Quote of the Day 5-Year Anniversary!!!

Quote of the Day 5-Year Anniversary!!!

(If I caught you by surprise, my plan worked!)


DO NOT BEGIN READING THIS IF YOU NEED TO BE ANYWHERE TODAY OR TOMORROW! Two years ago, Misti “accidentally” skipped a class to read the anniversary edition. And this one will probably be longer. It took me, my secretary, and 3 research assisstants 4 months to get this together. And God knows the kittens were no help. Oh yeah, we had 5 kittens for a few months. It’s been a while. So anyway, go do what you need to do and come back when you have more time. It’ll still be here waiting for you. And you might want to order a pizza and a six pack too. Or at least a brachwurst and some Five Alive.

Five years. Five whole freakin years. That’s half of a freakin decade. Think about it. Where were you 5 years ago? It’s more than likely for most of you, it’s not where you are now. That just so happens to be the case for me, but probably not most of you. Five years, and four months ago, I started doing this thing I then called the “Quote Of the Day” and it went out to 23 people. I had just learned how to operate a computer months earlier. I didn’t even know what a double-click was until I got to college. I could check my e-mail and play solitaire. So I used that first ability to bring a few of you the quote of the day:


Subject: quote of the day 3/3

>From now on, I’m going to try to have a quote of the day. If it gets annoying, tell me.

March 3, 1995

“If I ever understand Beck, I’ll kill myself.”
-John Sears (Tonto Sleepyhead)


And that was it five years ago. It was so plain and unassuming back then. I figured it might last until the end of the semester when I went back home for the summer. I didn’t figure that I would still be sending it to 146 “subscribers” five whole freakin years later. Especially not now that I can play Worms online and download porn on my T1 line at 350 Kb/sec. I got sick of solitaire pretty fast. Seriously, that’s not too bad for a self-employed, non-government, non-paying occupation with no real advertisement. And the quote has grown a ton since then. Sometimes it’s just barely a quote at all. It’s mostly just a vessel for me to bitch and complain about my dating life, my car, and my latest sporting ventures and the subsequent injuries I sustained from all three of those areas. Sometimes I find myself writing a rough draft for the quote of the day. I never, NEVER wrote a rough draft for a college paper. In fact, I don’t think I ever wrote a college paper. But you get the point. Sometimes it seems like the quote doesn’t even belong. But it is, however seemingly unimportant at times, the driving force behind the “quote of the day.” Without it, the world may still be without such ideas as “Sculptionary” and stickless masking tape (paper). Sedge may have never found out that Michigan was in New Jersey over the summer, Russ might still be sliding like a bear scratches his ass on the ground, and
thumbless chickens might not be running around Pizzeria Unos screaming, unable to use tools.

The quote has also been an arena for confessions of some odd sexual tendencies over the past 5 years. Superdave admitted that he had only one ball, and Drew confessed his bisexual tendecies toward both women and lesbians. John refuses to fuck the fat guy, Bijou found new things he could do with his penis, and Geoff likes his women like he likes his cheese, white American. We found out how the name “Sprouting Weasel” came up, we learned the difference between babysitters and prostitutes, and we found out exactly how much Proz wants Nipples, which is probably why he’s into those multiplayer games. And girls with short hair are sexy. It’s like you’re having sex with like… a little boy. But too many cooks, do indeed spoil the brothel.

Much of the quote, whether I like it or not, has centered around my private parts also. Addie told everyone I have a small head, Laura thinks she can go out with two guys because she has two hands, Misti had to tell everybody around that she was going to whack off my Timmy, and apparently I was only just a wiener to Suzanne. I couldn’t get that waitress to hold my thingy, but I got a New Jersey cop to frisk my middle hitter. But I should get going now. Flynn comes home everyday around this time, and I need to go fuck a pie.

Some startling discoveries have also been made via the quote of the day. Apparently, socks have sex in France and some girls are pretty, but you just have to look at them for a while. Mike’s midnight is actually just a darker noon, but his late brunch is actually more like a…well, lunch. But at least it doesn’t change him 4 to take a shirt, like it does for Good “thou shalt not understandeth Old English” Joe. Not even banks laugh at Chevy Chase, and computer chess games cheat by coming up with the best possible move before they go, which is why Mike and Tony will only play in those fantasy leagues. But there are a lot of flaws in Tony’s problem. First off, he goes out to bars and asks girls to knit, and I’ll bet he’s still not sure what he’s not sure what he did last New Years Eve. But at least he’s going to be himself instead of going to BU. That was pretty bad Tony. You should learn to think before you think like Billy does. And if a girl starts to shun you for absolutely no reason, it’s because she’s all of a sudden acting like a typical woman, but if she’s nice to you, it’s probably because she’s plotting. And even when you think you’re finally on a date, you could only just be “hanging out.” And the main reason Mike doesn’t have a girlfriend is because he doesn’t ask. But don’t whine to Andrew about it, he doesn’t want to hear your Saab story.

Occasionally, I also try to make the quote informative, in case anyone out there wants to use me as a reference in a thesis. Good Joe could show you how to fix a blinking light on a car with just a small piece of electric tape, and we learned that the head gasket is the one in charge of all the other worker gaskets. I’ve tried to go over the proper table manners at a fancy dinner by telling you exactly which fork with which you are supposed to stab your waiter. And I’ve tried to spread good grammar around the world only to find out that 15 yr. olds and Evil Joe just don’t give a shit. At. John and I have taught you guys how to get cold air into a room with a broken air conditioner in the middle of winter, even though my dad can’t make air. I could show you how to make a pair of socks out of a pair of larger socks, and Billy could show you how to make a drawstring out of them (he’s the smarter one). It’s also OK to eat ugly people, because I mean, hey… we eat cows. I’ve also gotten some important counseling over the quote (also known as the not-not-quote). I worry too much. Life’s not that important. Especially mine. And one day, when Mikey has a few weeks, he’ll tell me. But I should get going, I only have 7 hours and 55 minutes left on this calling card.

So who’s gonna win the QOTD MVP this year? The Quote of The Day MVP award goes to the person that best helped fuel my fire by giving me material I thought the general public, or at least most of you yahoos out there, would laugh at (I’ve also given up my quest for prepositional perfection). So which person out there had the wit to say the right thing at the right time (or the wrong thing at any time)? Who out there has gotten the English language down to an art form and uses the entirety of the world around them as their pallete (or who drops the paint bucket on their shoe most often)? John Sears, a ghost of quote past, had won the title easily the first two years for his clever retorts usually poking fun at himself, the art department, you guys, or me. Laura and Billy put up quite a fight, but their verbal blunders couldn’t quite match John’s mastery of degrading euphemisms quote for quote. Two years ago, with John having graduated, the field was wide open, and Good White Tiny Tony stepped in to try to fill John’s shoes by sticking his foot in his mouth enough. Last year, Mike was able to clinch the title by driving through Kansas and several other very flat, boring states, where the only thing there was to do was think of funny stuff to say and write it down. But what about this year? Was Tony’s combined wit and the fact that he moved into an apartment with me and lives right next door 24/7 enough to pull him ahead of… well… wanna know who came in second? I couldn’t even make it look close. Tony blew away everybody else in the field with him and broke Mike’s year old record of 12 by 4 (which makes 16). His quotes spanned a lot of material, ranging from cocky meteorologists to pop quizzing my bowling class on directions to the alley. Congratulations Tony. My dad wanted you to know he wishes you were his son. Second place went to, surprisingly enough, Good Joe with 10. I see this guy maybe a total of 2 weeks out of the year now. And sure, those two weeks are very Good Joe intensive, but it’s still only two weeks. And I didn’t even drive across the country with him. Unless New Jersey counts. Mike slipped a little this year by falling to third with 9, but he’s really only funny in that I hope I don’t sneeze sorta way. Fourth place goes to Mr. Geoff’s 6 sourly sarcastic, well placed joke grenades, fifth to Drew’s 5 botched attempts to speak coherently, and sixth to Clint, Flynn, Stryker, and my dad with 4 apiece and 4 completely different methods of attack. Actually, they’re not really all that different. Which is really kinda scary.

Usually, the quote of the day comes from everyday life in the intramural circuit, the dodge ball battlefield, the volleyball court, or somewhere in a Safe Kids van lost in DC. But one of the things I like about the quote (mainly because it makes my job easier), is that the quotes can come from anywhere. I have quoted 4 of my old professors and 9 of my own family members in addition to 3 friend’s mothers. I have quoted Billy Joel, Vice Admiral Hyman Rickover, and Bill Walton. I took a quote straight out of a UMBC campus announcement and another one straight out of one of my art texbooks. But one of the funniest quotes I ever did set my ears on came only a month after the quote’s conception, back in April of 1995. It was debuted as the quote of the month / year/ decade back then, and though I pummel it into the ground every year about this time, it’s still one of my favorites:


Quote Of the Year 1995-96

The Set-Up…

“Love is like hearts. You want to follow suit, but you don’t want to have the lead.”

