QUOTE OF THE DAY 7 YEAR ANNIVERSARY!!!

…and I’ll bet you thought I’d forgotten about you guys…

Once every year for the past 7 years, I’ve put together a compilation of all the best (according to me) quotes, humorous anecdotes, and bungling idiot stories that made an appearance in the quote of the day since its conception back in 1995. Well I’ll warn you all now, but next year, I’m not gonna do it. Three years ago, I officially postponed March 3rd for an entire month, and two years ago it took me a whole four months to get around to finishing my “research” and put the 5 1/3 year anniversary edition together. And this year, I’ve actually let the calendar lap me. At this rate, I won’t get around to the 8th anniversary edition until at least the 11th anniversary, and that will be a logistical paradox I’d rather not have to solve. I’m still trying to argue my case about the first year of the millenium. So this might be the last anniversary edition, in case anybody out there still cares. I had almost given up hope of finding the time to do this, but Jordan’s comeback inspired me. And then Cal retired. Which left me with another paradox to solve. Man, I just can’t win.

So it’s been seven years. Not only has it been that long since I started the quote of the day, but it’s been that long since I was a sophomore in college. It seems like just last week I was up all night playing Magic with John, Mikey and Scott. Actually, it was. Some things don’t change. But I’ll bet in the past 7 years, things have changed for most of you. I’m beginning to learn that I am the exception. To a lot of things. But anyway, about 7 years ago, I sent out the first quote of the day. I had just learned how to use a computer and all I could do was e-mail people and play this stupid game where there were two monkeys throwing exploding bananas at each other. So I heard something funny, got Kate to show me how to make an e-mail list, and sent this to the 23 people I had e-mail addresses for:

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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.
-Dustin.

March 3, 1995

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

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And that was it back then. Just the one sentence of text and then the actual quote. It was so plain and unassuming when it first started. I figured that it would last until the end of the semester when I had to go back to a computerless home in PA. I find myself here 7 years later, still trying to send this little anecdote out to 152 “subscribers” as daily as I possibly can (the last year excluded). It’s been put on somewhat of a back shelf recently to trivial things like fantasy football, online backgammon, and working to try to make money so I can buy food. But I wasn’t doing too bad of a job for a self-employed, non-government, non-paying occupation with no real advertisement. The quote had grown in its seven years of existence. It’s really been an excellent venue for my constant bitching and complaining about my car, my dating life, and my latest sporting ventures and the subsequent injuries I sustained from all three of those areas. But the quote is what started it all, and it’s still what drives the “quote of the day.” Without the quote, the greater public would have never been introduced to the likes of “Sculptionary” or Julie’s new dimmer switch. We’d have also never found out that buffalo shrimp are named after Doug Flutie and we’d probably never know about the thumbless chickens might not be running around Pizzeria Unos screaming, unable to use tools.

The quote has also been an open forum at times for some odd sexual confessions. Superdave admitted that he had only one ball, and Drew confessed his bisexual tendecies toward both women and lesbians. Geoff likes his women like he likes his cheese – white American. Also, 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 (or was that cocks?). For better or for worse, some of the quotes have 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.

My dad and I have also shared a lot of information about money in the past year. He has a few two-dollar bills that are worth four dollars (the kind that are stuck together), and whenever he really needs a loan, I’ve promised to leave him alone. We also shared our theory that states that gamblers tend to lose their money because it brings a sense of closure. Quickly followed by a sense of forcloure. My friends have also shared their share of theories on the quote. Mike’s midnight is really just a dark noon, but that means little to Good Joe, who runs on a metric day anyway. Real athletes still aren’t giving wrestling the respect Russ feels it deserves, which is why Mike doesn’t watch it unless one of the guys is on his fantasy team. Apparently, he’s losing to Tony in his fantasy chess league. But there are a lot of flaws in Tony’s problem. He needs to learn to think before he thinks like Billy does or else the DJ will never play Every Morning twice in a row for him. I could show you guys how to make a pair of socks out of a larger pair of socks, and Billy could show you how to make a drawstring out of them (he’s still the smarter one), and I think everybody knows now that the head gasket is the one in charge of all the other gaskets. I’ve also been told that 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 can’t whine to Andrew about it, he doesn’t want to hear my Saab story.

