I shake some of the raindrops off my umbrella and shut it. I grab the door and enter Shepherd's Pub, looking to the back corner of the front room to the table where we usually sit — he's not there. Things are different, alright.
I walk to the back room and see him sitting beside the billiards tables, staring intently at his mug, ignoring the three televisions in the room that are talking about him again. Mercifully, the volume's off.
"Hey Jerry," I utter as normally as I can, knowing well not to ask how it's going, or what he's thinking about.
"Hey, Al. Good seein' you. Yours is still cold," as he motions to the second drink on the table.
Though it's in a different room, our table is dressed the same, with Jerry's gold Miller Lite staring across at a tan-topped brown Guiness that I corral as I slink into my seat, setting my umbrella beside me in the booth.
I take off my coat. For an instant, silence freezes the room, and I begin to let out a discomforted exhale as Jerry speaks.
"I can't believe this is happening." My eyes fall shut for a moment. I was hoping he'd wait to bring it up. You know, a little small talk first. So I could at least get some beer in me. "Joe's gonna lose his job. The whole program's on fire."
His tone is tired, but not remorseful. He seems exhausted, not guilty.
"Yeah well, the whole thing's a shit storm. I don't know what to tell ya. You're the one who supplied the gas." As I grab my cold mug for comfort and send it toward my mouth to take a drink, he looks up at the television for the first time. He knows he's screwed up, and it shows. But his look is still mere regret, not guilt.
"It's not right that the program has to go through this. Even with the charges. It's not a football thing."
The dark ale slides down my throat and I'm able to look him in the eye. It is and it isn't a "football thing," but I explain to him that it doesn't matter.
"You're a coach, of course they're gonna run with it. You can't expect 'em to ease up just because none of the victims (this word evokes a sharp blink) played on the team. You fucked up real bad, Jere, if it's true, that is."
"... Do you think I did it, Al?"
My stomach flips inside out. Of course he did it. He had to've.
"It's hard to say no, with what I've seen in the paper. But since I'm right here, I'll ask ya straight up, did you do it?"
He goes for his beer, calm but compressed. I take a sip too, relieved I'm no longer the one talking.
"What I did with those kids wasn't right. But it wasn't illegal. Those things they said I did — it's not true. I didn't go that far."
The answer he had to give. It wasn't natural for Jerry to politic, as he normally worked best outside the limelight. But here he was, telling me his bowl of shit was sanitary. I don't believe him, but I let him think I do. After all, I wish it were that way.
"So, you got a good lawyer, you gonna fight this thing off?"
He does, and he tells me he will.
"Good, so I wouldn't wanna see you wind up in jail. Especially with the shit they got you charged with."
With that, Jerry freezes. He sighs, staring at the brim of his cup with longing, as if he wanted to jump into it. I have to pull him back.
"So if Joe can't be out there this weekend, it's gonna be tough for 'em to get the win."
"Yeah, but if Stupar and that Hodges kid can keep Martinez contained, and get some push against Burkhead, Nebraska's got nothin' for us."
"Welcome to the Big Ten, mother fuckers."
"Still Penn State, still Linebacker U." He laughs. A forced laugh, but one he relishes. We talk about the game itself for a while, but, the scandal's effects on the program are too big to avoid for too long.
"Who would replace Joe now if he does get let go?" he asks me.
I'm hearing Tom Bradley, though Larry Johnson's also been mentioned. We talk about it a little, but none of it really matters. All that matters is that we're talking. It feels like old times, out front by the bar. But now with everything out in public, he's hiding back here in privacy. And all along he was the same guy. Jerry taught me a lot of things, nearly all of which won't be invalidated by his trial. But I can't shake the shame of talking with someone accused of such evil. It doesn't sit right with my conscience, but I'm all he has left at this point, so I finish a couple more rounds to settle it down.
"So the Second Mile, are they gonna have to shut that down too?"
He sets down his drink and sighs. Probably, he says. I can't help myself — I feel comfortable. I don't feel like I'm drinking with a felon, let alone a serial child molester. I look him in the eye, and it feels okay, I don't feel like he's the devil as the media is uncovering him to be. He changes the subject, asks how are my wife and kids, and as the word rolls off his lips, I feel like I would trust them with him — he's just Jerry.