The Quote…

“If love is like hearts, than sex is like spades. If you don’t have a good partner, you damn well better have a good hand.”


The best quote from 3 years ago was a tough one to pick because nothing really jumped out at me like that one, but any quote that pokes fun at me so well, I can’t defend myself with a comment gets my vote…


Quote Of the Year 1996-97

So this past weekend, we were all hanging out in John’s room (the 5 of us who stayed this weekend), and John was reading a quote of the day,
when he turned around and said to me…

Quote Of the Day 4/8

“How can you still be standing right there? You’ve been standing there for like two years. Take a walk! Sit down! Go out!…”
-My roommate that’s not really my roommate


The 1997-98 quote of the year actually got the honor by being the only one nominated. I never had a quote nominated for quote of the year before, so I figured this was going to be an easy decision. Steve “Baritone” Zebrowski liked this quote so much, he e-mailed me for about the first time in over a year and asked if I was accepting votes for quote of the year, if there was such a thing. Well, Steve, thanks to you, there is such a thing now. Good idea too! And here it is…


Quote Of the Year 1997-98

“I would be filled with so much information, it would be a sin to let me die.”
My father, the hero…



Last year’s quote of the year honor struck a chord relatively close to home for me. Mostly because it was back home where the quote came from and it was about the trip Mike and I were about to take across the country. My panel of judges (Tony, with Misti in the back seat agreeing to whatever he said) carefully weighed all of the nominees and came up with this…


Quote Of the Year 1998-99

Well, this brings us to our quote. Mike has a pretty crappy car too, and we were talking about whether or not we could drive to Las Vegas. Anyway, he told me that he’d have to find out if it was downhill first.

Quote of the Day 6/9/98

“Most people look at road maps before they take a trip. I look at elevation charts.”


Congrats again, Mike. I’d give you a tote bag, but you already have a bag full of bags, just nothing to carry them in. Kevin would be proud of you. You should go to the bathroom and give him a call.

This year was the first time I actually had a panel of judges. I took the funniest 13 quotes I could find and sent them to a randomly selected (I fixed it) group of panelists to vote on which they thought were the funniest quotes in the last year. All of them were funny, and I must say that I was slightly dissappointed just because my favorite one didn’t win:


Dustin’s Favorite Quote 1999-2000

This quote comes from a little post-Sugar Ray get together I was in attendance at in the apartment of a few people I’d wager to say most of you don’t know. It was a hell of a time though, I’ll tell you that! One of the best parties I’ve ever been at. Any party that has Stryker, Harris, and me playing the same drinking game is bound to have an unfair advantage though. Especially when there are several young attractive ladies shouting “Lick me, lick me, Zoomie Zoomie” at me. Anyway, Michelle Christiansen was there. She doesn’t drink and won’t cuss either (thus declaring her exempt from the game we were playing two-fold), but she likes to try to fit in anyway. So whenever I would screw up, she’d be off in the distance somewhere shouting at me to drink more. So with this, I turned to Stryker and asked him who the hell she thought she was, to which he replied…

Quote Of the Day 4/27/99

“She’s the designated drink designator.”
-Strike me, Strike me.


This year’s runner up is also a fan favorite. He ran away with the quote MVP this year, it’s only fitting that he gets his foot in the door with the silver medal in the quote of the year contest.


Runner Up Quote Of the Year 1999-2000

Anyway, I was walking with Tony, my roomie, and I took notice of his sneakers. They were new and really funky looking. Like the design went all over the shoe, appeared to leave the actual shoe, and come back on the other one unscathed. While he walked and everything. Anyway, I told him that his shoes looked new… and complicated…

Quote Of the Day 10/21/99

“Not really. They still use laces. There’s no password or anything.”


Would Tony be able to walk away with the first democratically chosen Quote Of the Year to complete his season’s triple crown? Or would Mike repeat, being the first ever to get two Quote Of the Year honors? Or would it be Good Joe stealing his first little bit of spotlight in the QOTD circuit? Well, this quote is kinda almost all three of them in tandem, but in this case, tandem doesn’t mean they all jump out of a plane attached to one another. The reason this quote is so great is because it involves all three of them directly or indirectly, and it’s about my massive tool:


Quote Of the Year 1999-2000

I don’t know if you know the principals behind AOL Instant Messenger, but if you type a message to me, the entire sentence pops up on my screen when you hit enter, and vice versa. So many times, when both parties are typing at the same time, the messages will pop up one right after the other, before the parties have a chance to read what the other had written first. Well, you get the point. I hope. Here’s what happened in a conversation between Good Joe and Tony the day it snowed a lot and Joe was supposed to come down to MD for the night:

Quote Of the Day 1/21/00

WhiteTony: Smart move by not coming down here today.
GoodJoe4U: Thanks.
GoodJoe4U: I think Dustin has a small penis.
WhiteTony: They changed the forecast to as much as 14-20 inches.
GoodJoe4U: Laughing…too hard…can’t…type…


So there you have it. The quote of 1999-2000 was about my huge penis. And I didn’t even have to fix the ballots. It was funny enough to everyone as it was! hey, wait a minute… It’s tough to give the trophy to anyone in particular, because it was set up so well by both parties. That, and because it was complete luck that got the two phrases together. But the punchline is Tony’s which gives him the triple crown in the quote of the year contest for this year. And I just signed a lease that says I’m going to live with him for another complete year. Which is going to make things that much tougher on everybody else. Except Russ, who is also moving in. I’m now choosing roommates based on what will make finding a quote everyday that much easier. Can you get more shallow? Anyway, congrats Tony. Now stop being such a quote bully.


The year before last was a relatively bland one in quote land. The most exciting thing I did was the little trip to Russ’ world I took you all to. At. Of course, there was that time that Joe left his room with his account still logged in. So being the self-proclaimed prankster that I am, I decided it would be funny if I sent a message out to the entire QOTD list from his account telling everybody that he was gay. That’ll teach him. But this past year, I’d say was kinda exciting. There was the introduction of the traffic circle prank, the rating of not just movies anymore, but random things around the universe, including my nicknames and ways to get money illegally. But I think the most fun I had was writing my not-so-sonnet after a night I decided to try to keep up with Coors Light people in a drinking game with a 50/50 screwdriver made with Vlade’s Cheap-As-Sin Vodka (I didn’t know any better). It ruined a 13-year non-puking streak I had going since the 6th grade. Sorry ma. Now that I’m mature and out of college, I’m an alcoholic. But at least I’m a talented one…


Ode To the New Stain On Your Rug
-a not-so-sonnet by Dustin Fisher

I puked on your rug. That’s right. I’ll admit it.
And I’m almost actually glad that I did it.
It taught me a lesson to which all should adhere
About the difference between bad vodka and beer.

Beer can be drank with reckless abandon.
Bad vodka will seldom leave a skinny boy standin’.
Go look in the cabinet. I hadly drank any.
I’m a wus and I know it, but I left you guys plenty.

Though I’m mostly to blame and I will take the fall,
Those drinking “games” likely did not help at all.
You guys wouldn’t let up, not one little bit.
You’re all little vindictive pieces of shit.
Tell Justin and Kristen and Angie that too.
And that one chick Amanda that I hardly knew.

That’s another bad thing about drinking too much.
It’s harder to pick up on women and such.
I’ll never get laid with my puke on the ground.
Thank God they’ve all already once turned me down.

Well, I should get going, I’ve got stuff to do.
And I’m hungover and possibly still drunk too.
But please heed these words from a corn puke survivor,
I’m going back to beer, man. Fuck the screwdriver!


Well, that was a very concise history of the quote of the day. So this is the part where I want to do something cool. I’ve taken a virtual sampler of all the different intros I’ve done over the past five years and piled all of my favorite ones onto one plate, baked at 350 for 25 minutes, and let sit for 4 months. So grab another six pack or Five Alive. Or maybe a Strawberry Fribble this time. And put on a bib and dig in!


On an artists’ work habits… 2/19/96

Sorry these are so late, but I’ve been busy doing work lately. Well, it’s kinda like work. I dress John up in funny clothes and stick cameras in dryers and call it work. But at any rate, I’ve been busy doing it.

