Duke of Yesterbeer

I mentioned in my first post that I was a college drop out. Let me relate to you the sad tale of how that came to be. It may be one of the lowest points in my entire life.

I was a kid that didn't come from much. Single parent, middle income. I had enough toys to get by. Anyway, skip ahead to Senior Year of highschool, I just got a letter in the mail saying I got in to Duke University.

"Wow," I said.

And then I decided to go there. Things were going great for me: I had a lot of cool friends, I was a dedicated church goer, my grades couldn't have been better, and I was in the best shape of my life. One day I was out on the Quad doing my normal Suicide runs to work on my stamina when these guys came up to me and asked me to play them in a game of One-on-One.

I said, "Sorry, brah, I don't shoot hoops."

But then they chuckled and told me that they wanted to put me to the test in something else. A game called lacrosse. I held up the cross around my neck and said, "Dis iz tee onlee L'cross I need" in my best French accent. Well, they were rolling on the floor laughing their asses off, and when they came to they handed me a stick. Within the hour I had joined the team and they put me as first string Quarterback.

I was a phenom. I could score a goal from half court, my putting put the other teams to shame, I never once missed a catch, and when I pitched the pig skin it always ended up over the homeplate endzone. I even perfected the dreaded square knot. Life was great: My friends got a whole lot cooler, not only did I preach sermons now but I was doing the old preacher's wife, to the suprise of my professors my grades improved to a level that hadn't been invented yet, my body became harder than maplewood, and I got really really good at listing things.

Were the parties awesome? Yeah, they were... or so I thought!

I said life was a roller coaster, baby. And I meant it. I had nowhere to go now but down. I was at one of our team's nightly party in one of the Dorms and I had had a few brews. I thought it would be a good idea to impress the ladies by showing off my dance moves so I busted out the "lawnmower." You know, that dance where you pretend to pull the rip cord from one of those grass cutters? Anyway, as I was pulling my hand back I lost control of my tricep for a second and my hand flew backwards and touched... a black girl's tit.

I'll use a simile now that a lot of my sheltered video game loving readers might get. It was like I was on level 25 in Toe Jam & Earl and I was in sight of the last ship piece when I got a rocketskates. So I decide to go all the way down to level 1 and rocketskate over to the bottom left corner and drop down to Level Zero. I drink the rootbeer and burp and then I hop in the hot tub to chill out with some Hawaiian girls while my life bar refills. I reach over and accidentally bump my tentacle into the Hula Girls titty only to realize that she's actually black!

The Paradox that is Level Zero is what my Blog is all about. In one sense it is the absolute lowest level that one can go to. But also falling off of it will lead you right back to the highest level you've ever reached in the game so far. It's a precipice/black hole that only a Chinaman would dare venture into. It's the very essence of Blogitude.

Well as you can imagine my world fell apart. After having brushed my hand against the titty of the black girl my friend had just finished raping, I couldn't show my face around anymore. People were talking about it behind my back, my parents weren't talking to me at all, and the Popo's (that's black slang for police that's infected me just from that touch) kept coming to my dorm room to ask me questions. I felt awful and so I quit going to class. I just stayed in my room and ate Mickey D's (Nuts) and thought about killing myself or at least masturbating myself.

I failed all my classes except for my Hebrew class, which I got an A in because the teacher didn't want to scar her record, and I was forced to drop out. I went from King Duke of Point Scoring to That Guy Who Touched a Black Girl's Boob Ewwwwwwwwww. I'm heavily medicated now, and I've come to deal with it all by posting about it in this public blog so that you'll all either pity me or fake pity me while feeling better about yourself for only touching white or yellow tits.

Gone Fishin'

Let me first start off by introducing myself. I'm Matthew, college drop-out and all around doer of low things. I like to compare my life to that of a roller coaster, a continuous track of ups and downs and loop-di-loops and whiptail-curly-zups and sticky seats that smell like kid pee. I believe the measure of a man's life can be summed up by which roller coaster he most relates to, whether he be a timid Scooby Doo Ghosta Coasta or a neck-wrenching Ninja. He may relate most to the Rockin' Roller Coaster if he's into the extreme Aerosmith-rock-a-thon lifestyle of killing 12-year-old boys. Gotcha thinkin' about those sharp corkscrew turns? Good!

Ok, so play along with me now as I try out a little thought experiment. We all know that if you dig a hole straight through the Earth, straight through Hell, then you end up in China, right? Now what if there was a coaster so X-treme that it went so far down through enough crust, magma, and damned that it ended up in the land of China (aka The Orient, aka The Borient! lol). Would that American coaster's lowest drop not also be the Chinaman's tallest incline?

Can one man's lowest point also be another man's highest?

Yes, I think so. Especially today because I've done the lowest thing I've ever done in my entire life. Something so vile that I promised myself back when I was a man of faith that I would never ever ever ever do it. I started a web log (and from here on out I'm going to stoop to using the term blog even though it makes me cringe and feel even more homosexual than I already normally do). What better way for others to feel completely better about themselves than to read about the most subhuman actions of another all under the protective blanket of internet anonymity?

What am I thinking? I'm now apart of a "blogosphere," a community of bloggers who spend their days blogging about metablogology and about which blogs they may or may not have blogged on any given day of the blogender (that's a Blogging Calender for those blognoobz). I have to get out of the mindset that I'm writing for my own personal self. This isn't my journal, dude, I've got an audience to attend to. The Blogdience.

There is a circle of life out here in the wilds of the blogosphere, a constant cycle of pity and ego stroking that lets us all feel better. For those above me in the food chain I'll be like the Inverted MegaEarthChute Drop Coaster that all the Chinamen love to ride on. All my pathetic low points that I'm going to lay out everyday will be a constant reaffirmation of their awesome blogs that talk about, I dunno, scoring with chicks or winning Yu-gi-oh tournaments. Now for the other half that are below me (well come on maybe that other tenth) on the chain, I'm gonna be this pimped-out Carney that has a sweet ass roller coaster that goes through the center of the motherfucking Earth. They're gonna want to ride on that thing. So they are going to post comments about how rad I am and how much shittier their blog-scene is. All this shit will form a giant web connecting blogger to blogger. This is where the term weblog comes from, it's Latin for a web of shit logs dangling from Zeus's asshole.

It's going to be one smelly ride that I hope you will all be able to stomach, because it will be my job to try and relate all of the low things I've stooped to in my time and when I run out of old things I'll have to start doing new things. So I'm casting my rod and I'm looking to fish up some juicy comments from all of you bloggers out there riding your shit logs (blogs) down this Splash Mountain rip-off that's going to be built next to my rad Coaster of extreme lowness (unless you're Chinese of course). That being said I have a lot of cutting and van burning to attend to now that I'm on the blog train so I will bid you all a "Good Blogight."