It Ends

Well the rapture is today guys. I'm writing this at around 5:15 so apparently I have about 45 minutes of my life left. Just kidding. The rapture is for the really good people. Dunno about you guys, but I'm probably still gonna be around come tomorrow. To all you good people who will no longer be with us, I just want you to know that I will continue to sin and commit crimes in your honor. Also if you have a hot spouse that is less virtuous than yourself, consider her mine. I don't know why these guys are in such a hurry to leave Earth. Sure Heaven sounds nice, but I'd like to spend as much time here as possible. I mean, look at all I'd be leaving behind. What would the Earth do if we weren't around to rape it constantly? There would be soooooo many resources and the air would be toxin free. And what about the ozone? I know for a fact that it enjoys having a hole in it. This way its easier for us to fuck it. Plus we have the sworn duty of driving other species extinct. They need to get to Heaven too, right?

But fo realz, what is with all these doomsday predictions? These things have been rampant since Norse mythology and beyond, but here we are! It's easy to throw out an apocalypse theory because one day the world will end. But when the world ends, it's going to be because the sun implodes and leaves our planet in utter darkness, or because we finish burning off the ozone layer, or if a meteor collides with us at a rapid velocity like in that shitty movie Impact. It depends on your definition of "the end of the world". I personally consider "the end of the world" to mean the literal obliteration of Earth, because despite what many people think, the world will go on without us humans. And to address the 2012 believers, you are duuuuumb. Just because the Mayan calendar ends there doesn't mean that is also the end of the world. It ends there because they made a new calendar every x amount of years, but they couldn't make a new one after that because they got wiped out by drought and overhunting of megafauna and stuff.

The world goes on. Deal with it. Don't be too sad when you're still here in a few minutes, all you people who think you're the cream of the crop. Stop preparing to die and start preparing to nurse your bruised egos.

-Classic

Conor - It Begins

"Conor, we both get 4 for that one!" Robert yelled at me from the tower of his playground fortress. I had just tossed him one of the offensive balls (or "brewskies") I was holding so he could nail someone as they ran away, and our temporary alliance had landed us 4 megatons a piece. Which put me at 11 megatons. It was time.

"4, you say? Oh uhhhhh CASH MONEY" I yelled back. I threw the other brewskie I was holding casually behind me and made a mad dash for the 5 money balls and I scooped up 4 of them. I starting clumsily sprinting towards the Bank, but Robert wasn't happy with my manipulation with the system. As others scrambled to get the brewskies Robert descended from his tower and started running to intercept me. He rammed into me at full speed like some kind of bull, and we both fell to the ground. As I collapsed I only lost one of the money balls, but Nick or someone ran up and hit me with one of the brewskies so I had to let go of another one. Robert kept knocking me around with his shoulders, but I managed to stumble to my feet and sprint away. As I sprinted away I got hit with another brewskie so I only had one money ball left, and there were several people running towards me, in between me and my objective. I danced around a few of them before someone checked me to the ground and I lost my last chance to score.

I laid on the pavement of Butler Elementary School and coughed. This had completely knocked the wind out of me, but it was pretty fun. My leg was all scraped up from Robert's takedown, but this is exactly what Brian and I had had in mind when we invented the game, hours earlier. Brian laughed as he  walked over to help me up.

Ca$h mUnnE was a modest success, at the very least.

- -

The only difference between my driving in Grand Theft Auto IV, a game where you play as a criminal in New York who kills people for money and generally does immoral, terrible things, and L.A. Noire, a game where you play as a detective in 1947 Los Angeles who (supposedly) protects the public and solves crimes and mysteries, is that the game doesn't punish me when I land on somebody with my car in L.A. Noire, ending their sad, virtual existence in a bloody, cathartic crash. 

My partner in the passenger seat yells "Slow down, Cole!" in response to how I just destroyed that fool. "Slow down, Cole," not "Cole, we're LAPD officers on our way to solve a single murder and here you are littering the streets with the bodies of those unlucky enough to be crossing the street as you careen unpredictably at clearly illegal speeds." All in all, he's reacting pretty calmly to my killing spree. 

There are a bunch of optional missions in this game where you answer calls for backup and things like that, situations where a guy's sortof lost in and is shooting up a street or something like that. It's possible to apprehend some of these people with shooting them to death, but uhhh that's not my style. The coroner is going to earn his wage while I'm in town. 

I feel like my detective avatar has to know the hell he's going to end up in once he dies. I'm sure he can smell the rotting flesh of his eternal suffering, I'm sure he's already sweating just thinking about how hot the flames will be.

But he's definitely not waiting for red lights to turn green, collateral damage be damned.

- - 

I walked up to bed, tired from my 10 hour drive back to Illinois, but excited to be home and excited to sleep in my own bed again. I peered into my room and remembered how shitty and messy my own room is and how overrated my own bed is and then remembered how awesome Betsy's room is, so I decided to sleep in there instead.

As I twisted the doorknob to Betsy's room it fell out of it's socket and into my hand. "Oh yeah," I thought. "This door has been fucked up for years, and nobody's fixed it. Cool. Great." I inserted the doorknob back into the door and opened it. There wasn't even a doorknob on the other side, so I left the door ajar and went to sleep.