On jobs that are just too easy… 1/3/00

At any rate, I started teaching bowling Monday. What a tough job, let me tell you. The first day, we went over how to keep score and how to get there. Nobody asked me any questions about fatty amino acids that I didn’t know the answers to, and a couple of the guys had a beer or two during the 3 hour bowling outing. Now this is my kind of class! Next class we’re going to discuss lane courtesy and what to do when you spill your drink at the console. The kids can’t wait.

On my favorite hat… 11/5/97

This quote is about the ugliness of one of my hats (as opposed tomy shirt). I have this hat that I don’t wear too often, unless I know for sure that I’m not going to run into anyone I need to impress for that period of time. It’s not even really pink. It’s got pink in it, along with yellow and brown and black. And it’s a weird fabric, especially for a hat. It feels like a curtain. And the colors are in a really ugly pattern. It’s almost random really. And in a bad way. And it’s even shaped funky. I have to wear it backwards or else I won’t be able to see. And then I can’t look up. The only reason I keep it is that it matches everything I own.

On cutting my own hair… 10/4/99

Well, if I ever tell any of you on this list that I’m going to try to cut my own hair, just simply say to me “Wait, Dustin. You remember what happened last time, don’t you?” Last Tuesday, I decided to forego the expensive of having an actual barber cut my hair and do it myself. I think by the time I got it down to within 1/2 an inch of complete baldness, it was finally even. I think if I decide to forego the cost of a professional again, I’m going to at least try to see if I can find somebody who’s done it before to do it. Or at least somebody moderately artistic or female. Hell, if you’re hands aren’t shaking uncontrollably and you can see the back of my head, you’ll do a better job than I did.

On Day Camp… 6/16/98

Well, things at Concentration Camp Wonderfun just aren’t the same as they were last year. The kids whine when you hit them, counselors get pissed when you through their clothes in the pool, and there are just a lot fewer naked 4-year-olds running out of the changing area with snorkel masks and flippers on. But there are still feces on the wall, and if you catch the kid’s legs just right with the dodge ball, they fly out from under them and they land on their back or stomach. That just makes the whole day worthwhile.

On learning new words… 7/25/98

Actually, when I first found out what “facetious” meant, I had also just learned what the word “feces” meant. And so when somebody told me I was being facetious, I thought they were telling me I was full of shit. Which is basically what it means anyway.

On lying to the public… 12/2/99

And another thing, I guess I should bring it up now to prepare you for it, but do you all realize that the “new millenium” doesn’t start until Jan 1, 2001? We’re not there yet. We still have another year to go. And I’ve heard no one publicly address this issue. Of course, I don’t really watch too much news outside of SportsCenter. But anyway, I can’t imagine that the entirety of the advertising world has overlooked this, so I have another theory. I think they are all preying upon our stupidity as a general mass of plebians for their own positive gain. And then, when the year 2000 actually hits, they’re all gonna jump out and go “Just kidding!” And then they’re going to run the same campaign as “the [whatver product] of the actual new millenium.” And they are going to say, hey remember how much fun you had last year when you thought it was the end of a millinium and the beginning of a new one? Well, we can all do it again next year! And plebians love to party, so they’ll probably all just overlook the facts if they really do know them, and party like it’s 1999 twice. Sounds great in theory, but I’m smarter than that. I’m only partying like its 1999 once. And that’s going to be next year. I’ll show them.

On Concentration Camp Wonderfun games… 7/31/98

…But they don’t call me Mr. Cantaloupe for nothing, let me tell you…

By the way, they call me Mr. Cantaloupe now. It stemmed (no pun intended) from a game called, appropriately enough, “Fruit” in which dexterity meets wit, and if that isn’t enough, the loser gets clocked with a wacky noodle. That’s my favorite part.

On frats… 9/26/96

Well, it seems I’ve struck a nerve with that frat and girl frat thing. First of all, I’d like to tell the three of you that responded to me privately, that I know a “girl frat” is really called a sorority. And one more thing, I am just poking fun at the system. No need to start any
frat/anti-frat wars. I know you don’t literally “buy your friends.” It’s more like renting them for four years. And I’ve never really had to have people vote on whether or not they wanted me to hang out with them either. Though maybe we should start doing that. I’ve also never been a boy scout, though most of the people I know who were, have since grown out of it. And paying money to go towards the national chapter fee is equivalent to paying money to be called a ZBT and so on. And we all know what goes on at those “socials” that the frats throw. Ask Barnes. But like I said, I’m only kidding here. I don’t condone or condemn farts or sobrieties. I just make fun of everyone. I’m an equal opportunity offender.

On uncurable illnesses… 8/12/99

Well, I finally got a chance to get to the nurse last week. According to all her specialized equipment, a throat culture, and an anal probe (which I’m still questioning the necessity of), I have been diagnosed with a possible sore throat. I’ve already called the mortician.

On keeping a camp diary… 6/15/99

1999 Summer Day Camp, Day 2:
Dear Diary, it’s only the second day of camp, and I’ve already witnessed a boy get hit in the eye with a tennis ball, the same boy have an asthma attack later that day, and an unnamed bastard counselor named Stryker bounce a kid into the pool off of the slippery wet pool deck and grate. And despite the 11 year old girls’ endless attempts, they can’t hook me up with any of the female counselors. Or tear my arms from my body. And if Gary asks me to tuck my shirt in again, I’m going to tuck it up his ass. If I’m not running from 25 kids in a spirited game of “Get Mr. Dustin,” I’m busy being a host to these parasitic leech children, usually with one of them around each foot like two anchors making sure I can’t drift too far out to shore, what with all the high tides I experience and everything. And these kids are the only ones who keep my sanity. Unfortunately, they also keep my whistle. And my extra shorts. And the keys to my car. I dread the day I go into work tired and cranky and give the first unfortunate soul who tries to jump on my back a bloody lip out of frustration. But as of yet, they don’t know about my bad temper. Or my criminal record. Or the box of razor blades I keep in my top desk drawer. I must go now Diary, it’s almost time for lunch. And I almost forgot about Billy. It’s probably about time to uncuff him. I’ll write again tomorrow. I love you.

On December at UMBC… 12/1/95

Anyway, it’s December finally. Which in Maryland, apparently means that temperatures will rise into the upper 60s with a beautiful breeze reminding everyone of early Spring. It also means that Christmas is soon approaching and with the coming of Christmas, also comes the stress of finals. Everybody is too busy worrying about their future to be able to get into the Christmas spirit. It is quite an unfortunate principal of college. They should really try to schedule around such holidays. But I refuse to let it bog me down. I will be in the Christmas spirit because I have admitted defeat. The future holds no fame and fortune for me and academics have never been my thing. So I’ll be riding around on my invisible sled playing pink-hatted Santa Claus to everyone. Another unfortunate principal is that all college students are broke. So you will all be getting paper machey in your stocking from me. Hug somebody for Christmas. They’re cheap and very seldomly (though it does happen) refused. But stop at the hug or you may be getting a pretty little summons under your tree. All right, I’ve wasted enough of your precious e-mail time and my delirious awakeness is wearing off…

About the Quote Of the Day (long)… 8/10/99

I feel an explanation is in order to those of you who are new to the quote of the day and the whole Mr. Dustin experience in general. I consider the quote of the day a sort of humor column, and I’m its author. Now whether or not you feel I deserve to consider myself a humor columnist is up to you, but that’s how I see it. So like other humor columnists do (I imagine), I try to make the subject material funny, which involves a lot of catering to the crowd. Passive isn’t funny, active is. Cute isn’t funny, frustrated is. Forgiving isn’t funny, bitter is. Agreeable isn’t funny, opinionated is. Of course, you could make an argument that one of those four things is funny, but you’d be wrong. (I just incorporated all of the 4 other things into that one phrase, by the way.) And I embellish a lot of what I say because exaggeration is also funny. So is blatantly lying too. I don’t stalk women’s volleyball teams. Or redheads. Or 12-year-olds. Hell, I haven’t even seen Star Wars yet (kidding again). In some ways, I’m almost an actor playing the part of a guy who is a lot like me. That’s actually, confusingly enough, how I am in real life most of the time. Now please don’t take this to mean that I have to mask my tears with a comedic face or anything, I just like making people laugh. Just like Jim Carrey. I’m like the Cable Guy. Now most people know when I’m kidding and when I’m not by now, but I know some of you out there don’t. I was told by someone the other day that I “take comedy too seriously.” That I “sit down and actually consider the tone of something before I consider whether or not its funny.” Whereas this person would “just write something and see if its funny.” This person honestly meant it as a character flaw, but I took it as a compliment. A few years back, I wrote a “research paper” on the subject of comedy. Mike, Good Joe, Kevin and I used to joke that we critiqued humor and the styles and techniques of it so much that we should write a book (again, please keep to yourselves whether you think I’m qualified to write a book on the subject). So I actually started a while back, but as I am a generally unmotivated person, I didn’t follow through with the idea. But just recently, Mike figured out a good title for it…

“We’re so serious about comedy, it’s not funny.”

