If music were a drug, this song would be the crystal meth of songs.

Upon first hearing the listener is instantly addicted, followed by periods of repeat usage, uncontrollable arm, leg, and mouth movements, and depression in times the song is not playing. Over-usage can lead to dental problems as the song is so sweet it causes cavities.

P.S. she sounds a lot like Jewel.

(Source: Spotify)

Middle Eastern Studies Teacher

fittingly named Miss Israel.

Class!

Who would like

extra credit?

Sure. Why Not?

Read this poem

about the life

and struggles

and strife

Of a woman

A brave Arab woman

I can do that.

See me after class.

I’m ready to read.

Then follow me.

no, not in front of me,

But to these

faces.

Too many to count.

No time to prepare.

I get to the stage.

Hiding behind the book I recite

an angry manifesto

not written by me, or for me.

I cannot focus on her words.

I cannot focus on her work.

I don’t know what I am saying.

Spinning, sweating, confused,

embarrassed.

It’s over.

Thank you.

Would you like to stay for some pizza?

I’ve been told my posts have been a bit melancholy lately…

So here is Mr Fluffles in cat hut.

Enjoy and Happy Easter!

sfmex99 (4 hrs ago)
U too conceited and full of yourself to respond? Good luck in life being so vain and fake.

(my response)

Dear Chex-Mix,

Don’t be silly and jump to conclusions. Are you really that conceited that you can pass judgment on a stranger. Are you such a intellectual that you can read into the nuances of Internet sex site messages. ( or in this case, lack of) or maybe you’re a psychic, but than you would have know what I’m going to say.

Here’s why I didn’t respond:
1. You said I had a nice body. None of my pictures display my body, so obviously you didn’t even bother to look at my entire profile or you throw out non-applicable comments willy-nilly to anybody.

2. You’re not my type. The beauty of this site is I don’t have to respond to anyone for any reason. No harm no foul.

Obviously your self esteem is so influenced by this site and the “hot body Papi” messages you receive, that you can’t stand rejection.

Good luck and I hope you figure everything out.

JT

bivins01 asked: "An Education" post? Brilliant.

Thank you :)

I received my first major English essay back yesterday. Although I rushed through it, I was expecting at least a “B”.

Why shouldn’t I? Writing assignments and research papers in my other classes have merited me “A”s with “well written”, “insightful” and “impressive” scrawled upon the top.

As Mr. Professor Teacher passed the papers back he prefaced by saying, “I know a lot of you won’t be happy with your grade but don’t worry. You can rewrite the paper till the end of the semester.”

I wondered if I would have enough time at the end of the semester to turn my “B” into an “A”. Then he approached my desk and handed me my paper.

Scribbles. Lots of scribbles. Oh he must have passed back a prescription or a parking ticket instead.  Flipping to the back of the eight pages, I bypassed all the scribbles and focused only on two numbers.

60/100?

60/100!

How could my well written, slightly grammatically incorrect, (I’m not the best proof reader as you can probably tell from my other blog posts) but usually those slight errors are overlooked, get a D. As I began to decipher the scribbles, they weren’t circling the mistaken “then” and “than” or absent commas. I read the note on the back of the essay, (long enough to be an essay in its own right), and to slightly paraphrase here’s what it said:

“This is a good start, Jason. You have an understanding of the techniques the author is using, but your assertions seem disjointed. You don’t tell us what his or your thesis is. That is why you come up short. You need to follow instructions and follow through. You’re on the right track”

Disjointed?

No thesis?

As if!

Then I reread the paper. He does make a point.

I threw out tons of information. “He does this”, “He does that”, but never have I considered “why?” Then I realized this essay, these silly eight pages, is how I live almost every aspect of my life.

I’ve gotten by with a little razzle dazzle and some word play in my other classes.  Make my point then move onto the next, never really thinking about scratching beyond the surface of what I’m writing about. So when I make a larger piece of work where it’s not just the quality of my work but also the content, all of my magic tricks and tools that I use to make everything seem satisfactory are ineffective. My essay was empty.

This is not unlike my life.

I’ve given my life a C+ average. My jobs are good enough, my home is good enough, my interpersonal relationships are good enough, my looks are good enough. Getting by is not succeeding. To the reader, the neatly printed paper with flowing lyrical sentences seems nice. Is there anything to take away from it? Does the reader learn? No.

