in the campus center that grills stuff. They said they were out of beef, so I ordered a chicken burger. While I waited for it to cook, I knocked over some guy's chicken parm. I told him I would pay for it, but when I found out it was $40, I booked it out of there. All the women who worked there had weird hair. Of course, why would their hair be normal? I love how stupid my details are.

In another dream, I was walking around Tufts in a snowstorm and was attacked by some kid with snowballs. He kind of looked like Slippy from Starfox. I wasn't able to balance myself or run in the dream, so I got really pissed off (oh man I seriously hate those dreams). I eventually met him in their dorm, but we were getting ready to go out. I went to their bathroom area, but everyone was naked, so I got weirded out and left.

In a third dream, I got a call from some guy, who in real life I was getting these stupid emails saying "Have a nice day." In the dream, he said on the phone, "stop sending me emails that say 'have a nice day.'" I told him that I was getting those from him, and that I thought it was a virus. Some lady told me that this person was dead after I hung up. Then weird ghost-like shit started happening. Somebody let a cat inside, and once downstairs, he became a demon cat. Then he was eaten by a bigger demon cat (what the fuck is going on here? why am I so bad at dreaming about normal stuff? And why do I sound like a 4-year-old when I write these while I'm still half-asleep?). I eventually had to seek this guy out in a shady, darkly lit building to get rid of the ghosts and demon cats. I was about to go into a dark menacing room when I woke up.

2/21/05

I ate a really enormous bowl of rice soup. I ate it for a really long time. It wasn't an interesting dream; I just kept getting more in my spoon and eating it. BAHAHAHAHAHA I can't believe that is the whole friggn dream!

In another dream, me, Jimmy, and Gary (friend from home who we re-named because there was already a David) were doing all the missions of Goldeneye, but in real life. We got to where we had to fight everybody off in the facility while Gary tried to set a cheat code to finish the mission. We shot SO MANY PEOPLE. We never found the code, but we ended up killing everybody anyway.

2/26/05

Chelsea (friend from home and Tufts) and I went to get ice cream, and she pointed out that they had LEGO ice cream. It was insane and awesome. It was semi-solid so you can build your own ice cream cone. I ate a few Lego cones. That's actually a pretty awesome idea. PATENT PENDING.

3/4/05 Nap

I was in Boston with Lauren, and some of her friends came to visit. I broke one of my T tokens, and when I bent it back into shape, it was elongated (holy crap, I can't believe I forgot that we used to have tokens!). I could hold onto it while I put it in the coin return, so that I never had to actually spend the token. Score. All of us took a semi-tour of Tufts, with one of Lauren's friends claiming she knew her way around. We got into an elevator, but all it did was go up and down: it never stopped at any floor. One of her idiotic friends enjoyed it.

Later on we were in New York and me, Kyle, and Ryan (friends from Tufts) had to kill Raven (my freshman year roommate) because he was actually an evil spy. At first we could turn into dinosaurs. Kyle was a Triceratops, Ryan was a Tyrannosaurus, and I was a Stegosaurus. We messed him up pretty good in a fight. I went to go get my silenced gun to finish him off. It was in my mailbox, but I couldn't get it since other people were watching me. Then some lady questioned me about why I had the mailbox to myself, and where Raven was. We eventually killed both her and Raven.

Later, in another dream, I was happy that I my first dream wasn't real and that I didn't actually kill anyone, because I felt really guilty. Lauren ran off a bridge though, for no reason. A cop came up to me and accused me of pushing her off the bridge. People didn't believe me, until Lauren eventually came back and we played card games. Ah, that's good. All's well that end's well I suppose. "Oh, how was randomly jumping off a bridge and getting me accused of manslaughter? Ok good. Do you have any 8's?"

3/9/05 Most epic nap I've ever taken

Ryan and I were having a nice dinner. I was dressed up in my Eagle Scout uniform since it was a dinner for a scout ceremony. Lauren came and sat with us, but when we looked away, she ran and sat at a table with her BU friends. Ryan and I got up to see the small performance they were showing, but it blew. I saw some people from Tufts: Diana, Oanh, and Jordan. Oanh was naked though. It was strange, because everybody acted like everything was normal.

