Did I just see the Four Horsemen?
Hey Folks. Remember me? I'll bet you do. After that night in Newark with the sexually confused German Goth chick . . . oh yeah! So anyway, my life is chaos. So much is going wrong at the wrong time, or right at the wrong time, or every which way at all times that I feel I will surely perish. Now, wanna hear the worst part? I can't tell you all the juiciest parts. Awesome, huh? After the smoke clears I'll recount all in detail, but for now I can't for the sake of my friends invovled. And it's not just one situation with one group of friends. It's two. Damn. It's nuts, I tells ya. I wish I could say more. I really do. And not just because it would make my blog the most popular in the known surrounding townships. I've been wanting to let a bunch out and onto these pixilated pages for about a week. I can't. For the sake of my friends. Lousy jerks, I wish they all . . . razza fraggin'. Oh well. However, I can tell you some things. Let's start with work, shall we?
Roofing. It was bad before and I didn't think it possible but it got worse. You see, this is how it used to work: I'd arrive at the job, climb to the roof, rip the old shingles off (along with at least two other guys) and then go clean up the old shingles. Moreover, a lot of the jobs were at Doverbrook, which has nice broad, gradually sloping roofs. It was hard, but manageable. Now I am on the roofs all the time. Well, almost all the time. Half the time I am lugging awkward 80lbs bundles of shingles up ladders. The roof I have been working on is neither broad nor gradually sloping. It is insanely steep and high. And I have to nail the shingles on. Not with a nail gun. No. That'd be too easy. With a hammer and loose nails. I'm tired of it. The pay, ten bucks an hour under the table, is almost not worth it. I wanna work in a bookstore. Plus, I'm working out three days a week. I'm sore and tired and without free time. Wah wah wah.
Next, I've been feeling guilty. It's odd how if you consider being guilty about something it gnaws at you until you're sure you're responsible. All I have to go on is rumor and scant evidence, but I think the night of the prom Jess Geoffroy and Mike Mitzgel (I know that's spelt wrong, but you freaking Poles need to learn about a little something called phonetics. Caitlin, I'm lookin' at you.) Anyway, they may have done something they'll both regret. Physically. Invovling bodily fluid exchange. You get where I'm going? I don't know how far they went. I doubt that far, 'cause Mike's a decent guy, but he is a teengae boy, and Jess did look pretty hot, and does worship him . . . . I don't know how strong willed he is. I'm only typing this gossip because I figured everyone already knew and it is to support my larger point. Anyway. I got to thinking that she's only 15. Way too young for that. And that it might do some serious emotional damage. Then I thought, if i hadn't broken up with her, if I had gone along with my original plan to break up after prom, that wouldn't have happened. (If indeed it happened at all.) So I feel bad.
So much for all that work for the fucking school newspaper. It looks like it won't be printed at all. Bastards! I'll try to post it on this blog if I can.
Everything's goin' nuts.
Aaaah!
In about two weeks I'll explainit all. Till then. Stay posted.
Roofing. It was bad before and I didn't think it possible but it got worse. You see, this is how it used to work: I'd arrive at the job, climb to the roof, rip the old shingles off (along with at least two other guys) and then go clean up the old shingles. Moreover, a lot of the jobs were at Doverbrook, which has nice broad, gradually sloping roofs. It was hard, but manageable. Now I am on the roofs all the time. Well, almost all the time. Half the time I am lugging awkward 80lbs bundles of shingles up ladders. The roof I have been working on is neither broad nor gradually sloping. It is insanely steep and high. And I have to nail the shingles on. Not with a nail gun. No. That'd be too easy. With a hammer and loose nails. I'm tired of it. The pay, ten bucks an hour under the table, is almost not worth it. I wanna work in a bookstore. Plus, I'm working out three days a week. I'm sore and tired and without free time. Wah wah wah.
Next, I've been feeling guilty. It's odd how if you consider being guilty about something it gnaws at you until you're sure you're responsible. All I have to go on is rumor and scant evidence, but I think the night of the prom Jess Geoffroy and Mike Mitzgel (I know that's spelt wrong, but you freaking Poles need to learn about a little something called phonetics. Caitlin, I'm lookin' at you.) Anyway, they may have done something they'll both regret. Physically. Invovling bodily fluid exchange. You get where I'm going? I don't know how far they went. I doubt that far, 'cause Mike's a decent guy, but he is a teengae boy, and Jess did look pretty hot, and does worship him . . . . I don't know how strong willed he is. I'm only typing this gossip because I figured everyone already knew and it is to support my larger point. Anyway. I got to thinking that she's only 15. Way too young for that. And that it might do some serious emotional damage. Then I thought, if i hadn't broken up with her, if I had gone along with my original plan to break up after prom, that wouldn't have happened. (If indeed it happened at all.) So I feel bad.