On my relationship with Good Joe… 6/18/98

Well, thankfully, one of my best friends happens to be a Car major at GMI Institute (which in its written out form, is General Motor’s Institute Institute). So I tell him all the problems I’m having with the car and he says some words I don’t understand and I nod my head and go “ooooh, ok,” and then we play tennis.

On writers block… 5/4/99

I have absolutely nothing to write about today. I just got done running around the loop, I’m alone in the office, I instinctively logged into my account, hit the “compose” feature and typed in the word “quote” which brings up the addresses of all you out there, and sat in front of this screen listening to my country MP3s for ten minutes, half thinking of something to say, and half staring catatonically at my own hand resting on the keyboard that hasn’t yet started typing for me by itself. (That was a long sentence.) I didn’t really do anything of any interest today. I lost a volleyball game, reffed 2 close-ass softball games, and watched Stryker and Derrick both play different versions of solitaire on two different computers. And you know what? I reminded me of the days when I used to play solitaire with actual cards, which I don’t think I could do anymore. It would take too damn long to set the cards up and the piles get all messy and sometimes I can’t pick them up off the carpet easily and stuff. I’m spoiled, made soft and listless by Freecell and other computer solitaire games which shuffle, deal, and tell you when you’ve completely blown it. I think it says something about our society that we’ve managed to make killing time incredibly efficient, allowing us to kill an hour of spare time in only fifteen minutes…

On my relationship with my parents… 9/6/99

Today is a very important day in Dustin history for two reasons. For one, it’s my parent’s anniversary, which was a very important step in my conception. Secondly, it’s my dad’s birthday, a hands-down much more imporant step in my conception. Happy birthday, dad. He turned 33 for the 18th year in a row. To help him celebrate, I decided to take the weekend off, drive back up to Pennsylvania, and play tennis with Joe.

On application of Mineral Ice… 9/30/96

I found out something that you shouldn’t do and I thought I’d let you all in on it before you make this mistake. Never rub Mineral Ice or Ben-Gay on your shoulder and then rub your eye before washing your hand. That just stings a lot. It feels like the equivalent of using a Hall’s menthol cough drop that’s been half sucked for a contact lens. Basically, just don’t do it.

On phys ed finals… 1/18/00

PHED 154 Winter y2k Duck Pin Bowling Final

1) What days do we have class?
A) Mondays and Wednesdays
B) Tuesdays and Thursdays
C) January
D) I have not attended class enough to judge
E) All of the above

2) You get off the beltway onto which road?
A) Route 40
B) Security Blvd.
C) Peakaboo Street
D) The Road Not Taken
E) All of the above

3) Which movie is about bowling?
A) King Pin
B) Not Without My Daughter
C) Saving Private Ryan
D) Frankenhooker
E) All of the above

4) My name is
A) Dustin
B) Mr. Whistlehead
C) Screaming Cricket
D) Extendo
E) All of the above

Turn your papers into me when you are finished. Highest score gets a free beer on me. Good luck!

On Valentines Day… 2/16/98

I don’t knock Valentine’s Day as a national holiday, but I have to question a few things about it. Does anybody else find it disturbing that those little candy hearts that used to say stuff like “Be mine” and “You’re cool” now say things like “You suck,” “Fuck off,” and “Stop following me around, you pink hatted bastard!”?… And why are they all of a sudden written in pen too?

On summer in Maryland… 9/7/99

Here’s what Maryland weather thinks is funny to us. It doesn’t rain for three very hot long months of summer, sending Maryland into a drought warning with serious water restrictions for over a month. Then it decides that it’s had fun long enough and it lets loose like a guy who’s been holding in a piss through an entire opera. A 3-month-long opera. Last Thursday, the drought warning was lifted. Last Friday, there was a flood warning. Does this seem like a contradiction on some level to anybody else out there? Just checking…

On Billy hitting a jet ski with a boat… 9/16/96

Good news and bad news: Good news – No one got hurt. Bad news – Billy was one of the people who didn’t get hurt.

About American Beauty… 10/8/99

This film will probably gross you out in parts and turn you on in others. And you’ll be uncomfortable either way. But you’ll laugh. Sometimes. And you’ll squirm too. I doubted you’ll squint and go “Whatcha talking about, Willis?”, but I don’t know how you’ll all react.

On daylight savings time… 4/8/96

Hey everybody. I hope all your weekends were fun and Eastery. And if you haven’t yet, remember to set your clocks ahead. But don’t do it when you’re tired or this will happen: I put my laundry in the dryer yesterday at around 3:30 and on my way up, I stopped in John’s room for a while and he reminded me to set the clock ahead. So I went back to my room and set my clock ahead an hour, and proceeded to clean up the room a bit (I know it doesn’t look it, Billy, but I did). Anyway, I looked at the clock and it read 5:00, and I remembered that I had put my laundry in at 3:30. So I went down to get it out of the dryer…

It wasn’t done yet. (BTW, I exaggerate a lot, but this actually happened.)

On losing a saved document… 4/11/99

That reminds me of a funny story from years back. I was typing a 15 page paper my freshman year and I had gotten to about 11 pages at 4 in the morning. I was becomming tired, cranky, and very sick of this paper. So I took the mouse, highlighted the entire document, and started playing with the margins, the fonts, the font sizes, the line spacing, and whatever I could think of to make an 11 page paper into a 15 page paper. Well, I don’t know if it was an attack of morality or a bowl of Smack Ramen noodles, but I got a second wind. I decided to try to sit down and finish the paper legitimately. So I wanted things to go back to the way they were. In my delirious awakeness, I somehow thought that the backspace key would do that. (Keep in mind again that the entire document is currently highlighted.) So the entire document disappeared. I reached out to grab it as it dissapeared, like I was going to pull it back out of the monitor like Coach did in Poltergeist. Only with a kid, not a UNIX document. Hey, no problem, right? There’s an undo function in Word Perfect, even in the 3.1 version (this was back in 93). Anybody know what the keyboard command was for undo? Well, it was also [ctrl]-x. I’m a keyboard kind of guy, I don’t need to use the mouse to go all the way up there and hit “Edit” and go to “Undo.” So I went to undo it and accidentally hit the key right above the x (Look down)… Anybody know what [ctrl]-s is on WP for 3.1? It’s save, just like it is on every other word processing program ever. So, in case you’ve gotten lost in the last paragraph, I’ve now saved a blank document overtop of an 11 page paper trying to masquerade as a 15 page paper. There is absolutely nothing I can do from here, trust me. Game Over!! Dustin Loses!! On top of having just lost my entire paper, I was out $250 to replace Doug’s monitor. My knuckles healed on their own.

On getting old… 11/3/97

I don’t know if you guys are taking me seriously with this whole me being old thing, but my knees don’t do things that they used to. Of course, when they did the things that they used to, they never really did the things that they were supposed to, and I think I’m paying the price now. But I don’t know. Because had they not done the things they weren’t supposed to, they might not be able to do the things that they used to now anyway. Or maybe it would just hurt a lot more. Who knows?

On growing up… 1/11/00

Well that having been said, I would like to go back to the quote I sent out back toward Christmas about how I’m getting old because I got a blender and a humidifier for Christmas. Well, I jokingly asked for jumper cables and a 2 pint sauce pan for my birthday. Good Joe got me jumper cables, an ice scraper, a headlight (which makes two I have in boxes, unable to put them in because I still don’t have a star ratchet), and a ratchet set including a star ratchet with which to install said headlight and its older brother (good thinking on his part), and it was the best gift I got this year. So I’m old. Or mature. Or probably just grown up, which is somewhere inbetween. But not really. I still shower with my bathing suit on.

On receiving a television from my best friends… 2/13/98

You guys are AWESOME!!! That was the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me in my entire life. If I could take all of you and fit you into one gorgeous woman, I’d give you a BIG sloppy kiss and have my way with you several times on the plywood scaffolding (that’s a compliment). I mean, if I could take all of your limbs individually and separate them from your body, and melt them down into one tiny little gummi worm, I’d eat it slow as I possibly could just so I could savor the taste (I’m not sure what that was).

On Russ’ slide… 4/30/99

…Anyway, there were about 8 people all around yelling at him to slide. He does. But not really. He doesn’t really stick one leg out and fold the other one underneath him like you’re traditionally supposed to. Instead, he sort of timidly leaps both feet outward and in the air sticking in front of him and catches himself with his hands and sort of shimmies along until he finally gets to home plate. This looked like how most kids go on a slip and slide, but he did it on hard dirt. That’s the best way I can describe this so-called-slide.

