Note to Reader: These were supposed to be posted on Saturday. Sorry for the delay.

Whassup, one and all?!
At least, to those who read this...

Okay, in any case, I decided to post some random thoughts for Saturday night/Sunday morning:

I have a midterm paper due on Wednesday for The Genius of Modern Theater's Professor Brinberg. And had it not been for the genius thinking of myself and Tavie, it would have been due Monday. I decided that my paper will be done on Henrik Ibsen's An Enemy of The People. I've read it, and it's very fascinating. But then again, compared to the other writers I've read in class, Ibsen is the only one that fascinates me. Brinberg wouldn't be to happy about that comment; not that anything that disagrees with her opinions would be approved. And this is a professor who has dreams and visions of what these writers were thinking as each word was put on paper. In fact, in her dreams, she talks to these writers; like Shaw, Ibsen, and Chekov. She's almost like John Edward. In my opinion, she's someone who needs this "psycho-therapy" that she speaks of so often. But then again, provided the way she talks about it, perhaps it's not working...

There's this girl in my Money & Banking class who in every chance she gets, sits in "my" seat. Well, it's not exactly my seat; but ever since I came to the class in September, I've been sitting in that same seat in front of the two Asian dudes I talk to often (part of my kliq). And while I admit, she does look nice (and has been approved by my kliq), and I do want to talk to her, something's just too good to be true. Someone like her has got to have a man; either that, or her parents are very over-protective. I mean, what if she just like the seat? What if she is a very open person? What if she just likes my company? Now before you say "Enough with the 'what if's'!," may I direct your attention to the last time I said "Okay, enough with the what ifs"? (And if you don't remember, see being "the middle man".) It cost me a chance to get with a cool girl, and gained me, yet again, another friend. Nothing' wrong with it, but it still sucks. One more week, and I'll find out whether this girl is worth the chance...

Nothing says cool like family coming together for a cause. And with the death of rap legend Jam Master Jay, the hip-hop family coming together to support his family was real cool. Now, I never knew the dude personally, or professionally; nor did I really get into his music. But I still can respect a Brother who has made it big. And I, in my own little way, paid my respects to the Brother (you know, the ceremony with the hats and Adidas they had), and all I have is love for his family. In fact, I wish them all well, and hope they get through this tough time as a family. But once again, it's cool how the hip-hop community got together to help. I mean, some of the debts will be cleared, the children will go to college if they choose to, it looks like they might be all set. As far as the end of Run DMC goes, you know what, I have only one song on my CD with their music, and one performance of them on WrestleMania V, but I will say that I respect their decision, and their way of thinking. In short, 'nuff respect to all of them.

As I write this post, I seem to get that weird feeling again. Maybe because it's Saturday night, I'm doing absolutely nothing, and I have work on Sunday. But I don't know. As far as the day went, the usual Costco shopping, laundry washing schedule was spiced up with a cab ride and a haircut (well whoopee, one would say.) I really do need a girl. But then I think, isn't the girl thinking that a man would give her a good time? How is that gonna happen when I seem to not have a good time by myself? Maybe I'm getting this all wrong, maybe I'll never know; but at least my bluntness about the whole affair is evident...

I also have undertaken a rather unusual task in typing up all my class notes. Not because my exams are 85% based on notes (90% in Brinberg's class), but for the hell of it. Something clicked in my head and said, "what a better way to pass time in the afternoon than mastering Microsoft Word typing up my notes!" Now, guys are waiting in the wings for them! I gotta start charging these people...
Speaking of Word, my self-help Photoshop training is going excellent! I have mastered some of the properties that make Photoshop great, and I'm getting used to some of the plugins for Photoshop. In fact, I've already constructed some tape covers for my Bret Hart @ WrestleMania tapes. The Best of Wrestlemania XIII-IV is near completion, and I will test out my skills once more!

Ah, those WrestleManias of old. Brings back memories of when I wanted the championship belts that Hogan and Savage wore. In fact, I now have the World Heavyweight title replica in my house, and occasionally I'll pose for a second or two with it (just before RAW is on!) It feels good to feel like a kid again, even if it is for a few minutes out of the week.

Look at this (okay, you can't, so I'll describe it for ya!) Some jabroni but another 12 cents in my paypal account. Whassupwidat??

Ah, great reminder. Mr. "Actionfigure 2 Play" wanted to know what a jabroni is. Just to let you know, there really is no such word as jabroni. It's one of those slang catch-terms that are created, and used frequently; like whomps, for example. Now, when it was created, jabroni was a slang term in wrestling for a jobber, someone who would lose a match to make the opponent look good (Barry Horowitz would've been the perfect example, until he beat Skip Candido...)
Now, the people up in the city, especially those like myself who are into wrestling, expand the usage of the word jabroni to something a little more practical. Now, as I define it, a jabroni is the mildest way to say... an asshole.
Hold up, that doesn't mean jabroni means asshole. How can I put this, you have levels of put-downs, some taken lightly, some taken with a teaspoon of salt, some taken with ibuprofen, and some that lead to serious fights. Jabroni is perhaps the lowest level of put down imaginable. I mean, anybody can say jabroni. It has no real effect; it doesn't make you a bad guy if you use the term. Ah, I got it; it's a play word. A word with little weight. That's a jabroni; the harmless way to call someone an idiot, or a moron, or an ass without any real problems. It would be very hard to take offense to someone calling you a jabroni, lest you were a pro-wrestler of course...

Well, Mister "Freaky Delicious", I hope I took you on the inside of that one...

Ah, Mikey also made me remember something that has been on my mind since I left high school. A woman whose whereabouts still remain a mystery to me. You see, back when I was a just another high school shy guy, I met this girl named Thaisha Anglero. Ah yes, those fond memories come flooding down like tears in my eyes. She and I had a ball, talked up a storm about everything under the sun, had great times enjoying each other's company; it almost was a crime that she was involved with someone else. In fact, everyone was telling me at the time they couldn't believe that we weren't an item, providing the way we used to chill. Nonetheless, she had a man, and I respected that. Interestingly, I have not seen her since graduation day. It would be just amazing to find her once again, and catch one hell of a case of nostalgia. Just to know what she's doing, what she's been up to, how life has been treating her. Oh that day will be something to post...

Until then, all I can do is this. Hope the guy got his 12 cents worth.
Until next time...