So much for all that work for the fucking school newspaper. It looks like it won't be printed at all. Bastards! I'll try to post it on this blog if I can.
Everything's goin' nuts.
Aaaah!
In about two weeks I'll explainit all. Till then. Stay posted.
3 Comments:
For the Jess/Mike thing, if it is true (which I somehow doubt): Each person is responsible for his or her own destiny. The weakness and stupidity of others is not your fault. 'Nuff said.
For the work thing:
I feel your pain . . . kinda. I just started working at Amherst college as a painter, and the work varries from physically exhaustine to mind-numbingly dull. I've gotten very sick very fast, I'm pretty bored and lonely by the end of every day, and I've had NO FREE TIME whatsoever to work on any of my side projects. Work sucks. I hate my job and I hate the delayed effectiveness of the money I earn (all for my college spending.)
Anywho, I'm not going to be nosey, mainly because I don't care about the details that much. I'm here for support if you need it, as well as some crackpot advise.
By
Zoopers, at 11:29 PM
Bench pressing a given quantity for any number of reps is generally less energy-consuming than carrying a significantly smaller quantity for any distance for any elongated period of time. Just thought I'd throw that out there. As a weakling, I can press about 110 lbs (To be honest, maybe more, but my crappy weight set only goes up to 110 pounds . . .) but I couldn't carry anywhere near that much on my back if I were hiking. And that's my back, not on top of my arms. In other words, if Rich can press 280 lbs as his absolute limit, he can "comfortably" haul only about half that underhanded. Now take into account how many times he has to carry that weight and how faw and it's not hard to see why he has a hard time. Muscels break down as you use them, that's how they rebuild to become stronger (except with Zombies, who gradually deteriorate in muscel strength as they are unable to regenerate themselves.) So, there you go. Straight from Doctor Professional.
(My math is bullshit and I think I made most of that up, but it sounds good.)
Anywho, come on. The poor guy is hauling something undeniably heavy up a very steep incline several feet in the air. I don't care how strong you are, struggling to keep balance alone with that kind of weight is exhausting.
You can giggle at me weakness now. I make up for it with skill. *fingers playing card and winks*
By
Zoopers, at 10:26 AM
Alrighty then. Thanks for elucidating, Tones. Your were very right.
Now, to respond to Steve.
Firstly, Steve, when you put your mind to it, you really can be a jerk. My work is freaking hard. Normally I don't whine about it like those hypocrites in the Bible that rip their clothing and color under their eyes when they roof, but it is really hard. I challenge anyone I know to try roofing for a day. I don't think anyone could do it. Maybe Sean . . . but he's kinda lazy, so probably not even him. Tony might, cause he has an inhuman pain tolerance and would do it for spite's sake. Or for Sprite's sake. But he doesn't tolerate stupid things that have to be done for no reason, so he probably wouldn't do it either. Roofing isn't just tedious, it's physically demanding and painful. And requires a surpising amount of balance and precision. Plus it's bad if you're scared of heights. I never said anyone made my work out. I do that to improve myself. I do have to work, though. I never said the Mike and Jess thing was "drama." I just covered the topic of "drama" in that entry. The Mike and Jess thing was just a bad, vague situation that I feel partially responsible for.
I'm glad Sean read my blog, I enjoy getting new converts to the Richetarian Cult.
Now, about the bench press thing, I can press 260-280 pretty confidently, I don't know what I told you last time, Steve, but that's the right amount right there. The shingles are a problem because of many things, some of which Tony covered. First, their awkward. They come in packages maybe yard and a bit long, a foot and a halfdeep, and about three to four inches tall. The best way to carry them is over your shoulder. Thus I have purple lines which take a while to heal and scrapes on my shoulder. That I don't mind, as it looks like I finally fulfilled some of my S&M fantasies. They're difficult to pick up and even more difficult to carry up three stories on a steep ladder. Also, I don't care how strong you are, 80 lbs on your shoulder is oppresive. It make it hard to breathe and you feel like your ribs are grinding together. Now, a "square" of shingles, or the amount it takes to cover 100 square feet, is either 3 or 4 bundles, depending on type. I have to carry shingles for 15 square roofs by myself some days. That's a lot. So, there you have it.
I giggle not at your "weakness," Tones. First off, a 110 lbs press isn't "weak," it's decent for someone your age, height, and weight. I doubt many kids in our class could do too much more than that. Secondly, there are different kinds of strength and in many ways you're one of the strongest people I know. So be cool and put the cards away . . . I don't want to end up like Douregard's evil twin . . . .
By
Richard Joseph, at 12:04 AM
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