On strange mathematical principals… 4/10/96

Hello today troops. Just to let you all know, I’ve been sick for a little while but I’m getting over it. Though this damn weather is not helping any. Gotta love that Indian winter. April + Maryland = Snow. I’d appreciate it if some math major could explain that to me sometime.

(Well, ask and ye shall receive…)

On 4/11/96, Dsentarius wrote:

Claim: April + Maryland = Snow

Assume negation:
April + Maryland >or<> Snow
=> We’d rather live in Maryland in April than have snow
We’ve reached contradiction because none of us want to live here anyway.
QED, April + Maryland cannot be > Snow

Case 2: April + Maryland < snow =""> April < maryland =""> April is what is leftover when it doesn’t snow in Maryland
We have reached contradiction again because there are many crappy things in Maryland besides April.
Take Dundalk, for example:
Dundalk exists whether it snows or not (and whether we want it to or not)
Ergo, April + Maryland cannot be <> or < snow =""> April + Maryland = Snow

Proof Complete.

-(Thank you once again, Chris.)


More on lying to the public… 1/1/00

Well, it certainly appears as though we survived y2k with only a few minor scratches. For example, if you checked UMBC’s Athletics webpage yesterday in Netscape, it would have said “Jan 03, 19100.” But there was no major power outage, no idiots strapping themselves to bombs and walking into Central Park or DC, and frankly, I was a little disappointed. Apparently, they closed the tunnels in and out of New York and went so far as to wire the sewer lids shut to avoid such an incident. Seattle even cancelled their planned New Years Eve shindig to avoid terrorist affairs. I agreed with them at the time, but now that nothing happened, I think Seattle is a big wus city. I guess all the smart terrorists will be out next year, at the end of the real millenium, when the ill-equippied, short-sighted public who all decided sometime last year that the fact that we get to write a 2 as the first digit of the year on our checks now was a good enough reason to ignore certain historic data will just treat it as any other minimum security New Years Eve… It’s just me and Al Franken left, isn’t it?

On the problem with ski lifts… 1/21/99

I was on one of the ski lifts with Teresa (Little Boy Hair Girl) and it suddenly stopped. Apparently that isn’t too uncommon. Whenever somebody fucks up getting on the lift, they have to stop it for a while, to avoid further deaths. Damn rookies. If you can’t get on the lift, you don’t deserve to have the benefit of a ride back up the hill. Just carry your skis and start hiking. Actually, those lifts are scary. I could picture somebody getting stuck trying to get on one. I mean, you’re standing there and the gate opens a split second after the people in front of you get on, and you can see the seat you need to get on coming down the other side, and you have to make it out onto the loading deck with those big bulky skis on with another person beside you in like 3 seconds, or you’re going to get blindsided by the side of it when it comes swinging around the turn. I could see somebody starting to trip and panicking and trying to jump out there anyway, and falling off the deck, but still trying to reach for the passing lift to both save a little embarrassment and to preserve his place in line and his right to not have to walk back up the big hill.

On Mr. Ripley (a female perspective)… 1/10/00

Well, there was an overwhelming unusually large response to the last movie review about The Gay Mr. Ripley. Apparently, my female audience didn’t find the frontal male nudity as offensive as Joe and I did. In fact, some used the words “sexy” and “enjoyed” and “what a package” with respect to the bathtub scene with Jude Law. Thankfully, I didn’t see any of this nonsense. It was my turn to hide my eyes and Joe’s turn to tell me when it was over.

On Appalachian State University… 10/7/96

Anyway, I was talking to Kevin, my friend from home who goes to school at Appalachian State University. And if you don’t know where that is, it’s because it’s surrounded by trees for 8000 miles in each direction. It looks almost like they were flying an entire college campus from Boston to Miami and dropped it in a forest and figured ‘fuck it, we’ll get it later.

On catering to everybody… 12/25/99

Well, Merry Merry (fill in apropriate holiday) to all of you out there. I hope your (apropriate holiday) was just as (fun/God-worshipping/I didn’t drop a piece of ham on my blouse again (circle one)) as mine. I trust your family was just as (excited to see you/fun to be around/thank God Uncle Louie didn’t show up drunk again) as mine and that they got you (exactly everything you wanted/more stupid socks/the same CD they got you last year). I really enjoyed seeing my family, but I think my favorite part of my break was seeing friends that (I haven’t seen since high school/I never liked in the first place/aren’t getting as good grades or as much money as me/all of the above). At any rate, I need to go now, but I hope you had a happy (appropriate holiday) and I hope that y2k doesn’t (crash your PC/shut off your water supply/stop the rotational inertia of the earth).

On my April Fools Day history… 4/1/99

Hey everybody. April Fools Day came and went once again, and this year, I didn’t even get to do anything cool at all. This is the first year that yours truly, fun-loving somewhat mental prankster that I am, hasn’t done anything at all. I have here a summation of everything I’ve done in the past 24 years of my life:

4/1/75 Pretended I had poop in my diaper, but I really didn’t.
4/1/76 Loosened a few screws in the stairwell so my mom would fall through it to the basement.
4/1/77 Hid my newborn sister in he attic for 3 days.
4/1/78 Got my uncle to do calculus problems and convinced Miss Cherry I did them myself.
4/1/79 Convinced my dad that I got my girlfriend pregnant.
4/1/80 Threw a rock through my parent’s window with a note attatched
saying “we have your son” and hid for a week.
4/1/81 Wrecked the car and blamed it on Uncle Mark.
4/1/82 Filled our water bottle in the fridge with hydrocloric acid.
3/31/83 Tried to convince everybody it was April first.
4/1/84 Pretneded I had poop in my pants, but I really didn’t.
4/1/85 Made a toy Delorian and went back to 1955.
4/1/86 Unscrewed the lid of the saltshaker.
4/1/87 Freed 167 cows into the wild.
4/1/88 Left a note telling my parents I was moving to Reno with my bookie and hid in the car in a parking lot up the street for three days.
4/1/89 Shot my English teacher in the leg with a rifle.
4/1/90 Shoved some tissues in a bra and told everybody I had a sex change (that one went over surprisingly well).
4/1/91 Showed my dad fake pictures of my mom cheating on him.
4/1/92 Put glue on everybody’s seat in French class and set fire to the room.
4/1/93 Got David Copperfield to make our entire high school disappear.
4/2/94 Got him to make it appear again.
4/1/95 Drugged my roommate, stripped him naked, borrowed my friend’s hamster, took some pictures, and put them on the internet.
4/1/96 Started dating Suzanne (guess the joke’s on me (just kidding Suz))
5/13/97 Duct taped Billy to the bed during the night (and boy did I catch him off guard!).
4/1/98 Disassembled all the parts of my suitemate’s car and reassembled them in his dorm room.
4/1/99 Threatened with not having anything to do, I kicked Russ in the nuts in his sleep.

On living with a kitten… 4/29/99

I don’t think I told you guys tihs as a big collective group yet, but we now have a kitten. My roommate’s girlfriend’s parents decided it was a good idea to burden me with wildlife at this point in my life. This thing is wild too! It’s traditionally really good about not clawing people’s skin, but if it tries to jump up on your leg and starts to fall, it’s no holds barred. Every cat for themselves. It’s fallen from the height of my leg many times before, I don’t know what it’s scared of. Hell, I’ve thrown it at least 10 feet in the air across the room against the wall before and it didn’t even limp. Hell, it didn’t even move. And it did, even after impact, land on its feet. You know, they say that cats always land on their feet when they fall or when you throw them. Well, I figured out that so do dogs. And gerbils. And fish. It’s just that we see cats land on their feet more often because it is necessary to throw cats around, whereas dogs, gerbils, and fish will listen to you. All you have to do is hit the dog once and say “NO!!” real loud and he’ll get the idea from then on not to do whatever it was he did. He also learns what the word “no” means really fast. Not cats. He needs to jump on my lap to try to help eat my cereal, and he still does it every freakin day. And everyday, I punt him across the room into the wall. Damn thing doesn’t learn. I’ll bet modern psychology would turn 180 degrees if Pavlov had cats instead. People say dogs are dumb, but this kitten refuses to learn this stuff, despite it’s many flihts across the dining room against her will. And it comes right back for more. This dude has no fear. I don’t know why there are so many terms associated with cats being scared. Fraidy-cat… Scaredy-cat… Pussy.