"They're good, Jerry. Kellen is just in high school, he's playing safety at SCA, on the JV team of course. Candice is still in middle school, but she's doing real well. How's Dorothy? Is she behind you on this?"
"Yeah, she believes I didn't do anything illegal. I'm worried though. She knows I need her right now, who knows what she'll do when this is all over."
"Yeah, she doesn't seem like the kind to walk out, though."
"Hope you're right about that." He finishes the final third of yet another round. "But the boys — Jon hasn't been talking to me. E.J., I don't think believes me, he thinks I fucked those kids."
Despite my efforts, I cringe slightly. I look up to the television to avert my eyes to see Joe rambling incoherently to a group of students outside his house. "Don't say that — that way. It creeps me out just hearing it, Jerry."
"Well I've heard it enough over the past few days to jump off a bridge." He retorts, and for a moment he looks guilty, and then "— I'm fine though, Al, I wouldn't do anything criminal. Like I said, I didn't do ... those things."
I believe him, outwardly. In my mind, my doubts are mounting. "Right. Sure hope you can prove it, pal."
"I did so much for them. The charity, the coaching, the whole thing. Look at my home. I worked so damn hard to make the kids happy — my whole life, it's what I wanted to do. And I was lucky I guess to do it for so long. But for this to come of it. I know I made some stupid decisions that I now regret, but it's not like I'm a monster. I loved those kids. I wouldn't, you know ..."
"— I know, Jerry. I know." We finish one final round in silence. "... Well I've gotta get going, Jere."
I offer and sign off on the tab (he did just shell out 100 grand for bail). As we walk outside, Jerry's paces are slow and unsturdy. His eyes are on the floor, and not sifting through the patrons of the front room like they would normally be. He's wearing a forlorn and glumly scowl as opposed to the traditional jolly smile glazed onto his face. He doesn't want to go home — or anywhere. My family is visiting relatives in Georgia in two weeks for Thanksgiving. Jerry's future plans are much more complicated and cloudy.
As we step outside onto Hebert Street, Jerry has to walk the other way to go to his car. I give him a hug and wish him well. As I turn away from Jerry, I realize that I may have just seen him in public for the last time, but I guess that's yet to be determined. I begin to walk the half-block to my car, and realize I forgot my umbrella back at our booth. After a moment's contemplation, I decide to leave it. It's not too cold out, and if there's anything I learned tonight, it's that there are worse things than a few raindrops on an insulated wool coat.
--Eliot Sill
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Memories
Robert: There was this one time, at improv practice, when you proved yourself to be one of the funniest people I know. I think it was four square but I have a pretty bad memory so who knows. But you were playing a concession stand worker at a movie theater and for some reason, your ability to sensual pump liquid butter onto popcorn was just too much for me or any of us in the room to handle.
Nick: I think my favorite Nick Dietrich moment of all time was the one time you showed that you could stay true to your beliefs in any situation. I am referring to, of course, the time you let Hannah fall backwards onto a hard wood floor. When someone trust falls toward you, you don't just catch them regardless, you catch them if you have mutual trust with the person. At least that's the idea. However, most people would have caught this girl they barely knew anyway, but not you. You dropped that presumptuous slut.
Eliot: Junior prom. As Jake Davidson described it, we spent the entire time at Kurt's "frolicking around together". I recall shots in the exercise room chasing with Hi-C, drunk treadmills, drunk tumbling, miniature basketball, and weird myspace, girly pictures on the couch that were out of character for both of us. To this day that is one of the most fun times I have ever had drinking. Thanks for being ridiculous with me.
Brendan: This summer I was going through kind of a weird time and felt estranged from a lot of my friends. I remember I went to a party at Eliot's and felt like an outcast for the majority of the time but what made me feel the best was talking with you. You approached me energetically and we promptly jumped into a discussion about books, most notably our struggle to finish On The Road. It was a fun, interesting, and intellectual conversation, which is hard to achieve and it made my night tenfold better.
Conor: Can I say all of senior year? Is that cheating? The least I can do is give specific examples I guess. I will never understand why Mrs. Goldberg loved you, but if she hadn't we would have never gotten away with making that weird affafffaffaffaffafffa sound every class period for at least 10 minutes for about a week. Oh and remember that one time when I took the Pledge sheet away from you and the whole school found out you don't really have it memorized?
