A Bowl of Stupid

Hey folks!

It's okay to come on back now everyone, I'm fairly calm now. But Jesus H. Christ on a pogo-fucking-stick, if I haven't had a nerve-wracking past few days.

First off, as noted in my last post, no one should EVER use AmTrust Bank for ANYTHING. EVER!! (unless you don't WANT to ever see your money again, of course). Fuck, I know there's a recession going on back in the States, but that doesn't mean the bank can simply STEAL my goddamn money!!

Regardless, that's what having an extra stash in your bank account is for, right?

Umm … yeah, not so much.

That's not to say that, besides also having the typical low-level 'scamming' thing going on, the local guys over at the Family Losman next door were also great hosts (although their facilities aren't as extensive as Andy's), so don't believe anything bad you may hear about them either. They're a bit cheaper, and they've just got a less extensive hotel/losman (i.e., Andy's got A/C rooms, a TV room, etc.). It just depends on what you want to do and pay.

So I'm here at Karang Nyimbor for another couple weeks — it's still not crowded in the surf, and my stress level has been reduced exponentially regarding money, so everything's cool.

Granted, it would be nice if the surf picks up a bit … but for now, I'm just thankful for what I've got.

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Yes, I'm finally in India - what a fascinating country shithole! And what better way to celebrate this auspicious occasion than for me to immediately book a flight to Krabi, Thailand.

Yes, India is just THAT good.

The presence here of what I had feared most — rabid European tourists and ego-driven nuevo-hippies everywhere — has indeed come to pass.

I originally planned on staying in India for 2 full months practicing my yoga and getting some further training should I ever wish to pursue it as a career in the future. However, I've since learned that most of the yoga ashrams and schools here — and especially those specializing in Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga, which is what I practice — are a complete farce.

On the one hand are the loads and loads of 'yoga centers' catering to all these Westerners who have been led to believe that the best practitioners MUST be in India since that's where modern yoga developed. That's complete bullshit. My brief experience has confirmed what others have told me — you can probably get just as good, if not better, training anywhere else in the world.

Then, on the other hand is the fact that yoga practitioners here, and especially in Mysore, which is known for being 'ground-zero' for ashtanga training, in fact produces bigger egos than true ashtaga yogis. Most of the guys here project a real ego-driven sense of "I'm more at peace than you are, and I can prove it!!" Fuck that, if I wanted to sit in a room full of bitches comparing how flexible and happy they are about living with no money, I could have gone to any ONE of the many fabulous nude bars in Miami and had a much (much) better time.

I know, I know … don't be hatin' on India. Yeah, I guess you're right … it's not ALL that bad.

I mean, the food here is probably some of the best in Asia — I actually enjoy eating vegetarian cuisine when it's prepared THIS good. Plus, all the wannabe hippies with their long flowing gowns and ponytails DO make for excellent dinner theatre. And as an added bonus, all the garbage burning throughout the day makes for an absolutely beautiful sunset.

Okay, granted, you really shouldn't go into the ocean unless you want to bring a pet parasite back home with you. But then again, the numerous packs of stray dogs and the occasional elephant you may encounter whilst trying to walk back to your room will more than make up for any 'wildlife' you may otherwise be missing underwater.

So, rather than stay here any longer than necessary, I'm going back to Thailand in a couple weeks to meet up with friends from Singapore before they all head back to states for good.

I've got a multiple entry 3 month visa, but I'm not really sure for how long — or even if — I'll head back to India. Moreso, given the continuing escalation of violence in Sri Lanka (one of the same private buses that I took to leave Kandy on 1 February was blown up by Tamil terrorists the VERY next day, killing 18 people and injuring 55), I fear it's not safe to travel there again until it all resolves itself. Instead, I will go back through and pick up my surfboards on my way to Thailand.

I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a hater, I'm just drawn that way.

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(Yours truly, with a portion of my new tattoo showing — it's a big triangular doohickey, with 10 smaller individual triangles, each representing the countries I've been to so far. Given the design, it leaves room for additional countries as I continue to travel. The necklace I'm wearing I got from a guy on Lombok who makes them out of clams — he puts a kernel of sand on the inside of the shell and comes back for it in a year or so, after which he cuts and polishes the shell containing the "half-pearl." I got it for about US$10.00.)

I’ll continue about my Indo trip in the next posts, but something that happened during my trip made me decide to write this entry – despite the possible repercussions.