On mass responding to the list (beating a dead horse)… damage control 99

Well, that brings an end to all that. I hope. Basically, I like the fact that I own the list and I use it for the explicit purpose of inspiring me to try to write comedy every day. Sure, all these people have to do is delete your message, which is generally what I do when I get chain mail or joke forwards when I don’t have time to read them. But these are lists that friends of mine have made that include me on them because they know I appreciate that sort of stuff (or I’m at least too nice to tell them I don’t :-)). I don’t like the exploitation of my list becuase you guys don’t have one of your own. Sort of like how I wouldn’t like you guys getting a hold of my addressbook and calling random people in it, telling them that you are a friend of mine, and trying to start a conversation that way. Solicited or unsolicited. Spam or a slightly more pure meat substitute. It just feels like you’re riding the coat tails of my popularity. Make your own list. Put me on it. Looking back over my list, I doubted even Tony could name half of the people I had on the list, and I know nobody else can come near that close. So please don’t abuse the priveledge that, as Mike pointed out to us, is available to everyone as a standard feature. If necessary, I will change to do that carbon copy thing, however it works, which probably isn’t hard. I was just hoping it wouldn’t be necessary. Well, I’m going to take a few days off of the quote again to let this thing simmer down (and to watch my new 440 stations of digital cable). Write me your thoughts please. Good or bad. I’m gonna go talk to my new stripper neighbors now.

On a rather apropos subject… 11/15/99

Well, I think I can sum up my general state of being after the last few weeks in two words… worn out. I’m always exhausted and I’m still never done what I want to get done in the day. It seems the more life goes on, the further behind I fall. At the pace I’m going, it’ll take me at least a few years to catch up to where I want to be now, and by then I’ll be 3 more years behind where I am now. And that’s if I don’t sleep. So I’ve decided to take action. I’ve decided on a few things. First of all, sleep is important. And the occasional nap between the middle lane of 95 and the rumble strip just isn’t enough rest for one day. Secondly, the amount of work I want to do exceeds by far the amount of hours I can set aside in the average day for that work. So I’ve taken the road of many people in my situation. I’ve decided after careful consideration to lower my standards. That autobiography can wait another millenium or so, and video collage of all of the Fourth Series Columbo episodes doesn’t seem all that important. Other things may also have to take a backseat, such as remembering birthdays and getting everybody different Christmas presents this year. See, the quote of the day falls unfortunately somewhere in the middle between reorganizing my t-shirts chronologically and showering, so there’s no telling when you’re actually going to get one. Kind of like a wart. But not that much like a wart. I hope. Anyway, you can pretty much bank on the fact that if you get a quote of the day, it means I had enough time, and if you don’t, I didn’t. That’s a pretty damn easy formula if you follow it correctly. I’m trying to make it as easy as possible for you. So please don’t call me late at night and ask if I’m going to do one. But I’m doing one now, so prepare yourself by doing whatever it is you do when you read these. I imagine it’s not as habitualistic or time consuming as what I go through when I write them.


There have recently been two huge directions my random bitching and complaining have been headed in the intros to the quote of the day. The biggest one has been the issues I’ve been having with my cars. The quote has seen a car window get stuck down and another one get broken. It saw me almost technically total my car, actually get four tickets, and then permanently total my car, try to get it towed away and purchase another just like it with remarkably more amusing stories which you will read about shortly, I’m sure. Anyway, these next few intros are going to all be car related for your organizational pleasure…

On problems with the car… 6/18/98

You know, I’ve finally figured out the secret to my car. It makes a lot of unnatural noises when you try to do certain things in it. Like accelerate. Well, the key to a smooth ride in my car, is to block out those sounds. I’ve found that turning the music up really loud helps a lot. And I’ve noticed that if you don’t look at the driver’s side mirror ever, you can hardly notice that it’s falling off. I’m trying to apply this skill to other areas in my life as well. I once read an article that said that taking an aspirin daily with a shot of bourbon reduces a person’s awareness of heart attacks. I wonder if this principle also works with dirty laundry. And student loans.

On rear wheel drive vehicles in the snow… 1/13/00

Well, it snowed. And mind you, I’ve never driven a rear wheel drive vehicle in the snow before, so I was in for a treat. Stryker told me it would be “fun.” I guess he’s talking about that kind of “fun” that accompanies looks of terror and moments of panic as the back end of the car begins creeping slowly and involuntarily toward the row of parked cars on the right everytime I try to make a left turn. They always tell you to turn into a skid, which makes no sense to me. That’s like telling a boxer to lean into a left hook. But it works. Temporarily. What happens is that you regain control of the vehicle, which is good. But you also happen to be under control going in a direction you don’t want to be going, possibly toward a group of parked cars on the right side of a road. Which is bad. I haven’t quite mastered the art of not hitting parked cars, but I’ll give you updates as I learn them. Actually, my snow tires are kick ass. They’re probably the coolest thing on there besides the Extendo licence plates. They look like they belong on a monster truck. They have thick treads and illegal metal studs and everything (if you’re a cop, substitute the word “emergency” for “illegal”). Anyway, get yourself a pair of those. I’m not so sure that they help, but they make your car look bigger and badder than it did before.

Pros and cons on getting one’s window stuck down… 11/9/98

I don’t know if I told you guys this, but sometime in late September, I was rolling down my window, and it got stuck about halfway down. Well, being the intelligent, auto-knowledgeable guy, I figured that all I had to do to solve the problem was press harder. That’s approximately when I heard the really loud metallic snapping noise. Then my window started to slowly sink down into the door. I grabbed it to try to stop it, then realized that I’d have to hold it open until somebody that knew more about cars than I did just happened to walk by. Seeing as how I doubted this was going to happen, I figured “ah, it’s nice out. I’ll just get it fixed sometime next week.”


November 9, 1998. It’s been about a month and a half since the window has been up, and it’s starting to really become a factor. I’m going to share a few of the pros and cons about having one’s car window stuck down 24/7:


The cold. This is the most obvious one, as I am constantly reminded every time I get in the damn thing. I have to actually wear extra heavy clothing to prepare to ride in my car. And I’ve started supplying blankets, parkas, and earmuffs for any unfortunate passengers. Sure their window goes up, but it doesn’t help that the entire other half of the car is exposed to the freezing cold Novemberness of the air. And that reminds me of another thing…

Dates: It’s one thing to tell one of my good friends to suck it up and bring a scarf and mittens or something, but it becomes a problem if I want to try to ask a pretty girl that I don’t know all too well. “Hey, baby. How bout we goze ridin in my big blue tank o looooove? Oh, and make sure to dress warmly, if ya know what I mean *wink*.” I’m having enough problems as it is, I don’t need a faulty crank to count against me (don’t even think what you’re thinking).

Rain: I’m reminded of this factor about three or four times every month. Not only do I not have a driver’s side windshield wiper, but I have an absentee window now too. And it’s still down there! I can hear it rattle every time I shut the door, or go over a bump, or shift. It’s in there teasing me, having a grand ole time. Anyway, rain sucks. I have to lean all the way over toward the middle of the car just to see, and then I’ve got to put a towel over my left side (a towel is now a standard feature in my car) to keep from getting drenched. I also try not to make right turns when not absolutely necessary. And parking is a key issue. If I park it in the wide open, I’ll come back and have to get out my reserve towel just to slightly slow down the migration of the water from the seat through my shorts, through my underwear, to my bare ass. My cold bare ass, I might care to add, also. So I park in a garage whenever possible (at Bennigans), and under trees, if a garage doesn’t happen to be around and the time. This, however, introduces a problem you might not think of off the top of your head…

Autumn: Autumn has one major characteristic that distinguishes it from most of the other seasons. This characteristic is actually how it got it’s nickname, “fall.” This characteristic is that leaves change color and fall off the trees that they had once thrived upon. I get in my car each morning with about half of a maple tree waiting for me. I’ve started collecting the leaves in hope to someday make my own tree in my trunk. I used to brush them outside, but the following morning, I realized just how little that helps the overall aesthetics of the car.

Safety: Thank goodness my car is a piece of shit to begin with. If it had any redeeming qualities at all, somebody would have definitely stolen it by now. And when most people leave their possessions in the passenger seat, or back seat of the car if they have them there, I take them out and throw them in the trunk. It’s a pain in the ass, but you kinda get used to it. I think the funniest thing is the accumulation of police safety warnings that I’ve been getting. After the first two weeks, I think they gave up.

Dirt: Well, since I have no window, I can’t really go through a car wash, can I? Well, I suppose it’s possible, but the implications of that kinda turn me off. And seeing as how the alternative to needing to reupholster the entire interior is just having a dirty f*cking car, I’ll live with the dirt. Actually, I’ve gotten in the habit of taking those windshield wiper things at gas stations and going over the entire exterior. It turns out that not only does this not work, but it is counterproductive to the cleanliness of the vehicle. I don’t know if any of you have tried to use Windex on cold metal before, but it streaks like a drunk Ryan McMullin. So now my car has that icky soap residue in non-parallel streaks all over the hood, and the roof, and everywhere else.

