[Previous entry: "Red Oyster Cult"] [Main Index] [Archive Index] [Next entry: "Barracuda"]

04/22/2004: "Who's There"

Hello again, Radiskull here.
I'm writing this entry against my better judgement, being that I don't think I presently have enough material to come up with a blog of the standard level of quality [or lack thereof], but I'm going to anyway because it's been a week. There had better damn well be something noteworthy that happened in the past week or so.

First things first, .brak//SIGN has recieved a rather important additon. Since mid-way through freshman year there have been a few of us playing this incredibly awesome game called [Eat Poop You Cat], and I finally got around to scanning a few of these games and putting them online. That link in the last sentance will take you to the page with links to our scans, the rules and history of the game, and a mailing link to send us your own EPYCs. Also: Lizz supposedly has a ton of the old ones sitting around, so I'll try and nab those and get 'em scanned and online.

I realized that I'm turning into my father. This revelation was brough on me the other day on account of the fact that, with my father being gone 4/7 days of the week [avrg.], I've taken to using all of his witty little sayings myself. If the metamorphisis ever becomes complete, I'm asking you all, as my friends, to bash my head in with a shovel, because I can not become my dad. He's a cool guy for the most part, but if I were ever that uptight about everything, I'm sure I'd want to be killed.

The Miege One-Acts were good. I've decided that if theater were that entertaining all the time, I'd go see it more often. I'm still more of a film person, but funny is funny, and you can't argue with that. On that note: Ethan needs to wear capes more often; and he's quite dashing in red. [Whereas Red=FLAMING(ly Gay)... *cough*]

Now we need a little time devoted to parks, because I spend to much time there, as a result of their awesomeness. The first story is better than the second, but I'm a bitch to cronology, so just go with it. A while back Lizz and I were at Loose Park at some ungodly hour of the night, which isn't anything usual, but this particular outing was surreal. The second we get out of the car, there's an explosion in the distance.

[No, it wasn't someone getting shot at the 7-11 at 63rd and Oak...]

There were fireworks. It musta been April 17th, not a national holiday or anything, and someone was having this hugeass fireworks show at like 10:45 at night. If anyone can shed light on this, the community as a whole [mostly me, maybe Lizz] will be forever thankful. So we just stood there, watching the fireworks as the kept... exploding and stuff. For some reason it felt wrong to walk away while they were still going, so we watched the whole thing. About then a security guy pulled up and we quickly walked away, not wanting to get busted for some non-existant curfew law.

This was to be a severe mistake. We meandered around to the other end of the park, trying to wait out the rentacop. Eventually he came over to where we were, but only to make sure there were no bums sleeping in the tennis courts. Dodged a bullet on that one, or so it would seem. Thinking we were in the clear in terms of getting busted, we just sat a while longer, until another car pulled up.

I jokingly turn to Lizz and say "I bet he's here for a drug deal." Seconds later another vehicle pulls up, 2 people exit their respective automobiles, and we got up to leave quickly, because I was probably righter than I thought. En route back to the car, I noticed one of the gates to the parking lot by the pavillion was chained shut. 'Curious,' I thought to myself. We get to the car, and I tell Lizz to go out the other exit.

Which is also chained shut. Note the use of the word 'other', implying that there were only 2 exits. Both chained shut. At 11:30 at night. Earlier, the security gaurd must have been locking them as we scurried away. I spring into action like a poorly formulated Marvel Super Hero though. Humming the theme to Flash Gordon I quickly surveyed both exits, looking for a route to bypass the chained gates. Finding one, I told Lizz to back up the car, and straighten that sucker out, because jumping curbs in Missiouri is not one of your ordinary holiday games.

Warnall was finally clear, I gave her the signal, and holy shit was it glorious. The car went across the grassy part, sailing over the curb, making a satisfying scrape noise as it made contact with the poorly-kept city street. I chased her over onto a side street, hopped in the passenger's seat, and away! So concludes the law-breaking, curb-jumping portion of the blog.

The second story is similar, except it's Lizz and I wandering around Shawnee Mission Park during the day, finding out that that place is uncannily filled with people, even during the middle of the day, on a Monday no less.

Later on, during this week, my mom's cell phone was sitting on the table, turned on in case Erin needed to call from play practice or whatever. It rings, so I pick it up, and I answer with one of my typical answers I have saved up, just for Erin.

"Perv's Porn Pallace. Hot Azns 49 on sale for just 9.99. How may I help you?"

"WHAT?!" [Yelled in a drunken voice]

"Stop calling me! You can't have the baby!"

Some day she's going to go crazy and kill a bunch of people, and it's going to be my fault. But the funny thing being, this time it wasn't Erin on the phone. This is highly weird because no one else has that number except my dad... who was in CT, so it couldn't have been him. It turned out to be some guy who wanted to know if he'd reached (number). I told him I didn't know, because it was the cell phone and he had the wrong number. He asked again, so I hung up. Fucker.

Phone rings again. Freaky. I turn the thing off.

This is reminiscent of the other weird phone calls I've gotten in the past. Once, a long time ago, I picked it up and some little girl was on the line. I said "Hello?" and she replies: "Ho ho, bitch bitch." *click* I just stood there, dumbfounded. That was almost as good as the time Danny Morris prank called me and said some lame pokemon joke [I was a fan, so sue me], and I Star-69-ed him, and yelled at his dad about how he shouldn't let strange and retarded children use his phone.

But nothing tops the calls I get from the Missouri State Penitentiary. Those are the keepers. They come collect too, so it's like:

RobotVoice: "You have a collect call from *loud grunting sound, recorded by the sender* at the Missouri State Penitentiary. Please hold to take the call." At the time I was like... 7, and had no idea what a collect call was, so I stayed on. When the call got put through I heard the most incoherent string of curses I'd ever heard at the ripe old age of 7, and was totally freaked out.

Looking back on that now, it's immensely entertaining, but when I go psycho and kill a bunch of people, they'll trace it back to that, and everyone will be all "Oooooh. That explains it. Tom Hogan... what a fucker."

Today/Yesterday Katie F. [whose last name I refuse to spell, because it'll get spelled wrong no matter how hard I try] went about repairing Claudia. The Claudia that Lizz killed. Now she has a plastic cover in her frame, so when Lizz tries to kill her again in a fit of jealous rage, we can avoid any more bloodshed.

She also came up with a campaign slogan I'm determined to use:

Tom Hogan- Putting the 'F-U' in 'fun'! [Expect a fun graphic of that to show up eventually, just in time for me to run for StuCo president in 2005]

Wow. That entry turned out longer than I'd expected. And I also realized there's no real point to these little outros. [Like as in the opposite of Intro, Outro, just fucking go with it.] You know then entry's over when you see the cowboy thing... so... I guess I should just start ending right with the cowboy thing.

Girlfriends are for Emo Kids.
Outros are for losers.
Calls from the Penitentiary are reserved for Cowboys.

Replies: 3 Buddies Neglected Their Oral Hygine

The fireworks... Yeah. 10 bucks says it was my nieghbors.

Said [hank] on Thursday, April 22nd

hope and bob and i were walking to winsteads when we saw the display. it was neat.
then hank and eric yelled at us from erics car, and we jumped in and caught a ride to the rest of the way to winsteads.

Said [r-unit] on Saturday, April 24th

things link together real well in kansas city...

Said [Josh] on Sunday, April 25th