So who’s gonna win the QOTD MVP this year? For those of you new to the anniversary list and for those of you who can’t remember back far enough to when I did the last one, the MVP award goes to the person who makes my job easier by either snapping back at life with wit-based, clever socio-political commentary on one of society’s many problems, or by puking out random words in either a drunken haze or just a grammatically incompetent tantrum. Coincidentally enough, I just described Tony and Russ to a tee. And since they both happened to be living about 5-15 feet away from me, they have become the front runners for this year’s MVP award. Mike is always a good bet and Joe somehow sneaks into the mix even though I only see him two weeks out of the year. I guess it helps that he actually remembers them and writes them down and e-mails them to me. Or would it be somebody from the office? Geoff and Gary say stupid things more often than just about anybody (Russ excluded). And one can never rule out the father factor. The first two years of this quote thing, John Sears (who could shock everybody next year) took the crown easily with his witty retorts usually poking fun at himself, the art department, you guys, or me. Four years ago with John having graduated, the field was wide open, and Good Tony stepped up to the plate and took the crown. He then let Mike hold it for a year before he and I decided to live together, thus eliminating everyone else from contention. But this year’s tallies were a lot closer then Tony’s blowout year last year. Would he maintain his title or would he hand it off to the other roommate? Or would Mike bitchslap him to get the title back? Or could somebody like Kevin, Joe or my dad come out of nowhere like that Sarah Hughes chick in figure skating (and to answer your next question, no I haven’t turned gay)?
Well, it looks like Tony will be rubbing his cheek for another year at least. In case I’ve lost you, Mike has bitchslapped his trophy back from Tony. He didn’t have the luxury of going across the country in a van with me this year, but we did have Kevin’s wedding to do some quote generating. Mike’s 8 quotes went from comparing Chocolat to those “behold the power of cheese” commercials to asking if an almost full coke can on the table was open. Gosh, I hope so. So his combined cleverness and idiocy nets him this year’s gold medal. Congratulations and I’m sure you’ll find a real job sometime if you just play Civilization enough. Losing to Mike by one vote apiece were Good Joe and Russ, the silver-splitting sister-kissers. In fourth place was poor ole married Kevin with four. But I’m sure he’ll have to give at least two of them to his new wife. Because he’s married. Forever. Speaking of married, fifth place was split between my dad and Tony. OK, maybe I shouldn’t have started that with “speaking of married.” So congrats to Mikey for his second title. And not to overexaggerate his accomplishments, but of all the people who have two QOTD MVPs, he’s the third.

Usually, the quote comes from everyday life in the intramural curcuit, the dodge ball battlefield, the volleyball court, or in the Van Of Stench somewhere in Kansas. 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 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 corkscrew it into the ground every year about this time, it’s still one of my favorites:

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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.”
-Me

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.”
-Weed

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The best quote from 5 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…

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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

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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…

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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…

..sandwich.

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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…

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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.”
-Mike

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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.

Last 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. So of course it would figure that three people on the panel would have a hand in last year’s quote of the year. Well, this quote is kinda like my three bext unmarried friends in tandem. But in this case, tandem doesn’t mean they all jump out of a plane attatched 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:

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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 (using Mike’s account) 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…

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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 eveyone as it was! hey, wait a minute…

So this year had a lot less total quotes, but there were just as many quality ones in there. Like for example, my favorite from last year which got snubbed in the voting process. And I think we’ve all been there, which makes me still laugh about it. Well, at least I’ve been there. Nevermind. Here you go.

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Dustin’s Favorite Quote 2000-2001

This quote came from a conversation I had with Evil Lance McFreelander (Mike) as he was in the process of signing his contract a few weeks ago with Little Boy Hair Girl (Teresa) (I need to start renicknaming my friends again). Anyway, he was trying to describe to me the state of being his relationship with Teresa was in…

Quote Of the Day 2/14/01

Me: “So are you guys exclusive now?”
Mike: “Well… kinda.”
Me: “Well, if she goes out with somebody else, would you get pissed?”
Mike: “Yeah.”
Me: “And if you go out with somebody else, would she get pissed?”
Mike: “Gosh, I hope not.”