Self-image: I was driving down the road and looked out the window and saw a carfull of cute girls staring at me. I thought I was the man, so I waved at them. They proceeded to laugh and sped up to never be seen again. It was then that I remembered that I was driving with the window down in 40 degree weather and wearing a pink knit hat and a scarf. Man, I wish I had that minute back.


I can never lock my keys in my car.

The windshield doesn’t fog up as easily.

My window is already down at the drive-thru.

On drive-thrus… 2/11/99

I don’t know if you guys heard about this, but there is talk of making the use of cell phones in cars illegal. Now, I’m not a big advocate of accidents in any capacity, but if we’re going to outlaw something because it detracts too much attention away from the actual turning and breaking of the vehicle, then we need to start with something other than cell phones. Like drive-thrus. Now, I’m not the most coordinated guy in the world, but I can quite easily hold a phone with my shoulder and cheek if necessary. And I’m also talented enough to not have to look into the receiver in order to trust that it’s working. If you’ve been keeping track, that leaves my eyes available to look down the road, my left hand free to steer the car, and my right hand free to change the radio station when that stupid “Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing” song comes on. However, simple things like turning the car aren’t as easy when you’re trying to use the pickle to scrape the onions off the top bun of your Big Mac. And you’re bound to drop a fry or two in the seat of your car that you won’t be able to find with your eyes on the road. And the fun doubles when you do all of this with a McFlurry in your crotch. In short, I say we start at the source and ban drive-thrus before we start with cell phones. Laptop computers and audio workout tapes are also up there.

On car terms I don’t know… 6/1/99

I know I didn’t tell you all to warn you, but I was going to take this week off of quote duty because I have the week off of work and I was supposed to be spending it in PA with my parents. Well, my car didn’t see fit to acknowledge that request. Instead, it decided to blow it’s head gasket. I don’t know too much about cars, but I imagine the head gasket is the one in charge. And he’s an expensive little guy too. He’s gonna cost me about $1100 to replace. That’s almost twice as much as the cost of the vehicle. And I’m not even factoring in the cost of the window to get replaced. So I’m probably just gonna get a new car. “New” meaning “different” in this case. In fact, I’m toying with the idea of buying Stryker’s car. Get this: It’s the same make and model (Olds Cutlass Ciera), but his is a year older and in much better condition. So I would feel right at home in the car almost immediately, and I have every spare part I could possibly need. Except a head gasket of course. Or maybe I could just start training one of my car’s worker gasket’s to eventually take over if I need him to one day. I think I’m gonna actually need to research this a little more. But anyway, this might be the end of all that endless complaining I’ve been doing about the car. I’m kinda pissed it ended this way. I always figured I’d crash the damn thing first.

On getting my car towed… 6/17/99

Well, as of midnight tonight, I will no longer be driving an uninsured car. Just an unregistered one. With illegal tags. But it’s got a whole window that goes all the way up and everything! Now my current problem is with the people to whom I am donating my car. The damn American Cancer Society. They’re taking their sweet old time picking up my car, which is sitting at the mechanic’s illegally with no tags. The Howard County Police already threatened to impound it once if I don’t get it out of the lot. So I called AAA (of which I am a member) and asked if they would tow my car back to my apartment. They told me that they’d give me the first 3 miles free and it would be like $2.50 for each additional mile. At most, it would cosst $5.00 to do this. But here’s the catch. They won’t tow it out of a mechanic’s garage. They don’t cover that kind of service for whatever reason. So if I want to get AAA to tow my car back to my apartment, I’ll need to push it out of the parking spot, out of the lot, and down the street to where it is no longer in sight of Merchant’s Auto Repair. I think I smell an accident brewing. That will possibly be the best thing that could happen. I’ll aim for a telephone pole and then AAA will definately tow it. Stupid instigating bastards.

On last words… 6/2/99

-From the Baltimore Sun’s Obituaries page, June 2, 1999-

Mobile Jr., Pimp

Of natural causes on Monday, May 31st, 1999, PIMP MOBILE JR., dark blue not-so-beloved vehicle of Dustin Fisher, with no real other relations and only 3 functional windows. Pimp Jr. was a ripe young 13 years of age when he suddenly suffered a blowby in his head gasket in a gas station in Columbia, MD Monday. Sources have not yet confirmed the cause of the vehicle’s sudden blowby, but Columbia-area mechanic, Earl, suggests that “this is just the way shit happens sometimes, dude.”

Earl added that he had trouble believing that the alleged “piece of shit lasted him this long.”

PIMP-MOBILE JR., also known as “That Stupid Car” and “Fucking Piece Of Shit,” will be missed by hardly anyone, as Dustin is reportedly “almost glad” to have to get rid of it. Friends may call at Smitty’s Scrap Metal and Tanning Salon, MD. 1212 W. Snake Belly Path, Columbia (behind the sewage plant), on Thursday 3 to 5 and 7 to 9. Wake service 8 P.M. Funeral Liturgy (Mass) on Friday, June 2 at 10 AM at St. Jude’s Community Church for the Damned, Scaggsville. Contributions may be made to The Pimp-Mobile Fund, Athletics and Recreation, UMBC, 1000 Hilltop Circle, Baltimore, MD 21250.


The other direction I steer my mini-gripe sessions toward is my dating life and/or troubles with flirting. Time and time again, I exploit my incompetence in the dating circuit for the pleasure of the masses. And I hope you guys appreciate it, damnit!…

On the difference in the sexes… 6/20/98

You know what guys? There is a significant difference between guys and girls. OK, there are several. And I imagine there are some even I don’t know about yet. But here’s one of them. Guys flirt because they like to be around a girl they find attractive. Girls flirt to send signals. Guys have no idea what those signals mean. Girls think guys are stupid. Guys are stupid. Girls are right.

On maintaining my heterosexual image… 6/23/98

Another thing about flirting is that they say the most important thing to do is be yourself. Well, the hell with that crap! I’ve been being myself for over 20 years now, and what has it gotten me? DICK! (That could be taken one of a few different ways. Take it the more
figurative, heterosexual way if you could, please).

On the psyche of females… 6/22/99

Well, the perks of my job just don’t stop. I get to go to see Tarzan with 45 chicks tomorrow. I like my chances. And a lot of the older girls ask me why all the other girls like me, and I honestly don’t know. I think it’s just because I treat them like normal adults. Tiny, stupid adults. Actually, I think I figured it out. I think I unintentionally pit them against each other in competition for my attention. It’s probably not emotionally healthy, but it’s a damn fun game! Now, if only I can harness this talent, and somehow manipulate the basics a bit to be able to control the minds of older women. Like 18 and 17 year olds. Then, I could complete my life and write that book. But for right now, I guess I’ll have to settle for the 9 and 10 year olds. They learned a new game today where they con Mr. Dustin into spinning them around until he falls down on his stomach. Then two kids grab each arm and pull me like a taxi around the gym with another person sitting on my back. I hope this game doesn’t become too popular.

On my obsession with my co-counselor… 7/25/98

Well, that didn’t last too long. We went out Wednesday and come this weekend, she stopped returning my pages. (She has a pager. I wasn’t mailing a book to her a little at a time.)

Comparing Star Wars to dating… 5/21/99

> Quote Of the Day 5/21/99
> “Look, go see it again, I’m tellin’ you. Your opinion might not
> change, but at least you’ll be sure you really do hate it.”
> -Boba Fett Freak

That’s actually how I get stuck in so many relationships.

On morality… 6/24/98

She has a boyfriend! What the hell is up with that? Am I really that stupid, or are women just that inherently evil? You girls all suck. And not like in a good way, either. And I really got the hint that she wouldn’t mind cheating on her boyfriend. And though on one hand I know it’s wrong…, I could really be convinced to have a premeditated moment of weakness. Maybe a few, if things really go well.

On the nature of woman… 7/20/99

I’ve said it before, but I love seeing children outsmart these “adults” we have working for us. Especially when it shows signs of a budding sarcastic bitter hatred for the world’s supposed “humanity.” One of the 12-year-old girls in the older group is cheating on her “boyfriend” from school with a 13-year-old junior counselor at camp. And she shows no remorse for what she’s doing. Apparently I’ve been giving women a bad rap. It’s not a conscious choice they make to be evil. It’s inherent in their DNA. Genetics is to blame and that’s a losing battle, despite what those Austin Powers penis pumps say on the label. If it wasn’t for the fact that men’s DNA make them inherently blind to it, procreation of the human race could be in serious jeopardy.