ONLY TO WAKE UP TO A SEA OF KITTENS what a bittersweet sensation. Annoyed and groggy I threw them out of the room and slammed the door. "That'll show 'em," I thought as I returned to bed.

Okay awesome time to start the day what a beautiful day it will be I can't wait to see everybody I wonder if there's any food in the pantrWHERE IS THE DOORKNOB OH RIGHT

I was the only one home, so I spent 5 minutes trying to MacGayver the door with a coat hanger. It turns out you have to be really awesome in order to actually pull that one off, so I called Nick, who lives across the street. I hadn't seen him since getting back the day before, and 10 minutes later we had our glorious reunion as he freed me from my prison.

As luck would have it, I'm actually locked in Betsy's room once more as I type these words. I didn't think about what I was doing and shut the door behind me. My father has a text message waiting for him downstairs, asking him to let me out whenever he wakes up. Let's hope that he looks at his phone before he goes to referee those soccer games. If not, I hope you see this post, Nick. You should come over and check on me.

- -

Summer begins. I am unemployed, aimless, getting lots of sleep, seeing lots of people, and having lots of fun. Expect updates as details emerge.

Irrational Fears

by Brendan Cavanagh

I have three irrational fears. But if you take into account the events that precipitated each fear, then maybe they're not so irrational.  Maybe...they are, in fact, rational.

Band-Aids

Growing up, my family returned every summer to the Knights of Columbus pool.  Once I hit puberty, I became dissatisfied with the maximum depth of the pool- four feet, four inches.  But I kept going anyway.  One year, I decided, "Hey I should wear goggles underwater so my eyes won't burn and I'll be able to accurately see what goes on down there!"  What was I thinkinnnnnggg?  Upon donning those goggles I was exposed to the invisible filth of the floor of the pool, and somehow that floating around on top and in the corners- hair, garbage and BAND-AIDS!!  I felt like the people in Plato's allegory of the cave, unable to return to my prior state of innocence and blindness.  I don't even like to wear fresh band-aids anymore.  I'm scarred for life, and that is a wound that cannot be healed with the help of a band-aid.

Opening Presents in Front of the Giver

Don't get me wrong, I love receiving presents.  But I have this inexplicable anxiety when I have to open them in front of the person who gave them to me during the mandatory present-opening ceremony that takes place at every one of my family birthday parties.  I guess I feel like my display of enthusiasm and appreciation is too phony, and I think in a way my anxiety actually does make my zeal less believable.  I get so worried that the giver will think they've chosen the wrong gift and thus pity themselves and their gift selection.  I think it all started when I was a kid and my aunt gave me a copy of N*Sync's No Strings Attached, which I already had.  I definitely appreciated the gesture, but I couldn't being myself to admit that I already had it.  She asked me if I had it yet and I replied with a half-hearted "No!." but I think she figured it out.

Ziploc Bags With Air Still in Them

Just don't like 'em.  Weird-looking.  Also I worry about conservation of space in the fridge.

Why our posts sometimes suck

Classic Brian. It is a fun blog to write for. I cannot emphasize how thankful I am that we started this blog up. However, as much as all fun things are, it can be a bit of an obligation at times. Namely, when I'm hanging out with people on Wednesdays. This is typically problematic in the summertime (it's Summer! 2011 here we go woot woot yeayayaeya!), and most prevalently, it's a problem right now.

When one of us has to post and we're in the midst of socializing with friends, Classic Brian becomes a hasty struggle to give something semi-presentable or at least chuckle worthy whilst not at all trying. I typically write long posts. But let's not kid ourselves, I'm not giving you my full attention, so I'm not going to drone on and on about something that you and I both know I don't care about.

Instead I offer this post to you as an apology for this post, along with all other posts done by CB members in social settings. Additionally, I will provide you with several examples of Classic Brian posts completed in the midst of others.

(Don't) Enjoy!

http://classicbrian.blogspot.com/2011/05/summertime.html

http://classicbrian.blogspot.com/2011/04/nick-kids-show.html

http://classicbrian.blogspot.com/2011/04/story-madam.html

http://classicbrian.blogspot.com/2011/04/tynan-creator.html

http://classicbrian.blogspot.com/2011/03/sb-dub-11-whoo.html

http://classicbrian.blogspot.com/2011/03/u-of-irobot.html

http://classicbrian.blogspot.com/2011/03/kiss-my-assistant-editor.html

http://classicbrian.blogspot.com/2011/01/conor-road-to-hell.html

http://classicbrian.blogspot.com/2010/11/ramblings-and-runnings-from-me-to-us.html

Hope you're feeling nostalgic! Have a good Wednesday Classics.

--Eliot Sill

Title.

I really hate people. I also really hate Facebook. Despite these facts I still constantly check Facebook tosee  what people are doing and saying. Almost masochistic. Sometimes I even click on the "most recent" button on my homepage just so I can see what people are saying right at this moment and criticize it as soon as it gets posted. For today's post I have decided to go to my "most recent" items on my news feed and comment on what I see. I have yet to look at what's there so let's hope this turns out to be interesting.