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It’s a wonder they ever broke up, all they had going for them. ;) This year’s runner up is from a relatively new source of quotage, but it’s not so odd, as I probably see him more than anyone else in my life right now. Again, I’d like to clarify my heterosexuality after that comment. Anyway, here’s what your votes decided was the…

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Runner Up Quote Of the Year 2000-2001

The office is a fun place to work. Lots of characterrs around. Geoff and Hiedi were having a conversation last week about something which is fairly irrelavant now. But here’s how the conversation ended…

Quote Of the Day 10/23/00

Geoff: “You’re nuts, Hiedi.”
Hiedi: “No, Geoff. You’re nuts. In fact, you’re the definition of nuts.”
Geoff: “I’ll show you the definition of nuts…”

It’s a wonder he had to go to sexual harassment training classes.

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For the record, I’ve never seen his definition of nuts. So who would be this year’s Quote Of the Year recipiant? Would Tony get his second in a row? Or would Mike make it a dual MVP/QOTY season for the fourth time in quote history? Or would Russ get a little love for once (and I really mean that)? Well, sorry everybody, but Tony gets the repeat this year. And by a relative landslide. But I think you’ll all agree he deserves it. Especially for the four of us that were there…

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Quote Of the Year 2000-2001

…Anyway, I went and got a ping pong table and two paddles and a few balls at Dick’s Sporting Goods the week before vacation and it wasn’t long before Russ threatened to break one by slamming it on the table…

Quote Of the Day 1/3/01

Me: “If we break one of these we’ll have to go back to Dicks.”
Tony: (walking past the table) “I’m NOT using my dick!”

I’ll bet you’re laughing out loud.

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So there it is. The Quote of the Year goes to Tony for the second year in a row. And also for the second year in a row, he was talking about the male organ. Obsessive maybe? Anyway, congratulatins Tony. Those will be some tough shoes to fill. Especially with the password and everything they have on them.
So Tony takes the crown for the second year in a row, which he has technically owned for three calendar years, but I assume you’re able to look passed that by this point of the e-mail. Last year, I was almost able to predict that he and/or Russ would be very much in the runnings, but next year is wide open as I don’t know where I’ll be working or living yet. Which believe it or not makes Joe’s stock somehow go up. That’s a feeling I’m sure he’s not used to. (Ouch!)

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The year before last year was pretty exciting in quote news. There was the introduction of the circle prank and even more fun was the not-so-sonnet I wrote after ending a 13-year non-puking streak. The poem went on to be published in Bartleby, UMBC’s annual litterary magazine. This passed year also had some pretty juicy stuff in there. There was the car that didn’t go backwards and eventually didn’t stop either, the stupidest voters in the world ever, my best friend’s wedding the live version, and let’s see… am I forgetting anything? Oh yeah! The whole ruptured Achilles thing! And all the subsequent pitifully humorous situations that arose out of that shit. But the coolest thing I think I ever did last year was, believe it or not, another poem. So far the only two poems I’ve written since high school have been published in Bartleby. I’d say that’s a pretty good track record. So, including all the English majors who are required to submit something to the magazine, most getting rejected, I was one of only two people last year who had two poems published in the thing. It made for a great Christmas present to my family members. Of course, I didn’t really bring up the other poem to some of the more sensitive relatives who are already convinced I’m a failure to myself and the Fisher family name. Wow. That was a downer. Anyway, this was the Poe/Ray Lewis inspired poem that I wrote for two straight days after the Ravens won the Superbowl. I hope you like it. Again.

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Hey everybody. I spent a long time on this and I really like it. Probably better than last year’s Ode To the Stain On Your New Rug. Anyway, if you like this and feel like forwarding it on to anybody else you know, I’d consider it a compliment. I don’t ask for favors like this too often. Thanks a ton.

Dustin.