As I mentioned elsewhere, after surfing and“camping” at Desert Point with a couple of Aussies for a number of days, I’ve taken up traveling with them for as long as we all see fit. However, it was only well after we made the decision to travel together that we (well, Mick more than I) realized that we had not even been introduced and did not even know each others’ names.

Given the circumstances, it seemed somewhat silly.

Such is also the case with this blog. While I’ve been writing, and a number of people have (presumably) been reading it for some time now, but for a select few fellow bloggers, I’ve never properly introduced myself. Early on in the blog, I even had people write and ask me if I was a man or women (aww yeah, I’m all man, baby!).

Initially, I chose to maintain my anonymity for fear of potential repercussions to my legal (or other potential) career.

After that ship sailed (and subsequently sank), I chose to maintain relative anonymity because it allows me to write with a certain forcefulness I may not have otherwise had the ability to use for fear of offending friends, family, stalkers, etc.

But given the direction taken by my life, and correspondingly, this blog, all of those reasons seem somewhat superfluous. Indeed, I’ve even started publishing pictures of myself in Singapore and elsewhere. So anonymity is probably not an issue anymore.

With that, allow me to introduce myself:

My name is Matthew Kish. I am a 37 year old male American citizen. I have brown hair, brown eyes, a terminally broken nose, and a terminally crooked smile. Overall, I am terminally “average.”

I like to beleive, however, that I am gifted with an above average intellect and insight into the human condition. As such, I made the decision to rebuke at least a portion of such normality (including my house, car and the majority of my earthly possessions), and I am currently living abroad in Southeast Asia and Oceania, with what I like to think of as a “home-base” in Singapore.

I was born and raised in Philadelphia by two loving parents who are still together after almost 45 years of marriage (personally, I think it’s only because my Dad’s hearing is gone … but I kid, I kid). I have one sister that used to be a broadcast journalist and now lives in Florida with her husband and their two little girls.

I left Philly in 1987 for Arizona, where I attended Arizona State for 4 years (or so) and graduated in 1991. After I graduated, I held several jobs in Arizona, Seattle, Portland, and Alaska – working on, among other things, various fishing and crabbing boats – before starting law school in San Diego in August 1993. I graduated law school in December 1995 (I did law school in 2.5 years, rather than the normal 3, as I thought it would help my prospects in the job market … yah, not so much).

I then worked at several small law firms in the San Diego area until moving to California’s Central Valley following the tailstrings of a then-serious girlfriend (cough, cough, bitch, cough). And while that move was a mistake on a variety on levels, it allowed me the opportunity to hone my legal skills at what I now know is a fairly decent law firm (it also allowed me to meet a variety of other people of whom I will always think fondly).

I eventually got tired of the very rural Central Valley and chose to move to South Florida, ostensibly to be closer to my sister and her then-new family (the main reason, however, was because I had lived in the other "3 corners" of the United States and I wanted to finish out the series). While there were issues with the ostensible purposes of that move as well, that also led me to meet friends in Miami for whom I also care deeply, and now consider family.

I lived in South Florida for 7 years practicing law and living an altogether over-indulgent lifestyle until last June, when I left my job and decided I did not want to practice law anymore and started, among other things, an over-indulgent personal blog — before I left the States to live abroad.

And I think that pretty much brings us up to speed. If you're interested in anything else, may I suggest you start at the beginning of this particular work of crap, and work your way back to this present post.

Sorry if I’ve bored you, but I just thought I should introduce myself before we move onward.

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(Mawi, Lombok, Indonesia — that's me on the far right)

Halo to all both of my loyal readers (yes, that includes you too, TK, ya' miserable fuckin' bastard).

I'm back in Singapore.

I've had a nice hot shower, I'm having my clothes properly cleaned and sandblasted, and I'm about to go out for a proper breakfast.

And but for the month-old beard, the 10 pounds I've lost, a possible broken rib, the last of the remaining reef scars on my feet, and the new tattoo on my chest (number 4 — sorry mom), I'm starting to feel like a real fucking person again.

I'll say this much … anyone who claims they can deal with any potential breakdown in modern infrastructure and live with no running water, no electricity, no phones, no lights, no internet, no etc. is either full of shit or just kidding themselves.

Yes, it obviously can be done. I did it for a couple weeks, at least.

But coming from where I do — the States — it's not something we're born and bred into. And it gets really old, really fast.

This coming from me, one of the biggest assholes who looks down very much on the overindulgence that typifies us Westerners and modern society.