Brian: Ok so this is a weird one. But last year I was playing soccer at the FAR fields and it was freezing outside, and the worst part about it was that my lips were super chapped the entire time. It was seriously so painful. On a whim, I decided to call Brian while walking back and asked him if he had any carmex. He did in fact have carmex and also mentioned he hadn't had dinner. I came over to PAR, soothed my chappedness, and ate stir fry with Brian AKA the best food you could hope ti eat if you live in public dorms. A great afternoon.
Nick: I think my favorite Nick Dietrich moment of all time was the one time you showed that you could stay true to your beliefs in any situation. I am referring to, of course, the time you let Hannah fall backwards onto a hard wood floor. When someone trust falls toward you, you don't just catch them regardless, you catch them if you have mutual trust with the person. At least that's the idea. However, most people would have caught this girl they barely knew anyway, but not you. You dropped that presumptuous slut.
Eliot: Junior prom. As Jake Davidson described it, we spent the entire time at Kurt's "frolicking around together". I recall shots in the exercise room chasing with Hi-C, drunk treadmills, drunk tumbling, miniature basketball, and weird myspace, girly pictures on the couch that were out of character for both of us. To this day that is one of the most fun times I have ever had drinking. Thanks for being ridiculous with me.
Brendan: This summer I was going through kind of a weird time and felt estranged from a lot of my friends. I remember I went to a party at Eliot's and felt like an outcast for the majority of the time but what made me feel the best was talking with you. You approached me energetically and we promptly jumped into a discussion about books, most notably our struggle to finish On The Road. It was a fun, interesting, and intellectual conversation, which is hard to achieve and it made my night tenfold better.
Conor: Can I say all of senior year? Is that cheating? The least I can do is give specific examples I guess. I will never understand why Mrs. Goldberg loved you, but if she hadn't we would have never gotten away with making that weird affafffaffaffaffafffa sound every class period for at least 10 minutes for about a week. Oh and remember that one time when I took the Pledge sheet away from you and the whole school found out you don't really have it memorized?
Brian: Ok so this is a weird one. But last year I was playing soccer at the FAR fields and it was freezing outside, and the worst part about it was that my lips were super chapped the entire time. It was seriously so painful. On a whim, I decided to call Brian while walking back and asked him if he had any carmex. He did in fact have carmex and also mentioned he hadn't had dinner. I came over to PAR, soothed my chappedness, and ate stir fry with Brian AKA the best food you could hope ti eat if you live in public dorms. A great afternoon.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Nick - Cop Show
I gazed down the hall squinting my eyes, but I wasn't really sure what I was looking at.
Being the only murder detective in this town, I very rarely had to do my actual job. Most days were just paperwork. For the most part, it was better than working in the city. When I was offered a job covering murders here, I took it without question. More benefits, better pay, less work.
The blood stain on the wall is big. I can tell that much. I cast about in my head for other things I can learn from the pattern, the height, the size of it, but I keep coming up with nothing.
I've never regretted taking this job. I've never regretted it for a second, but I often wonder about what would have happened if I didn't. I would probably be fine if I were still working in the city. I didn't really need the raise in pay. And god knows this town would be fine without me. Maybe they would have a competent murder detective.
I look down at the body. An older man. He's lying on his stomach. The bullet wound is pretty obvious. I can probably identify this guy. You know, assuming it's his house. I'll look up the title to the house later. Yeah, identifying the victim would be good.
I mean, it's not like I was never trained. I know what I'm doing for the most part on the procedural half. I usually get the paperwork right without any prompting from my supervisors. It's just that I wasn't really made for this job. I don't have any love for it. I don't hate it. I actually enjoy it sometimes. But days like today make me realize I stumbled into it, rather than coming to it with any sort of purpose.
There are two officers waiting in the other room for me to finish up. They probably think what I'm doing is some kind of wizardry. Or they probably don't realize, anyway, that I'm just as clueless as they are. I snap some photographs of the scene.
There are kids who want to grow up to be murder detectives. I mean, they make TV shows about this stuff, for christ sake.
But I never cared much for cop shows.
Being the only murder detective in this town, I very rarely had to do my actual job. Most days were just paperwork. For the most part, it was better than working in the city. When I was offered a job covering murders here, I took it without question. More benefits, better pay, less work.
The blood stain on the wall is big. I can tell that much. I cast about in my head for other things I can learn from the pattern, the height, the size of it, but I keep coming up with nothing.