Status: "The mothership has landed"
-Awesome. Cryptic messages that only you understand in an attempt to make you sound interesting. Unfortunately I have no idea why you said that so I do not find it interesting at all and immediately ignore it. NICE TRY.


19 friends changed their profile pictures
-In what universe would this be remotely interesting news to anyone. Does any one see one of these posts and actually check to see who changed their profile picture? Certainly not. If I care what your profile picture is, I'll just go to your page later and look through all of them just like I do every night. Stop acting like you know who I want to creep on Facebook.


Status: "I could funnel a quart of chocolate milk right now"
-That's actually really impressive. This was a girl by the way. I'd like to see that. 

Status: "Yes just submitted my application to Toys R Us"
-Yeah I bet that job sounds awesome to you right now. What a hilarious thing to put on your resume for years to come. What an interesting conversation starter when people ask where you work. In the meantime you work in a big warehouse full of unsettling dolls and plastic nerf guns. Enjoy dealing with the complaints of angry parents who think it's your fault that their kid broke a toy. Oh, and don't forget to to clean up all the crap that 4 year old just threw on the ground in aisle 3.

Status: " Everytime I leave Illinois...all I can think about is how I need to make it permanent....in Oregon now...this place is truly majestic"
-Illinois is not the worst place in the world but I completely agree. I have no intention of living here when I am an adult and Oregon is pretty bad ass. Really I don't plan on living anywhere permanently until I'm about 40 years old. Dis gurl know wat up!!!

Status: "Girls night!!"
-Number one: who has girls nights? What are we, married women who need time away from the husband they live with day in and day out? Nope. You are a 19 year old girl who wants to play dress up. Number two: no one on Facebook cares who you are hanging out with tonight. No one gained anything  in learning that you aren't going to be hitting on any dudes tonight. In fact, I feel a bit more vapid and superficial after reading that and the comments that ensued. They were there, I couldn't help myself.


Any status that involves a "see more" hyperlink.
-I really don't care that much and I am certainly not going to click on that hyperlink. Now the part I did read makes no goddamn sense. Brevity please!


Status: "What?! Vanessa Carlton is using My Morning Jacket's drummer. I always knew it was ok to have all her albums."
-Wow. Carrie is super lame. Am I right??

Random girl added 54 new photos to SuMeRtImE 2011 <3<3
-Again, if I feel like going through a hundred of your photos, I will, but Facebook does not need to try to guess whose photos I will be looking through. I'm super not interested in a thousand picture of girls in full length dresses and corsages. Shocker, I know.

Status: " HuRdLeS are DONE!!!! YAY!!!! Tonight was AMAZING!!!! I'm soo honored to be working with such amazing and talented Freshies!!! I love you all sooo much!!! ♥ ♥ Now... the waiting game begins!"
-Wow. Drugs.



To sum this up; I'm a hater. And haters gonna hate, ya know? It doesn't mean I don't still want to be friends with you (Carrie). I hope you enjoyed my venting and if you were in any way offended, just know that I was kicked out of a pool hall/bar tonight so I'm just in the hatin' kind of mood. 

Peace out Classics.


-Mada

Nick - THE WORST THINGS

 

  Wasps

Wasps are the worst things. Bees are desperate creatures, and, if need calls, they will valiantly die to protect their hives.

And then there are wasps. Wasps don't die when they sting you. They sting you whenever the fuck they want, because they can. Also, bees pollinate all of our stuff. What do wasps pollinate? Nothing! Actually, probably something. I don't know. Who cares? Wasps are the worst.

Also wasps make those weird little grey tunnelly nests. Those things are unsettling, and they hang around your garage. You never notice them until you are too late.

The Color Beige

The Color Beige is the worst thing. First of all, when I google "The Color Beige," I get like 20 different colors. I don't think I can describe how stupid it is that this is a color when we don't even know what color it is.

One time I was driving my friend home and I asked him which house was his. He responded, "The beige one."

I threw him out of my car right there.

Happiness

Look at these people. These people look so happy. I hope they are all eaten by wasps.

Happiness is the worst thing. Let's run through an all-too-common scenario. I wake up, and turn my alarm clock off with all my fury. I drag myself to my dresser, miserably force myself to get dressed, and painstakingly maintain some baseline degree of hygiene. Then I finally trek wearily down to breakfast, only to be met by my two friends who are cheerily eating breakfast. Also, they are dating. So they are happy, wide awake, and they love each other. And now I'm sitting with them.

If there is anything worse than that, I have yet to encounter it. Happiness is the worst.

The Universe

The Universe is the worst thing. Yep. You all knew I was getting there.

Someday I could go on to eliminate every wasp and every beige-colored thing, and then The Universe would be all like, "Fuck you! You're insignificant!"

Basically what I'm saying is that The Universe invalidates everything I do. Put in a good effort to eat a healthy breakfast this morning? That's too bad, because you're a small collection of atoms that will never leave a rock on a distant arm of a small spiral galaxy.

And you can make the world a better place all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that it will be destroyed in a few billion years. 

Endings

I'm not writing one