As a result, despite my feelings in that regard, there is a certain perverse joy I have in returning to all the comforts of modern society.

God, I missed the internet. Good thing they have Clove Cigarettes and Coca-Cola over there — without them, I woulda gone nuts.

Anyhoo, I'm back in Sing. I'll have more pics and posts up in the next day or so. I plan on "time-releasing" them over the course of the weekend while I'm in Malaysia, and then more through next week before I head back up to Krabi, Thailand again next weekend.

Thanks all for checking in on me, thanks to everyone I traveled with in Indo the past month, thanks to the Indonesian government for letting me leave despite the ever-popular "international terrorist" look I'm now sporting, and thanks mostly to my friend Mike G., through whose help I was able to restore my at least some of my surfing "state-of-mind" and salvage the last several days of my trip by having a couple good days surfing during the last 2-3 meter high swell that hit while I was at Kuta Beach, Dreamland, and Bingin Reef on Bali.

Note: I had a couple "restorative" days surfing at Kuta and Dreamland (and Bingin, too, surprisingly). Kuta and Dreamland both have right-facing breaks, which — as a "regular footer" — I had a much easier time handling on the shortboard (I was also wearing my new reef booties, so my feet didn't hurt every time I went to stand up).

I'm well aware that I'm still a pretty shitty surfer. But it was one of the few times on the trip where I felt a little like myself again. For this reason, my next trip after Malaysia and Thailand will be to the Mentawais (off of the Sumatran mainland), where I plan on heading directly to "HT's" … better known as "Lances Right" — said to be the absolute best right-facing wave in the world. Even better, it's about a full days trip via plane, ferry, and dugout canoe and promises to be far less crowded than the rest of Indo. Let's hope I'm ready for it.

I guess I'll find out.

P.S. Here's a funny story that will echo the themes presented in later posts — the incredible crowding of Indo surf spots. Lances Right was discovered by this guy named, well … Lance. Apparently, he spent considerable time, money and effort traveling overland, via fishing boats and dugout canoes, into previously untapped and potentially hostile areas, in order to find this truly amazing break at HT's.

Well, Lance was there for a total of FOUR fuckin' days before some yacht full of rich asshole surfers searching for waves pulled up at the break and stole his thunder.

Yep, welcome to the wonderful world of Indo surf travel.

Oh how I hate those fuckers.

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Yeah, I saw some of the comments, and I finally received the voice mail messages from family and friends also inquiring as to whether I am, indeed, still alive.

Yes, as of today, Tuesday, 3 July 2007, I am still alive.

I have, however, had limited or no access to running water, electricity or hookers phones for about 2-3 weeks now.

I was in Banco Banco, Lombok, at a break called Desert Point (I was there, left for 10 days, and then went back for another week). The break is ranked the best in the world by several magazines and commentators.

It probably is. I, on the other hand, am not the best surfer in the world. By a FUCKING LONG SHOT.

I'll write more when I again get a better chance. I'll be back in Singapore on 12 July, so I can upload some of the stuff I've written or typed in the interim, as well as some pics and stuff.

For now, here's the encapsulated version:

I was at Desert Point in a village with none of the above mentioned stuff, then went to Gili Trawanga where I had mushrooms again for the first time in about 20 years, then I went to Sumbawa, and in particular, a town called Maluk (where the breaks Scar Reef, Supersuck and Yo-Yos are) - also lacking said "essentials."

I then returned to Desert Point on Lombok for a week, and now I'm back in (semi) civilization at Kuta Lombok before I return to Kuta Bali in a few days before I return to Sing on 12 July.

I just found out from my friend in Sing that he's going to Malaysia on 14 July, so I guess I'm heading there next. Which should be fun.

Again, I'll write a whole bunch more later. But for now, I'm actually starting to reconsider this whole "surf odyssey" thing simply due to the fact that, despite having surfed for over 15 years, I can't seem to find a groove for my surf since the first week I got here.

Essentially, I am a complete fucking kook.

As such, this following question/comment is left out there for my surfer friends who know that I've switched to a short board, I've come to a whole different type of wave, I can't deal with surfing through the huge fucking Indo crowds, and I haven't surfed significant waves in many years (since moving to Florida):

Should I just give up with these waves, switch back to a longboard, and go to Central America for a year or so (since my money won't last nearly as long there), where I can get nice easy waves with easy takeoffs and long relaxing rides?

I really do feel like a kook.