I've never regretted taking this job. I've never regretted it for a second, but I often wonder about what would have happened if I didn't. I would probably be fine if I were still working in the city. I didn't really need the raise in pay. And god knows this town would be fine without me. Maybe they would have a competent murder detective.
I look down at the body. An older man. He's lying on his stomach. The bullet wound is pretty obvious. I can probably identify this guy. You know, assuming it's his house. I'll look up the title to the house later. Yeah, identifying the victim would be good.
I mean, it's not like I was never trained. I know what I'm doing for the most part on the procedural half. I usually get the paperwork right without any prompting from my supervisors. It's just that I wasn't really made for this job. I don't have any love for it. I don't hate it. I actually enjoy it sometimes. But days like today make me realize I stumbled into it, rather than coming to it with any sort of purpose.
There are two officers waiting in the other room for me to finish up. They probably think what I'm doing is some kind of wizardry. Or they probably don't realize, anyway, that I'm just as clueless as they are. I snap some photographs of the scene.
There are kids who want to grow up to be murder detectives. I mean, they make TV shows about this stuff, for christ sake.
But I never cared much for cop shows.
Robert - That's Deep
We're so conditioned to the phrase "That's deep" that it almost serves as an automatic response to any insightful or slightly poetic comment that could be given. Myself, I don't even like to think about thoughts, so if I hear so much as one three-syllable word form on your lips, I begin forming "That's deep" on mine right away. Now that I've saved you the trouble of stimulating a conversation, we can return to talking about drinking, video games, rock music, or other friends who aren't in the room.
And now I hear you using other complicated words, you pretentious cock. You think that girl over there, that cute one, is svelte? You call her a sylph? Fuck you. Don't you ever make my language pretty. We have words for girls like that: cute, hot, sexy. Those are them; use them.
I noticed you talking about the environment again. That isn't rock music and it doesn't affect the amount of drunk I am. You say that in 2018, solar power could be more economically efficient than coal and gas? Sounds like hipster bullshit to me. Take your highbrow smart car and your ugly Toms back to Greenwich Village or wherever it is that you weirdos come from.
...In our culture we really like to intellectually suppress each other. Maybe it's because of a natural competitiveness, in that we all wish to believe we're on a tier above everyone else. Or hey, maybe it's because we're actually on some apathetic tier below everyone else and don't care enough to approach interesting issues. But either way, I think "That's deep" usually amounts to one of the most condescending phrases you can offer another human being.
And now I hear you using other complicated words, you pretentious cock. You think that girl over there, that cute one, is svelte? You call her a sylph? Fuck you. Don't you ever make my language pretty. We have words for girls like that: cute, hot, sexy. Those are them; use them.
I noticed you talking about the environment again. That isn't rock music and it doesn't affect the amount of drunk I am. You say that in 2018, solar power could be more economically efficient than coal and gas? Sounds like hipster bullshit to me. Take your highbrow smart car and your ugly Toms back to Greenwich Village or wherever it is that you weirdos come from.
...In our culture we really like to intellectually suppress each other. Maybe it's because of a natural competitiveness, in that we all wish to believe we're on a tier above everyone else. Or hey, maybe it's because we're actually on some apathetic tier below everyone else and don't care enough to approach interesting issues. But either way, I think "That's deep" usually amounts to one of the most condescending phrases you can offer another human being.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Conor - Reprise
Eliot just lost against Vargas for the second time. Vargas isn't a very hard boss, Eliot just plays with a little too much style. He has a natural inclination towards flair, an irrepressible urge to give the audience a show. So instead of just hitting "attack" over and over again until Vargas the improbably big and improbably evil martial arts master falls to his assault, Eliot takes his time. Eliot inputs random button commands, hoping that something cool will happen, and the game's like "what are you doing, no," and big ol' Vargas laughs and punches him in the face again. Twice now Eliot's thrown the match in an attempt to pull off a big stunt. As big of a stunt as you can pull in Final Fantasy VI, anyway. The kid needs to play within himself.
That's cool, though, that's fine, I have a Classic Brian to write and nothing better to watch. Actually that's not true at all. Watching cooler better things is the how I've kept myself busy over the break. 7 episodes of the Wire over 2 days and 5 episodes of Breaking Bad today alone. Boom. Thanksgiving Break, 2011, motherfuckers. Y'all know how I do.
