so i'm moving back to maryland. i'm sure some of you didn't even know i was gone. from college park we can continue our tradition of not hanging out and being uncomfortable around each other.

it's been more than a little while since i last posted. honestly, i didn't feel that i had much to contribute. i'm not a cheerleader who agrees with everybody on here and pushes the usual agenda, but i'm not enough of an outsider to really be entertaining. but i've got something to say to our friend.

sorry about them ribs, josh.

i have this friend that i've known for quite some time. while the exact name for our type of relationship has always been sort of up-for-grabs, it's pretty safe to say that she means a lot to me. but sometimes she gets crazy, and when given a window of oppurtunity she will do THE EXACT FUCKING OPPOSITE of the right thing. i've told her to forget all about it anyway.

i was there, grimacing along with you. shit, that must have hurt. i hope you haven't had to go to the hospital over the whole incident, but if you have i will steal whatever vital organs you may need from the homegirl that is responsible.

so yeah, it seems like everybody got some sort on injury at the july 4 gathering. i woke up so hungover and scarred that i just had to lay low for a while. that one picture of me sitting on the trampoline while everybody covers their mouths in horror is pretty priceless. the next day i looked even worse, because the swelling had started, and what was once just an imprint of the trampoline spring on my forehead became a spring-shaped bruise. i went to work looking like a straight gangsta.

as far as i can tell, i didn't go as late as the rest of y'all, but i still had a great time. i want to thank everybody who cleaned up what might be my barf. and i also want to thank the bands, because i think they helped turn up the intensity a tad.

you know, one day y'all bamas are going to want to move out of that house. when you do, throw a party that will make the newspapers. crash a bus into the living room. get everybody on the trampoline, THEN SET IT ON FIRE.

so my dad's brother-in-law is this wild and crazy guy. in a certifiable sense. he's been developing this conspiracy theory centered around the azores and portugal for almost 30 years now. i don't really see what he's getting at, but he's a nut. along the way, he's obtained a phd in portugese history (possibly the most useless degree of all time), and has been deported out of every practically every country in europe.

he's all up in the public health system now, which kind of worries my family because they're trying to force lobotomy-inducing drugs on him, and it would be sort of sad to watch this guy devolve from mild-mannered eccentric to a drooling meat slab. of course, he could refuse the treatment, but there are consequences to that.

another thought that's been lurking in the back of mind is: what if he's right? i mean, conspiracies and dirty deeds are committed everywhere, all the time. what if he had spent the last 30 years obsessing over east timor? there's a lot of truth out there that the general public doesn't want to face, which creates a willingness to silence the eccentrics that run after it.

here's a fun little bit from my friend Daniel's myspace blog. he works the night shift at a kinko's, which means he babysits all the bums and creepy perverts of springfield VA.

"Total high point of the day: Black dude in a suit shouts at me across the room "fax?!" I gape. "Fax machine?!" He seems somewhat exasperated. "Is this the fax?" He's tapping on a cabinet while he speaks. He thinks the cabinet sends faxes. No joke; a big, clunky, old cabinet with "White Paper 11X17" written on the front. The homeless woman circulates as well, muttering gibberish. "

so i'm in the middle of this job hunt. i was expecting to just get my old job back, but they weren't too excited about the idea. it's true that i've already quit the place three times, but hey, i can only take a job as seriously as a job takes me. when we were younger, we would all talk about "careers" and shit, but i can see now how that was sort of a collective fantasy. in this case, more than ever, i see a job as something that prevents me from doing what i really want to do. unfortunately, my lack of funds makes it necessary for me to go prostitute myself out there.

in some ways, daniel has a very clear worldview. he considers time and money to be interchangeable. he gives his job time, he gives other activities time, and money handed out. like everybody who works for an hourly wage, he's angry because his time is not worth quite what it should be.

he thinks employers are blood-sucking monsters, devouring your life one shift at a time. taking you away from your chosen interests. i have to agree.

he calls people that waste his time "Time Vampires."

hey everybody, this is dustin making that first post. there's a few folks out there who may know who i am, but i've been pretty antisocial for the last few years. i just moved out of Satan House (sob), and up into the old PG area. i might have a head eventually, but if so i hope ben knows that i cut my hair a month ago.

if we haven't met yet, then here's a quick description of myself: i'm a 6' white dude with ties to both VA and MD. i plays bass in bands, and i'm currently looking for something new now that my last "real" band broke up. sonny and josh can vouch for my character. i just moved into greenbelt yesterday. you could say i've slowed down a bit since moving to VA. i don't have any outstanding substance abuse or emotional problems, contrary to what some people may tell you.