In another dream, people were being evacuated in a future-looking Boston because some weird disease was spreading. My dream was of a third-person view of some alien looking blob shooting lasers at dumb, ugly looking mutant things (I think my brain is broken). As the blob progressed, he faced more and more difficult creatures, all the while changing into some polygon warrior creature. This creature eventually evolved into a person, and then it became me. (I can't express enough how mind blowing it was to go from third-person to first-person in a dream, after WATCHING some thing evolve into myself. HOW DO I COME UP WITH THIS?) I had to go help Lauren evacuate, so I ran to BU. I was afraid to go in though, because the main lobby had all these evil creatures, so I started to call her. Then I woke up.

When I went back to sleep, I was outside of BU as myself in a similar dream and situation as the first (it was actually a continuation of the other dream from where I left off. How fucked up is that?). I was on the phone with Lauren, telling her to get out since Boston was being evacuated. I ran to try to find a place to get evacuated from, but they all started leaving without us. Kyle, who was working as a medic to treat and sedate the people so they could be evacuated, saw me and helped me. He was good at taking my blood and stuff, and after a bit we were ready to go. All of a sudden, the main doctor attacked me. He had black color pigment around his pupils, meaning he was a zombie (I just knew, ok? Deal with it). I asked Kyle to help, and he turned around. His pupils are huge in real life, so I thought he was a zombie too, which he wasn't. We both started smashing the doctor's head in with pans, but he tried to stab me. I grabbed the blade of his knife to save myself from getting stabbed in the heart, and it hurt a shitload. The doctor died right when I woke up.

In the last dream, I continued the same dream from where I left off (this is ridiculous). I was with Lauren, escaping BU in this epic dream. I killed two zombies in the Warren Towers with the knife. We ran, being chased by zombies, to the line where they put you to get evacuated. They checked our eyes, and we got in. So did Kyle. We were finally on our way to being saved.

That was mind-blowingly intense. A three-part dream about an epic escape from a zombie attack. My past-self impresses me.

Bird People Suck

I was looking through some pictures from my California trip, and they reminded me of a group of people that I absolutely despise: bird-watchers.

Seriously, I would have no problem if every person who describes themselves as a bird-watcher suddenly stopped existing. First off: WHY BIRDS? Shut up, don't even answer that question. Just go to hell.

What is cooler than taking photos of birds? MOST THINGS.

Here's a little anecdote of the moment I realized both the existence of, and my immediate hatred of, bird people:

Rebecca and I were driving through Point Reyes National Seashore near San Francisco. We were having an awesome time checking out the cliffs and beaches, and it was the first time I had ever been in the Pacific Ocean, so I was obviously really pumped. We were driving around on our way to check out the lighthouse, and we saw a group of people on the side of the road all looking at something. We pulled over, thinking "whoa, something awesome must be over there, let's go check it out!" Rebecca said something along the lines of "I think it is a lion or something!" I can't be certain, but it was definitely something about lions. I was flabbergasted to the point of speechlessness. After a few moments of mentally dealing with the fact that my friend just suggested what might be the LEAST POSSIBLE EVENT IN ALL DIMENSIONS AND TIMELINES, we walk towards the group of people to check out whatever it is that they were looking at (after telling Rebecca that there was a 0% chance of it being a lion). We walk up and notice that there are about 25 people, all with cameras more expensive than their equivalent weight in gold, all taking pictures of a little brown friggn bird. It wasn't even doing anything cool. It was just sitting there like some useless bucket of uncooked chicken fingers whose only reason for existence is to piss me off.

I was livid. These people caused me to waste MINUTES of my life by pulling over and walking around as if there was something worthy of my time and effort. I could have cured cancer AND aids in that time they wasted. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's exactly how I would have spent that time. Thanks a lot assholes, I could have cured all the cancer and Super-Aids. Way to go.

So, there you have it. The reason why I hate bird people, and the reason why we, as a society, don't have the cures for cancer or aids.

PS. That is a picture I took of a Raven at Point Reyes. There is nothing wrong with taking pictures of birds as long as you keep your grip on sanity. I took this picture while eating my lunch: I didn't go seek it out, I didn't waste any time that could have been used curing all the cancer. It friggn came over to me looking for food, and after I took a picture, I threw rocks at it until it went away. Like what most normal people would do. I assume.