Thanksgiving Break is an awkward break. Thanks to OU oppressing us with Monday and Tuesday classes I'm given 4 days to enjoy Springfield, Illinois. As Eliot pointed out, those 4 days can be spent either relaxing and enjoying myself with the few close friends who I naturally gravitate to in my spare time, or I can spend them running across town and seeing every single one of the people who I've missed and need to catch up with. I miss these people and I'd love to see them, but a long, stressful semester has tired me out, there's mashed potatoes in the fridge and freshish rolls on the stove, Winter Break is right around the corner, and Nick's house is right across the street. Looks like I'm playing Mario Party and watching the Wire tonight.
As brief as it is, Thanksgiving Break came at the perfect time this year. I may have bitten off more than I can chew this semester, and a lot of stressors were accumulating at worrying rates. Thanksgiving rolls around like a beautiful, beautiful Band-Aid, solving nothing, but at least giving me a slight respite from all of that. I don't deal with my problems, I drive 10 hours away from them for a week or so. Like I said, y'all know how I doooo.
Here in Springfield, we never have plans for the here and now, we always have plans for the future. Like I know what TV shows I'm going to ruin over Winter Break, and what video games I'm going to marathon, and what gigs Band Practice will hopefully be playing, and such, but tonight? Yeah, I'm cool with Steak n' Shake if you guys are. I don't mind this. I don't have to be doing something special to enjoy myself, it's just nice seeing everyone, but we have significant problems coming up with plans that aren't Steak n' Shake.
Once again, not like that's a bad thing. Anyone in Norman who's witnessing my current Cane's spiral of self-destruction should know that I would never grace that lowly chicken tender vendor (heyooo) with my presence if there was a Steak n' Shake in town. This shit is for real. There's nothing quite like a Western BBQ Bacon burger, hold the cheese because cheese is gross and also icky. Food was a big priority for me this break. I did not fail in my goals to eat all of the foods. Apologies to anyone who wanted any of the foods.
If anyone wanted to practice their intervention skills, I could really use a lot less Monster energy drink in my life. The balls in your court now, everybody else in my life. This is now your responsibility, and more importantly, your fault. Stop allowing me to drink this delicious garbage really really often.
Sunday I drive back to Norman for 2 or 3 weeks of hard work, and then I will return here. I will probably sit in this chair, and play this video game with these people. I'm looking forward to it, it'll be a welcome rest, as apposed to the nap that is Thanksgiving Break. Like naps, it was very pleasant and I needed it, but it lulled me into a false sense of security. There's still work to be done. That's fine though. Y'all know how I do.
That's cool, though, that's fine, I have a Classic Brian to write and nothing better to watch. Actually that's not true at all. Watching cooler better things is the how I've kept myself busy over the break. 7 episodes of the Wire over 2 days and 5 episodes of Breaking Bad today alone. Boom. Thanksgiving Break, 2011, motherfuckers. Y'all know how I do.
Thanksgiving Break is an awkward break. Thanks to OU oppressing us with Monday and Tuesday classes I'm given 4 days to enjoy Springfield, Illinois. As Eliot pointed out, those 4 days can be spent either relaxing and enjoying myself with the few close friends who I naturally gravitate to in my spare time, or I can spend them running across town and seeing every single one of the people who I've missed and need to catch up with. I miss these people and I'd love to see them, but a long, stressful semester has tired me out, there's mashed potatoes in the fridge and freshish rolls on the stove, Winter Break is right around the corner, and Nick's house is right across the street. Looks like I'm playing Mario Party and watching the Wire tonight.
As brief as it is, Thanksgiving Break came at the perfect time this year. I may have bitten off more than I can chew this semester, and a lot of stressors were accumulating at worrying rates. Thanksgiving rolls around like a beautiful, beautiful Band-Aid, solving nothing, but at least giving me a slight respite from all of that. I don't deal with my problems, I drive 10 hours away from them for a week or so. Like I said, y'all know how I doooo.
Here in Springfield, we never have plans for the here and now, we always have plans for the future. Like I know what TV shows I'm going to ruin over Winter Break, and what video games I'm going to marathon, and what gigs Band Practice will hopefully be playing, and such, but tonight? Yeah, I'm cool with Steak n' Shake if you guys are. I don't mind this. I don't have to be doing something special to enjoy myself, it's just nice seeing everyone, but we have significant problems coming up with plans that aren't Steak n' Shake.