On my job as Quote Master on a slow day…

OK, so maybe it’s not exactly fall-down belly laughter, but it’s kind of introspectively funny. OK, well maybe it’s not even interesting at all. I don’t care. I already typed it. I’m tired, and I’m going to bed. Laugh or go to hell.


Love, pink hats, and volleyballs,
Love, pina coladas, and the muppet dance,
Love, broccoli bites, and volleyballs,
An hour older, an hour dumber,
Ridding the world of the
grammatically incorrect youth,
Funny every other day,
The man who loves Calc III so much,
he’s doing it again,
Dirty, hungry, tired, and late,
Catch you later e-mail dudes,
Tragically hip,
The man. The myth. The idiot.
Ruler of Tor and Space Monkey Whore,
He liked Calculus III so much,
he took it a third time,
Wet and swerving all over the place,
Protector of the quotes,
Keeper of the Crickets,
Protector of the chicken thumbs,
Sniffing lots of pepper and wearing a helmet,
Hasta la viagra,
“Playing” with the kitten,
Honorary wad of the week,
Breaking unwritten laws,
Never watered down,
A tumor in the brain of justice,
Goalie, coach, and part time frat buster,
Subcontracting freelance 8-year-olds,
Fighting for the forces of goo,
Miles to go before I sleep,
Miles to go before I sleep,
Wasting time with all the chat room yackers,
Good enough for now,
Staring at the 7-10 split of success,
Licking the ceiling fan of torture,
Not necessarily the news,
Setting bear traps on the basepath,
A perpetual sleep deprivation experiment,
Faking an organism,
Offend and run,
Putting the lid lid on Jar Jar,
The Hollywood Avenger,
FaTKiD groupie,
Praying to the patron saint of
late computer art projects,
The thimble of therenity,
Desperately seeking Suzanne,
Desperately seeking Sleep,
Doing the Indian boogie to a white man’s song,
Single and probably doing it wrong,
Seeking big girly hair girlies,
Robbing, er uh… rocking the cradle,
Hot for student,
Not gay,
Chipping for bogie,
Love, interceptions, and a clay imp,
Pushing dead cars into poles,
Pointless guard,
World’s Worst Basketball Documentarian,
Marginally fly (for a white guy),
Making faces back at little kids,
A foot in his mouth and his heart in his hand,
Looking for a court to hold my balls in,
Testing the boundaries of child abuse,
The guy with which you can up help the TV hook,
Love, Liberace, and the pursuit of hacky sacks,
Leaving latino locusts,
Loving Velveeta’s logo,
Trying to surf in the wading pool of opportunity,
Rook for a rook,
I’m taking my ball and I’m leaving,
Au reservoir,
Wiping dirt off a surface,
Looking for the next best thing,
The walls have ears too,
Queen Bitch of the Banshees,
Still crazy after all these years,
Nobody special today,
Not the man,
Miles to go before I sleep,
Miles to go before I sleep,

De Fishy One.
Screaming Cricket.
Wet Cricket.
Sneezing Cricket.
Twitching Cricket.
Screaming Dustin.
Leaving Cricket.
Squauking Cricket.
Poaching Cricket.
Freezing Cricket.
Widowed Cricket.
Air Fisher.
The Riddler.
Screams with Crickets.
Catain Sarcastic.
The Extendinator XXIV.
Mr. Dustin.
Mr. Robinson.
Crotch McFlurry.
Sir Mix-Just-Barely-Enough.
Gutter Man.
Mr. Cantaloupe.
Mr. Crossover.
Mr. Taxi.
Mr. Jungle Gym.
Mr. Banana Nut Muffin (don’t ask).
Sucky Sucky.
Lick Me, Lick Me.
Bungle Nut.
Adolescent Boy Hair Man.
Fun Solo.
Mr. Whistlehead.
Grandmaster Quote.
Throws Cats Far.
Quote Sensei.
Quote Daddy D.
Quotey Quote & the Funky Bunch.
The Talented Mr. Whistlehead.
Stressing Cricket.
The Quorax.

Still Standing Right Here…
Steal Sanding Ripe Shears…
Still Understanding Right Here… (Conover)
Taking A Nap…
Still Taking A Nap…
Lying Down With A Wet Towel On My Leg…
Getting Back Up Slowly…
Sleeping With the Television On…
Still Hobbling Right Here…
Still Limping Right Here…
I Can’t Stand It…
I never sit down. I sleep on one leg…

DO YOU YAHOO!? Well, that’s fine. Just not in public.


Well, the quote has some definite history behind it. I don’t really keep a diary (because I’m a real man), but you can pretty much piece together old QOTDs to figure out what I did my entire college career. And beyond. The quote saw me get written up for noise violation all of my five years at UMBC. Even when I was an RA. The quote saw me get an apartment, a car (sorta), a real job (even more sorta), it saw me crash that car (definitely), it saw that car get broken into, and it saw that car finally die, a new car be born, and the “new” car lose the option of reverse (by the way, I have some stuff to tell you guys soon). The quote traveled with us across the country to LA and ventured down to Florida and back. It has even outlasted (God rest their souls) the Pimp-Daddies and Everyday @ Six, and witnessed the still birth of FaTKiD. It has also witnessed me become the victim of graduation. It was there through all of my women problems (and some of my women solutions), and it was there when you guys all e-mailed each other behind my back to conspire to chip in and buy me a television. That was the absolute coolest thing anybody has ever done for me. Kudos to Evil Greg for planning that, even though he was eventually asked to leave with a dishonorable discharge.

I truly thought that when I first sent out that first quote that it might last the last three months of the semester and that’s all. I had no intention of spanning the globe from California to Thailand, and from Alabama to Australia. And I definitely didn’t figure 146 people would want to get this thing once a day for the last five years. Well, apparently you do, and that puts all the more pressure on me to keep it coming. And I can’t disappoint my crowd. Well, it seems that almost all the predictions I made in the last four years have come true. Barnes has been happily dating the same girl for over three years now (and I think he’s engaged now), we made up that stupid outdoor soccer game after almost a year, and White “Good” Tony did indeed become an RA. Now whether or not a got a “real job that doesn’t involve playing with kids for money” is arguable, but at least it pays. And they’re older kids now. Speaking of older kids, I’d like to congradulate a few recent graduates of the QOTD list. Joining the ranks of Sedge, Senor Tonto, Stryker, myself, Tony, Suzanne, Meawad, Kevin, and Leigh this year are Good Joe, Mike (or whatever appropriate nickname you want to call him), Teresa (little boy hair girl), Flynn (who decided to celebrate this newfound freedom by getting married), and, believe it or not, Billy and Kristen. I’m pretty sure that nobody had a date this early in the poles. From what I heard, they’re getting married too. And so is Kevin (the Cowboy) this August. And I can’t even get laid. I’ve got to be doing something wrong. And to those of you who are graduating, do me a favor. I know I said it last year, but not everybody listened, including Tony, the guy I thought would appreciate my wisdom more than anyone else down here. Don’t sell out. Don’t go getting a real job and that kind of shit. Find low-paying, low-stress, low-prestige jobs to help you cling onto those college years. Better yet, go to grad school. Put off the real world as long as possible. You already got your masters? Get a doctorate. There’s always reason for going back. You’ll regret it if you don’t, I kid you not. Besides, eating everyday is overrated.


I’ve been saving this quote for a few moths… (I realized I misspelled that right after I did it, but I’m leaving it because it’s too funny to change). Anyway, I’ve been saving this quote for a few MONTHS partly because I wanted it to be the anniversary edition’s quote, but mostly because I haven’t sent another one out in as much time. It’s a testiment to the lasting effect I have on people. Or maybe it’s just my ego playing tricks on me again. Well, a few friends of mine, myself, and about 8,000 other people were trying to get into this Irish Pub up in PA on St. Paddy’s Day. Apparently, I hadn’t been to the ATM in quite some time and I was quite low on cash. I didn’t want to embarrass myself, so I asked Joe if I could borrow some money, to which he, being as though it was his job as a friend, agreed. I then overheard the guy say it was only a $3 cover, which I had. So I turned to Joe…

Quote Of the Day 3/3/00
Me: “I’m good, Joe.”
Joe: “No. I’M Good Joe!”

I hope it was worth the five months of preparation. I’m gonna take the next five months off to give you time to read it.

Doing what I can for the people I love,

I know many people
Have stood where I stand.
I’ve been searching for years now
For just one honest man.
People tell me I can trust them
And then they’ll play their little games.
Then I tell them I’ll be faithful
And sometimes I act the same.

But I’ve tried and I’ve tried,
And I’ve lied and I’ve lied,
Still Standing Right Here…
-lyrics by Dustin Fisher