It's just got into my head a bit that I can't seem to surf very well right now.

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I got my new camera today.

I've never been all that into taking pictures and, as such, it's my very first digital camera.

However, I thought it necessary to finally get one to use for my travels to Singapore, Indo and all parts East.

I also figured this picture of my Jeep Wrangler is the most appropriate photo with which I should start my upcoming photo journal.

Why?

Miami to Phoenix. Two and one-half days. And hauling a 2500 pound trailer. Nuff said.

Man, ya' gotta love Jeeps.

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I count myself as always having been very fortunate, but never having been extremely lucky.

I've had a relatively gifted life, with good friends, a great family, and I've got my health.

But still, I've never had just absolutely great luck.

I've never won the lottery. I've never gained fame or fortune, nor have I ever stumbled upon a suitcase full of unmarked money (at least that's what I said during the sworn deposition … and I'm sticking by that story until I get to Indo).

That's why, when I hit an oil gusher this weekend, while still very lucky, it was not that huge of a godsend.

A valve blew up on my Jeep over the weekend, sending engine oil everywhere.

The good news, obviously, is that said oil-valve waited for 3 days until after I drove the Jeep cross-country before exploding oil everywhere, bless her stainless-steel heart.

The bad news, obviously, it that my kinfolk need not tell me that Californi-ae is the place I ought to be, with all the other rich oil barrons.

The Jeep is okay. And I got to spend the last 1.5 days rebuilding the Jeep's engine (I'll not bore you with details) with my college roomate. I actually enjoyed it tremendously.

Oh well, such is life.

Maybe I'll have better luck next time if I get a hunting dog.

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As was aptly noted by Vanessa Byers earlier this week (while I was off on a 3 day bender), the entire State of Florida has been on fire for about a week now.

Specifically, forestry officials state that 236 wildfires rage in 55 of the state's 67 counties.

Those fires, in conjunction with the southernly blowing winds from the first (sub)tropical storm of the year, Andrea, turned all of South Florida into a smoky, hazy morass for most of the week.

Not to totally disregard the negative repercussions of these fires to thousands of innocent Floridians, but the fact the entire State of Florida is on fire seems to me the most fitting end to my time here in the State.

An entire state on fire? Just as I'm planning to leave — possible forever?

How fucking appropriate is that?

It's almost as if nature is acting as my own personal Cortez, thus ensuring my departure as the only means of long-term survival.

And quite frankly, I could care less. All I know is that I've never been so glad I'm leaving Miami.

UPDATE: [P.S.] Just in case anyone was wondering, I had absolutely nothing to do with any of those fires. Really. No … really!

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The literary world suffered a major loss yesterday. Kurt Vonnegut, author of classics like Slaughterhouse-Five, Breakfast of Champions, and Cat's Cradle, died at the age of 84. While I can in no way pretend to be an authority of his works, I can say that his writing was equal parts brilliant and fascinating. He lived a pretty intense life - he fought at the Battle of the Bulge, and was captured by the Germans and was a P.O.W. for almost 18 months, during which he witnessed the bombing of Dresden. Upon his return, he was awarded the Purple Heart for what he referred to as a "ludicrously negligible wound". All of this commenced only months after his mother committed suicide. His novels were darkly foreboding, clever, and hilariously funny all at once. I figured I'd post this as a small testimony to his life. Here are his rules for writing a short story (this and other facts obtained from Wikipedia):

1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
4. Every sentence must do one of two things — reveal character or advance the action.
5. Start as close to the end as possible.
6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them — in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.

Vonnegut was also a brutal critic of the Bush administration, quoted as saying: "By saying that our leaders are power-drunk chimpanzees, am I in danger of wrecking the morale of our soldiers fighting and dying in the Middle East? Their morale, like so many bodies, is already shot to pieces. They are being treated, as I never was, like toys a rich kid got for Christmas in December."

Rest in Peace., Mr. Vonnegut.

How nice–to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.

PS - Credit to Wikipedia for much of the information in this post.

PPS - If this post doesn't work correctly, I'm flying to Costa Rica to meet Matt. Only one of us will return.

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We interrupt your regularly scheduled blog on mid-western folk music and surf reports:  

It's official. The sperm Anna Nicole Smith ingested through the portal to Hades that is her vagina belonged to Larry "Big Money" Birkhead. No shit. You mean the blue eyed, blonde haired Dannielynn isn't Howard K. Stern's ? How could this be?  