Once again, not like that's a bad thing. Anyone in Norman who's witnessing my current Cane's spiral of self-destruction should know that I would never grace that lowly chicken tender vendor (heyooo) with my presence if there was a Steak n' Shake in town. This shit is for real. There's nothing quite like a Western BBQ Bacon burger, hold the cheese because cheese is gross and also icky. Food was a big priority for me this break. I did not fail in my goals to eat all of the foods. Apologies to anyone who wanted any of the foods.
If anyone wanted to practice their intervention skills, I could really use a lot less Monster energy drink in my life. The balls in your court now, everybody else in my life. This is now your responsibility, and more importantly, your fault. Stop allowing me to drink this delicious garbage really really often.
Sunday I drive back to Norman for 2 or 3 weeks of hard work, and then I will return here. I will probably sit in this chair, and play this video game with these people. I'm looking forward to it, it'll be a welcome rest, as apposed to the nap that is Thanksgiving Break. Like naps, it was very pleasant and I needed it, but it lulled me into a false sense of security. There's still work to be done. That's fine though. Y'all know how I do.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Why it's important to read this blog
Here are reasons:
1. It's a good source of reading materials.
2. It's fun for us to think that people are reading this blog.
3. It's a totally competent and unrivaled source of news about our lives.
4. We are: Robert, Nick, Mada, Eliot, Brendan, Conor and Brian. Those are good names.
5. "Classic" is something you associate with good things, much like a great basketball game, original flavored things that are better than flavored versions of that same thing, or an action that a friend does that fits to a comfortable and sometimes humorous degree with their past actions and current ideologies. Also something of pop-culture that is out-of-date but is still good enough to go back to and experience, because it has not lost its enjoyment with the passage of time.
6. "Brian" is a name of fair simplicity and commonality. It might be your name! It represents the common man with boring accuracy, and is something we can all relate to. We can all imagine what life would be like if we were a person named "Brian." We do this with more ease than we would imagine what life would be like if we were named "Bludneious" or something of a similar nature.
7. The person who this blog was named after is endearing, despite his biting sarcasm and witty insults. You may see yourself dating or being friends with this person. He is also in shape.
8. To not read this blog is to cast it out as unoriginal and uninteresting. In doing this, you imply that the seven writers of Classic Brian are unoriginal, in itself an abhorring accusation, and uninteresting, which is not true in the general public's opinion.
9. We have or have had jobs. Really!
10. The writers of Classic Brian have experienced a wide array of experiences, such as: growing up in a moderately sized city in a state that possesses both bigger and smaller cities, playing sports as children, thinking about their own mortality, making up a fun game.
11. A young person's perspective is easier to get behind than an old person's. We all consider ourselves young people. You can get behind us.
12. Writer's block is bound to happen to the writers of Classic Brian. It's interesting to see what we produce on those days.
13. Sometimes, videos and/or pictures are included in posts.
14. Not all people close in age to the writers of Classic Brian write for blogs. Of the ones that do, ours is the one you should be reading.
15, We won't be mad at you if you read the blog.
16. We are constantly trying to think of interesting points to make.
17.
We are not radicals. We are not entirely innocent. We are not entirely corrupt. We are the fading hope that in the zenith of our lives we can figure out something substantial, deconstruct and understand it, and possess in ourselves the knowledge of how to live life without the cost of having lived it. We are the attempt for perfection.
18. Generally speaking, we all have a relative appreciation of the arts.
19. We're all currently enrolled in major universities.
20. Sometimes, we have guest-writers post on the blog, which provides an interesting alternative perspective on a particular issue or subject.
21. Reading this blog is not "counterproductive," it is better described as "hip."
22. Like all things you experience that will die before you do, you will miss us when we're gone.
23. We will miss us when we're gone, too -- that is to say, we have compassion for ourselves.
24. Each post individually is not a narrative, but every post, over the course of a period of time, is a narrative.
25. With the growing popularity of the internet, we are a good way to spend time.
26. You will be dying and think, probably, "I wonder what was in the rest of those Classic Brian posts" and realize: you'll never fucking know.
