BOO

Its Halloween and a Friday night yet I still find time to update my precious blog. What an awful word blog is. Take a few seconds to say it aloud and you'll see what I mean. Blog bloggggg blooooogggg. 

Anyways many people have been asking me what I'm being for Halloween (not true, just an easy transition). I am planning to dress up as Dr. Mcninja. For those who don't know who that is, he is a doctor who is also a ninja. He is also the star of the webcomic aptly named Dr. Mcninja. I suggest you all visit DrMcninja.com so that you will truly understand why I felt the need to adorn myself in this fashion. 

I have black spandex, a labcoat, several plastic weapons, and a mask, where the hell am i going to find a stethoscope?

      

Why yes, yes I do play Virtual Volleyball.

If you don't love the Boston Museum of Science you probably also hate kittens and puppies and cake. That being said, The Museum of Science is the greatest place ever.

For those of you reading this blog who aren't from Massachusetts, for shame! You have not known the joys of the omni theatre, the terror of the giant electric tesla coil, the excitement of racing those lights in that playground exhibit (does anyone know what I'm talking about?), or the magic of the musical stairs.

Among those select few who know of the things I mentioned above, there is an even select-er few who know of virtual volleyball. Virtual volleyball is awesome because its a video game you PLAY WITH YOUR BODY. Even better, I'm pretty sure it was built in the late 80's, way before similar upstarts like the Wii. Basically a projector makes a silhouette of your body on a screen, and the screen is a 2 dimensional volleyball court. If the ball on the screen touches the silhouette of your body on the screen, it bounces. Totally sweet.

Anyways that's all I really have to say for today, and don't feel too bad if you have no idea what I'm talking about, kittens/puppies/cake aren't that great anyway....

Gotta Catch 'em All

Recently I've been playing a lot of pokemon on an emulator on my computer. While I've been seriously kicking ass with my snorlax and company, I have also turned my attention to the "Pokemon World" or whatever its called. Screw 1984, this is a real Utopian society. Let me explain:

1. There's no cars or automobiles or internal combustion motors (except for bikers which have motorcycles in the picture but say they're on bicycles). Global warming would so not be an issue if I could just hope on my pigeotto and fly somewhere.

2. Free pokecenters/ridiculous technology. You can store animal things in tiny balls, yet everyone rides bikes? Yeah ok.

3. The only crime is rather silly. Team rocket repeatedly challenges you to poke-battles, seeming to forget that they could forcibly pick you up and throw you somewhere. 

In conclusion, the world would be a better place if there were pokemon, but you already knew that didn't you?

Moths

This is my blog and thusly I shall write about things which are important to me. What is important to me today is the absurd amount of tiny moths living in my floor's showers.

Their existence was first made known to me when I noticed that what i thought were specks of dirt on the walls of the shower were in fact moving and often floating around seemingly by their own will. While I was trying to remember what kind of drug I could have possibly procured at my christian college could cause such an event, I stumbled upon the more reasonable possibility of moths.

These moths seem to be waterproof and over my last few shower visits I've decided they're pretty chill. Or at least chill enough to take showers with I guess.

TV Glasses vs. Socks

I was thinking about random things while walking from class and this popped into my head 5

In case you can't tell these are the eponymous TV GLASSES. Why I was thinking about them I can't really say. But what was remarkable is that I discovered that TV glasses are rather similar to socks. You may be thinking "Nathan, that's crazy. How can TV glasses possibly be similar to socks?"

And I would say to you, I may be crazy, but behind this seemingly crazy thought is a rational explanation. The attraction of TV glasses is that they give the illusion of a big tv while instead being small tv's REALLY close to your eyeballs. In this analogy between tv glasses and socks, the big tv is carpet. 

Wearing socks is like having carpet everywhere! 

That's really the only original thought in this blog post and honestly I dragged it out too long anyway.

Airports Smell Like Malls

I'm currently bored sitting in the Pittsburgh airport while sullenly eating my greasy pizza and trying to remember how I'm getting back to college. It took me a few minutes to realize that the outlet my computer was plugged into was a fiendish trap. A trap in the sense that it doesn't work, but a trap nonetheless.  The outlet was near a comfy chair and a window with a view. The only outlets that work are the ones situated by the bathrooms. Take from that what you will.

Self-Styled Musings

Hello and good afternoon.

My good friend Adam made a blog (http://surrealistblog.blogspot.com/) and I decided to follow suit. I haven't really decided what I'm going to write about but theoretically it will be amusing and distracting. For now, anyone reading this will have to make do with a ridiculous story I wrote for a college essay, but turned out to be too long:

The King and I

It was a bright morning in Andover Massachusetts, and I was excited. Today I was meeting my friends at the high school to play Frisbee. Since my father refuses to drive anyone anywhere within biking distance on days above freezing, I hopped on my red mountain bike and ventured forth. I donned my silver helmet and pulled out of the driveway, awkwardly pedaling my bike with my cleats on. As I turned the corner to Abbot Bridge (which I had to cross to get to the school), a long line of cars greeted me.

As I neared the center of the bridge, I was startled to find that two young women were the cause of the traffic jam. Perhaps 25 years of age and both bleached blond, they had left their silver convertible running in the middle of the street. To my utter astonishment, they had left their car in order to coax an enormous snapping turtle from the road. They were calling to it as if it was a dog, but fearing for their lives would venture no closer. One of them turned to me and asked, “Could you help?”, then promptly thanked me, and drove off. Now left with the company of the turtle, I felt the gaze of a hundred eyes upon me, waiting to see my next move.

I circled the enormous beast as a hunter circles its prey, seeking an opportunity. The turtle watched me wistfully from the black pools that were his eyes. I shuddered as I imagined the awesome strength of those monster jaws. Its mottled shell dulled from years of battle shone in the sun. I began to perspire under my helmet; a trickle of sweat ran down my forehead. Time stood still. I realized I must get this turtle off the bridge. But the beast was immovable, the size of myself, and thickly armored. He was angry too; I could sense it, frustrated and trapped in a world he did not understand. In a flash, I knew what needed to be done.

I slipped off my helmet as the honking dulled to a roar, deadened by the sound of my beating heart. My cleats made a clicking noise as I approached the snapping turtle. I began to tap the guardrail of the bridge with my silver helmet, first softly, then as I walked closer, progressively louder. I was five feet from the animal when the clattering crescendo grew too much. The beast charged!

My eyes narrowed, the turtle approached at its top speed of about 2. I thought I could feel the ground shaking as it approached. I resumed banging as I backed up. I stared into its eyes, willing it to follow, trying to replace its fear with anger. One step, then two, the yellow line of the road slowly passed under our feet. Man and beast locked in a frantic dance. The path to the river was close; I could feel the mist of the water at the back of my neck. I felt gravel crunch under my feet and realized I had left the road. I paused and waited. Nothing. I could only see the wall of the bridge. I was shocked. I had failed, the turtle had given up. My heart sunk.

Suddenly a head, a neck, tentative at first then relaxed the turtle emerged from the bridge, off the road onto the path. I backed reverently out the river king’s way. Watching his slow descent into the river. Above us, cars began to move again, harmony returned. The majestic animal stepped into his domain, and for a moment seemed to turn and looked back at me. Ours eyes met for what would be the last time. His gaze seemed to say “Well done, young one, well done.” At once, he was gone; I looked at the water for a long time. Then as quietly as he, I left that place, only to return in dream.