Gawd, who the fuck cares?! I mean, if this were anyone else they would have had this shit resolved on Maury Povich by the next commercial brake. No one even gave a rats ass whether that drugged up cow lived or died but the whole nation waits with baited breath to see who the fucking father of her sure to be spectacularly fucked up kid is. That kid is gonna need every cent of whatever money she gets to iron out the plethora of psychological issues she will have once someone shows her tapes of all this.

 To be perfectly honest, the only real winner in this is J. Howard Marshall. The bastard was lucky enough to bite the big one before having to witness this shit storm of attention whoring, money grubbing insanity. 

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No doubt you’ve all seen the next health life book to come out, CNN’s Dr. Sanjay Gupta’s Chasing Life. Why are people always flocking to buy this stuff? Don’t you have enough common sense to know what’s good for you? Why do you need to read a book to tell you how to live right? Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve learned a lot from books, like how to effectively operate my digital camera to how to put together a hasty ambush in an urban environment. Books are great.
 

I am continually enthralled at the money there is to be made in giving advice that your mother and grandmother gave to you when you were little. Eat your vegetables; a little wine is good for you, always walk everywhere if you can, avoid McDonalds, don’t gamble, etc. Americans are seemingly obsessed with living “healthy” and they all want to live to be 100. Why? Why on God’s green earth do you want to be an old phucker wearing diapers and sucking food down with a straw? Most old people I’ve known started bitching when they turned 75, and their zest for life went out the window. In the later stages they just wanted to die. I don’t want to live to be 100, my life is pretty miserable right now, so why give myself more years of crap and sorrow and loan payments? Oh sure, watching the grandchildren grow up, and seeing a few more sunsets is good, but those moments are fleeting, and the grandkids are not that excited to see you unless you give them presents or have something fun for them. Most of them can’t even stand the smell of you. And the little brats you raised probably want to get out of there too; they are too busy with their own lives and wanting to live to be 100.
But if you really want to be 100 or live a healthier, happier life here are some suggestions, and it might save you a few dollars as my advice is free. I’ll add this disclaimer that I am not 100, and that the suggestions I give you are purely speculative, unproven, and untested.
1) Eat your vegetables, and I don’t mean drink a V-8, I mean eat real vegetables like broccoli and cauliflower, carrots, etc.
2) Sit down with your family when you eat meals. A meal around the dinner table facilitates good grooming and manners, and may help your child become more disciplined and socially adapt. It’s also a good way to get to know each other and catch up on what is going on in everybody’s life.
3) Drink red wine in moderation. Not only does it help your heart or some shit like that, but it also moves the conversation along and sometimes even makes the missus look pretty good again. Don’t overdo it and be an asshole.
4) Diet drinks are not going to help you loose weight, who knows what chemicals you are putting into your body, drink plenty of water instead.
5) Everything in moderation, there are people who gain weight from eating fat free or diet foods because they think they can now eat without gaining weight because it’s “fat free.”  Don’t be an idiot, you’ll gain weight if you eat and eat. When I think the good life and moderation I think of the French or the Italians who drink a lot of wine, eat a lot of fattening food, but remain healthy and thin. They walk a lot, and they work a lot outside.  
6) Exercise, it’s really good for you. If you don’t have time how about walking up the stairs at work, parking far away at the grocery store, or just plain taking a stroll. Steps add up.
7) Try to relax and get enough sleep. This is hard in today’s fast-paced environment, but you will not be effective unless you get the rest that you need. 20 minute naps during the day have been proven to be effective.
8) Read books instead of watching TV. Reading will not only stimulate your brain and imagination, but it is an active process that flexes your brain muscles rather than passively watching the dumb tube. You might even become smarter and impress a coworker.
9) The Golden Rule works treat others as you’d want to be treated. Of course that doesn’t mean go up and rub your body against hot cheerleaders, you perv, or something freaky like that, but try not to be an asshole if somebody takes the last pot of coffee, and please replace the toilet roll if you use the last one.
10) Live within your means and try not to get into debt. Credit card debt will add up really quickly, but if you only spend money you have in your bank account your finances will be better, try getting a VISA check card if you don’t always have cash on hand.
11) Laugh a lot. Laughing can prolong your life and seriously improve your mood. I watch the Comedy Central and my coworkers a lot and they are always good for a laugh. So is trolling for funny videos on YouTube.
12) Quit reading advice from people you don’t know on the internet. There are some real freaks out there, and quite a few pervs.  
13) Don’t try to keep up with the young folks, act your age, and don’t wear clothing that is not appropriate for your age, or size. You don’t want to traumatize somebody.
14) Quit trying to chase life. Life happens, you will get old, and don’t waste your life reading about it, instead experience every moment of it. Get out of your comfort zone. Meet new people, see new places, and make a difference in somebody’s life. Who knows, somebody might make a difference in yours.