27. How long does it take to read a blog post? How much does it cost to do so? Compare these results with that of getting pulled over for speeding.
28. What if one of us writes a post about something you're interested in. Wouldn't that be a fun read?
29. We're not perfect, as writers. We could get better. You could help.
30. We'll read all your comments and take them too seriously.
31. If once a day you have someone do a favor for you, you will likely have time to read the day's post as they are doing that favor for you.
32. There's the slight, slight chance that one of us becomes well-known, and in this scenario you could say "I read that guy's (or Mada's) early stuff when he (or Mada) was just starting a blog with his (or Mada's) friends." People will hopefully be impressed.
33. Whenever the weather's bad, and you're inside because whatever you would be doing outside is an inconvenience because of the weather being bad, you will feel better if you spend that time reading a Classic Brian post you would otherwise not have read.
34. We will not be outdated. If a revolution occurs, we will not write from a pre-revolution perspective.
35. If a writer on Classic Brian quits or dies, the best item on your resume for being that lucky replacement writer would be to say "I have read all your guys's posts."
36. Eventually, this could turn into a website that competes with other websites. In such a case, we'd want you on OUR side.
37. If you are doing something on the computer, and partake in a distraction that won't leave you feeling like you've completely wasted your time, we're your man.
38. There are things along the side of the blog, such as the "Who we are:" section and the "A list: of" section that are enjoyable and made up by members of Classic Brian.
39. We could really use your support.
40. Classic Brian is a diary. And diaries should be read. You don't even have to tell us you read it.
Good job, you read all those! Here's a treat: two pictures of bears. They have similarities and differences.
An aside: it's Thanksgiving break and I don't have a working cell phone until Sunday when I get back to college. I'm okay with this. People who won't see me because of this slight inconvenience, consider our friendships Darwinized. I'm excited to see my brothers and parents. I'm hopeful to get rest and be ready for these last two weeks of the semester.
It's unfortunate that it's about to get so darn wintery. It's as if it were slightly chilly outside and yet you, hot from overexerting yourself in an activity, decide to jump into an unheated pool. Hold your breath, because when you hit the water, it's going to be cold and it's going to stay cold for a long while.
I wish I had written more in my last post, "S[t]imulation." There were things I left out. To think, not only will I not finish everything I want to, I won't even finish thinking of everything I want to finish! What a problem we have today.
--Eliot Sill
1. It's a good source of reading materials.
2. It's fun for us to think that people are reading this blog.
3. It's a totally competent and unrivaled source of news about our lives.
4. We are: Robert, Nick, Mada, Eliot, Brendan, Conor and Brian. Those are good names.
5. "Classic" is something you associate with good things, much like a great basketball game, original flavored things that are better than flavored versions of that same thing, or an action that a friend does that fits to a comfortable and sometimes humorous degree with their past actions and current ideologies. Also something of pop-culture that is out-of-date but is still good enough to go back to and experience, because it has not lost its enjoyment with the passage of time.
6. "Brian" is a name of fair simplicity and commonality. It might be your name! It represents the common man with boring accuracy, and is something we can all relate to. We can all imagine what life would be like if we were a person named "Brian." We do this with more ease than we would imagine what life would be like if we were named "Bludneious" or something of a similar nature.
7. The person who this blog was named after is endearing, despite his biting sarcasm and witty insults. You may see yourself dating or being friends with this person. He is also in shape.
8. To not read this blog is to cast it out as unoriginal and uninteresting. In doing this, you imply that the seven writers of Classic Brian are unoriginal, in itself an abhorring accusation, and uninteresting, which is not true in the general public's opinion.
9. We have or have had jobs. Really!
10. The writers of Classic Brian have experienced a wide array of experiences, such as: growing up in a moderately sized city in a state that possesses both bigger and smaller cities, playing sports as children, thinking about their own mortality, making up a fun game.
11. A young person's perspective is easier to get behind than an old person's. We all consider ourselves young people. You can get behind us.
12. Writer's block is bound to happen to the writers of Classic Brian. It's interesting to see what we produce on those days.
13. Sometimes, videos and/or pictures are included in posts.
14. Not all people close in age to the writers of Classic Brian write for blogs. Of the ones that do, ours is the one you should be reading.
15, We won't be mad at you if you read the blog.
16. We are constantly trying to think of interesting points to make.
17.