The Raven 2001
-as adapted by Dustin Fisher (dfishe1@umbc.edu)

Once upon a long off season, Ravens fans were given reason
To sit in the bleachers freezin, spilling nachos on the floor -
For Ray Lewis was aquitted, Sharpe and Coates were then admitted,
All the pieces neatly fitted, shaped to form an inner core.
So the pieces came together forming thence a champion core.
“Praise the Lord” quoth Baltimore.

But I recall in the beginning, ‘fore the Ravens started winning,
Twere not many fans a-grinning for a team which could not score.
It’s already been three games, and still the touchdown drought remains.
The city started pointing blames; they could not take this anymore.
“Surely we can fix this problem and thence rise again once more.”
And so speaketh Baltimore.

With the offense all disjointed, Banks, the scapegoat was appointed,
“Lynch him! Lynch him! He’s the one! Thence we shall rise again once more.”
And so, with a reluctant sigh, they gave Dilfer’s arm a try.
The city loved him, for he’d cry; he’d cry and we’d not know what for.
Maybe twas his second chance at Tampa he was longing for.
We’d speculate, but never sure.

Then Week Ten had come around, the team not looking playoff bound,
For still the end zone was not found; they hadn’t seen it since Week Four.
Then, a play I’d not believe, a pass, which Stokely did recieve,
And searching for his team’s reprieve, dove to the pilon for the score.
The city cheered unlikely heros, for the Ravens found a score.
Quoth the city “We want more.”

Touchdowns started freely flowing, and now with the offense going,
This whole city started glowing; something special was in store.
Then the Ravens spoke their credos: “Who out there thinks they can beat us?
“Who among you will defeat us? This, of you, we do implore!
“Is there any better football team among us? We implore!”
Quoth the Ravens “Nevermore.”

Cincinnati took a shot, the Chargers might as well have not,
And though Dallas came in hot, they went home without having scored.
Many teams would think they’re ready, holding to their game plan steady,
But not even mighty Eddie put a C-note on the board.
Corey, Fred and even Eddie still fell short on the scoreboard.
Quoth the Ravens “This is war!”

Then the regular season ended, but the Ravens’ was extended.
All vacations were suspended, Festivus was at their door.
First the Broncos were impaled, the Mighty Titans fell and failed,
The Raiders, they jumped ship and bailed for them there pirates lost the war.
Even armed with Gannon’s cannons, still the Raiders lost the war.
Quoth the Ravens “Never score.”

And so they made it to the dance, though no reporter gave them chance
Except that prophet Sterling Sharpe, whose bald head we all still adore.
Still, these birds had made a science out of hands-down odds defiance,
A position which the Giants likened with from weeks before.
Both the Ravens and the Giants, underdogs in weeks before.
Quoth the Ravens “Nevermore.”

So with this game’s obvious pretense of both teams now preaching defense,
Twas to be a Superbowl to which reporters called a bore.
Most had thought they’d come out mellow; some, I’ll bet, saw them as yellow.
But hey! There’s that Stokely fellow granting them an early score.
Brandon Stokely once again would give the birds a needed score.
Quoth the Ravens “Nevermore.”

Then New York began to stumble, still the Ravens would not crumble.
That record-setting defense got four picks and would not heed a score.
Shannon Sharpe would say he knew it – Kerry Collins claims he blew it -
Marvin Lewis, cool all through it, breathed a sigh he’d not before.
All the city cheered a cheer they’d never got to cheer before.
Cheered the Ravens “Nevermore.”

Ray got MVP as planned, though Dilfer went to Disneyland,
And all the fans would storm the streets from Fells Point to the Harbor shore.
Last year’s memories hath faded, Raven fans were too elated
For now Billick celebrated “Finally, we won the war!”
Finally the nation realized what these ominous birds of war
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

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Thanks to you guys, a lot of people read that I’m sure. And I got a lot of e-mails from people I didn’t even know telling me how great of a poet I was and how charming I was and that I should run for senate. Well, at least they said they liked it. Thanks a bunch guys.