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So, today's the big day Stupid? Are you ready? Did you pack your toothbrush? Good. How about the cream for that….you know….thing. Oh, you did? Good. You don't want that flaring up during the flight. But if it does and you can't get to your cream, just ask the attendant for some butter and lemon pepper. Oh, my little boy is gonna travel all by himself (sniff) I'm so proud. Look, I put some money in your carry on bag in case you run out. No it's ok, I sold your portfolio. The rest of the money? That's not important right now. What's important is that you be safe and have fun. I really don't want a repeat of the Puerto Rico incident. Yes, I heard about that. How could you, Stupid? You're right, we named you that, so…….but he was barely 16 and had a full life ahead of him. Do you know how hard it is to hide a body in Puerto Rico? Lucky for you I have some "connections" there. Anyway, when you get to Singapore, ask for "Butuh" . It's customary for people to initially give you strange looks, perhaps even physically assault you, but if you keep asking, eventually someone will respond. And make sure you show your teeth when you smile, they like that. Oh, I told myself I wouldn't cry……(SNIFF!). Ok, I'm fine now. Look, have fun, be safe, and try not to worry about the plane crashing into a mountainside and you being forced to survive by consuming the flesh of other passengers. See ya!…..Maybe.

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I am a bad, bad person. I like to make fun of the Bible. It solidifies my role in life as a sinning smart ass. I like to flat out threaten people as thought I have Old Testament style Biblical powers. It's fun. I would like to say that it keeps me from swearing but, really, nothing keeps me from swearing. Honestly, I love the reaction you get from people when you tell them that you hope the Lord smites them with a plague of any kind. They're just confounded. I have a few favorites. I am a huge fan of threatening to enact a plague of frogs to beset someone's house. Gawd, that just makes me giggle. I mean, hoping that the villagers stone someone with stones until they die is one things, but wishing for their house to be overrun with frogs is just so damn weird. Hence, why I love it.

You have no idea how many times at work I have, in all seriousness, told people that, "if I have to come down there I am going to make it rain down sulfur." I'm pretty sure they know I can't do this, but still, it's about as grave of a threat as you could imagine.

Maybe I could do it. Who knows? It seems that most of the people in the Bible who were subjected to strange happenings never really expected it. So, why not me? Kind of like the time I thought for about 3 minutes, that it could be possible that I was carrying the Messiah. Of course, this was crushed by my friend Chris who pointed out that God would "never put no Jesus in a woman who wear Marc Jacobs shoes and gets her nails did." Fine.

I am certain that this behavior on my part solidifies that I wll be arriving in Hell in a bobsled (a handbasket just ain't fast enough) and that Satan, I'm sure, has something special planned for me. In the meantime, I'm going to go try and find a shirt that says, "Got Locusts?"

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Alright, fuck this blogging thing. I'm following Somebody Told Me's  example and I'm gettin' mine, bitches. I'm enrolling in an online course for my B.A. in…you guessed it….Homeland Security. I've gone over the list of core classes, and I've come up with some great ways to apply my new skills: 

Regulatory Issues in Weapons of Mass Destruction: In the event Bush manages to irradiate the US I really want to make sure the depleted Uranium I have in my backyard meets Regulatory Standards. That's just how I roll.

Cyber Law and Privacy in the Digital Age: After Mr. stupid dies from the bite of the Costa Rican Reallyfuckindeadlyviper snake, I plan to use my newfound administrator power to flood all commentors with spam for Vaginoplasty and celebrity upskirt. All 3 of you.

Chemical and Biological Defense: No longer will the stench from Perez Hilton's site reduce me to a trembling mass of flesh.

Intermeddiate Terrorism: I'l have to re enroll for Advanced Terrorism next semester. I ain't rich yet. For now I'm only allowed 1 car bombing per month, 2 Anthrax threats, but umlimited voter ballot tampering in Florida.

Cyber Warfare: People's eardrums will actually rupture when I type in CAPS! 

Get ready to reap the whirlwind, you lousy hippies.

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