We are not radicals. We are not entirely innocent. We are not entirely corrupt. We are the fading hope that in the zenith of our lives we can figure out something substantial, deconstruct and understand it, and possess in ourselves the knowledge of how to live life without the cost of having lived it. We are the attempt for perfection.
18. Generally speaking, we all have a relative appreciation of the arts.
19. We're all currently enrolled in major universities.
20. Sometimes, we have guest-writers post on the blog, which provides an interesting alternative perspective on a particular issue or subject.
21. Reading this blog is not "counterproductive," it is better described as "hip."
22. Like all things you experience that will die before you do, you will miss us when we're gone.
23. We will miss us when we're gone, too -- that is to say, we have compassion for ourselves.
24. Each post individually is not a narrative, but every post, over the course of a period of time, is a narrative.
25. With the growing popularity of the internet, we are a good way to spend time.
26. You will be dying and think, probably, "I wonder what was in the rest of those Classic Brian posts" and realize: you'll never fucking know.
27. How long does it take to read a blog post? How much does it cost to do so? Compare these results with that of getting pulled over for speeding.
28. What if one of us writes a post about something you're interested in. Wouldn't that be a fun read?
29. We're not perfect, as writers. We could get better. You could help.
30. We'll read all your comments and take them too seriously.
31. If once a day you have someone do a favor for you, you will likely have time to read the day's post as they are doing that favor for you.
32. There's the slight, slight chance that one of us becomes well-known, and in this scenario you could say "I read that guy's (or Mada's) early stuff when he (or Mada) was just starting a blog with his (or Mada's) friends." People will hopefully be impressed.
33. Whenever the weather's bad, and you're inside because whatever you would be doing outside is an inconvenience because of the weather being bad, you will feel better if you spend that time reading a Classic Brian post you would otherwise not have read.
34. We will not be outdated. If a revolution occurs, we will not write from a pre-revolution perspective.
35. If a writer on Classic Brian quits or dies, the best item on your resume for being that lucky replacement writer would be to say "I have read all your guys's posts."
36. Eventually, this could turn into a website that competes with other websites. In such a case, we'd want you on OUR side.
37. If you are doing something on the computer, and partake in a distraction that won't leave you feeling like you've completely wasted your time, we're your man.
38. There are things along the side of the blog, such as the "Who we are:" section and the "A list: of" section that are enjoyable and made up by members of Classic Brian.
39. We could really use your support.
40. Classic Brian is a diary. And diaries should be read. You don't even have to tell us you read it.
Good job, you read all those! Here's a treat: two pictures of bears. They have similarities and differences.
An aside: it's Thanksgiving break and I don't have a working cell phone until Sunday when I get back to college. I'm okay with this. People who won't see me because of this slight inconvenience, consider our friendships Darwinized. I'm excited to see my brothers and parents. I'm hopeful to get rest and be ready for these last two weeks of the semester.
It's unfortunate that it's about to get so darn wintery. It's as if it were slightly chilly outside and yet you, hot from overexerting yourself in an activity, decide to jump into an unheated pool. Hold your breath, because when you hit the water, it's going to be cold and it's going to stay cold for a long while.
I wish I had written more in my last post, "S[t]imulation." There were things I left out. To think, not only will I not finish everything I want to, I won't even finish thinking of everything I want to finish! What a problem we have today.
--Eliot Sill
Monday, November 21, 2011
Nick - Three Reasons I Hate Shopping For Underwear
The first reason is that my waist is not particularly large, any you people are fatasses. The underwear you sell is sized accordingly.
The second reason is that you can't try on underwear. I mean, you could try them on, probably. But then you run the risk of being asked by the employees if you opened a package of underwear, tried them on, and then stuck them back in the package. And nobody wants to find themselves there.
The last reason is that everywhere, every time I look at a package of underwear, this fucker is staring back at me.
Listen, dude, all I want to know is what the underwear looks like. All I'm getting from this picture is what your dick looks like through this underwear. And that's if I train myself to not look at the edgy look on your face and your angsty-ass hairdo.
The second reason is that you can't try on underwear. I mean, you could try them on, probably. But then you run the risk of being asked by the employees if you opened a package of underwear, tried them on, and then stuck them back in the package. And nobody wants to find themselves there.
The last reason is that everywhere, every time I look at a package of underwear, this fucker is staring back at me.
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