I’ve just been vomiting assertions. “Jason will lose weight” “Jason will go to school” but I have no support to back these assertions up. To dig deeper, the question “why” is never asked. If my life were a essay it would look like this:

Jason wishes to lose weight. He wants to lose weight because he wants to do it. He will lose weight by losing it. Jason wants to graduate from college. He says he will graduate from college so he will graduate.

All talk and page filling BS. In my last (slightly melodramatic) post I made a declaration to find some purpose to my life. I guess now I have to figure out how.

On the eve of my 29^th birthday, still young enough to make mistakes and grow, but old enough to know better, I will figure out these goals, but more importantly how to make them happen.

A “D” on an essay is unacceptable. A “D” in life is just tragic.

Son-of-a bitch.

In one week I will be twenty-nine. In 53 weeks I will be thirty.

 If this were medieval times I would almost be dead, if not dead already from a cold.

I would probably have really cool long hair. I wonder if I would be in the royal court, at least as an artist. Probably, I would end up selling bejeweled dresses to princesses.  

Fuck my beautifully maned medieval self.

I digress.

A lot has happened this year, although nothing has happened.

He speaks in riddles! What of this nonsense?

Nothing has defined me this year. Nothing momentous, or dramatic (thank Jesus), nothing that has filled me with overwhelming happiness or plunged me into the depths of my soul seeking answers.

I don’t think I’m depressed although by definition depression isn’t sadness; it’s being devoid of emotions. How could I become so indifferent to my own life and be content simply to exist? I enjoy existence, (no need to call any hotlines), but why haven’t I figured out what my passion is.

I have my hobbies (cleaning, jogging, shopping, eating crackers and peanut butter) but none of those are my passions. I watch TV and movies but hardly religiously. I’m a marginally good student, so I’m good at that, but what happens after? Go to work, school part time, get a degree, and then what? What happens? Nice guys have been floating around but I don’t think I have the capacity for anything major. Friends and family are always fun and supportive although sometimes I feel overwhelmed by obligations.  I’ve tried exercise. It take my indifferent self and turns it into sweaty, tired, slightly fitter, but still indifferent. Why can’t I live in my bed like Gilbert Grapes mom? I would think someone would bring me food and roll me over.

This is no way to live. I want to be carefree like the people on boxes of cereal and advertisements for adult diapers. I want to have passion like crazy housewives yelling at each other over inane shit. Why can’t I achieve pre-fab happiness that graces the pages of Real Simple Magazine? Yes, I can make 15 minute meals, dealing with my mother-in-law while wearing a slimming blouse for under $50 dollars. Is my sense of reality skewed? Am I smarter then I appear yet dimmer than I think?

In retrospect this post is more of an emotional purge so don’t read too much into it. It’s just the ramblings of my mind, although it leads to this declaration:

My twenty-ninth year is when I am going to find my passion.

I don’t know how or even how to scratch the surface, but I have twelve months to figure it out.

I’m going to make it count.

most M4M Craigslist Missed Connections go something like this-

This is to the hottie at 24 Hour/Starbucks/Muni this morning. We couldn’t stop staring at each other. I loved your beard/shaved head/tank-top. It would be nice to get together and get coffee/a drink/some lunch. I was the guy who was listening to an Ipod/was on the Stairmaster/drinking a Venti Skinny Vanilla Latte. Attached is a picture of my penis.

Dear Computer-nets and Inter-webs,

Nothing has happened of importance to blog about so I will blog about mundane things. 

Had a great at-home work out. I didn’t have to leave my apartment to exercise. ooohhhh

I have to study for a mid-term about the Middle East. Hope I’m prepared! Booooo!

I lost about 8lbs but I can’t see any noticeable difference anywhere except my legs that don’t need to be smaller. Chicken Legs?! Noooooooo!

I went to buy a jacket at Bloomingdale’s but they were sold out but I found it much cheaper online. Horray!

Meeting a friend at Zuni tomorrow for dinner. Yummm

Was going to do laundry today but putting it off till tomorrow! I’m so lazy! LOL

Ate a box of crackers yesterday. Hey! That wasn’t on my diet! ROFL

Thank you for your time.

Jason