Well, that was a very concise history of the quote of the day. So this is the part where I do, not only something cool, but also something fairly easy. I’ve collected a grab bag full of all the different intros I’ve done in the past six (seven) years and pulled them out one by one and threw them into this e-mail for you guys. So go get a bowl of Cheese-Its and a Shasta or two. And get one for me too. Pour it in the modem, I swear I’ll get it that way. Anyway, here you go. Have fun and let me know when it’s over.

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On why I backdate my quotes on occasion… 9/8/00

…If you must know why I do this, it’s because years from now, when I look back on all these quotes in trying to put together my autobiography, “Everything Sucks; A Life In the Life of Me,” I’m going to try to convince myself I was very orderly and did all these quotes on the actual day the message says. This last paragraph, however, is going to throw a serious wrench into things. Oh well. But anyway, that’s why I backdate a lot of these. The underlying reason, of course, is that I’m lazy, late, and anal, a lethal combination of character traits. Kind of like being drunk, covered in gasoline, and at a campfire with people who want to kill you. But probably not that lethal.

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 best friend’s wedding… 9/1/00

…The wedding was fairly uneventful for the most part. Well, uneventful in the
respect that the entire ceremony was possibly the biggest event in the lives of at least 2 people, but you probably know what I mean.

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 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 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 getting in the true Christmas spirit… 12/21/00

…But anyway, the point is that I’m here and it’s late. I hope you all appreciate this because I’m not doing anything next year. Some people say I’m stressing too much. I agree with those people. Others say I shouldn’t have procrastinated this much. Those are the people I’m going to shoot with a gun.

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…

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 professional wrestling… 12/18/00

…I suppose it has its superficial appeal. Seeing half naked guys roll around with each other on a canvas can appeal to some people. But if I want to see some guy hold another guys legs in the air in the spread eagle position, so that his partner can wiggle his tongue around and dive his mouth into the helpless victim’s crotch, I’ll go onto Russ’ computer and check out his Gay Pollock porn site bookmarks.

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 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 why we should have a queen… 11/9/00

Hold the phone!! There’s a red flag on the field. What the hell happened?!? I went to bed and we had a president and I woke up and we didn’t. Who figured that going to bed at 3:30 was too early? I guess the people at CNN just wanted to go to bed at that point too. Well, if that’s the case, I’m glad they’re recounting everything. I’d hate to have our fate for the next four years sealed because reporters and election officials were getting too tired. And to all you Bush/Cheney fans out there who think the Democrats are being sore losers, I say let’s take the extra week and not fuck it up. And I think I heard something about how the electoral vote can be swayed if the popular vote favors the other candidate. If this is the case, then why don’t we just say fuck the electoral vote system and just go with the popular vote? But I’m probably
misunderstanding something.
So for those of you who live in a darkened cave or have been trapped under something heavy with all sources of external stimuli off, here’s the presidential race throwdown as explained by the definition of a layman: The man who will lead us for the next four years, direct our country into the new millenium (whether you believe my reasoning or not) our executive role model for the next tenure, will be chosen by 19,000 residents of Palm Beach County, Florida. We no longer matter. We’re done. The only people that matter anymore are the voters of Palm Beach, Florida. Not just any 19,000 voters, but the stupidest 19,000 residents who were too dumb to fill out the ballot properly. These are the citizens who will choose our leader. 19,000 old Jewish ballot filling out fuck-ups. Apparently, there were way too many votes for Pat Buchanan of the Nazi party that somebody figured something had to be wrong. So Palm Beach, Florida will probably revote. So the world’s got to wait for Palm Beach to decide what they’re gonna do. I think it’s funny that Oregon is also still undecided, but nobody gives a shit. Fuck Oregon. It rains too much there anyway.

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 soriety. 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 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 why I don’t vote… 11/17/00

Well, the Florida Supreme Court has decided to let the recount last until Sunday, at which time, a final number ABSOLUTELY MUST be reached. So if they don’t count your vote before Sunday, then it doesn’t get counted. That sounds about fair. The Bush people are pissed off at the decision. He feels that the decision of who is to be president should be decided by Florida state law, not the will of the people. Well, at least this close race proves that every vote counts. Unless you didn’t quite punch the hole all the way through. In which case, it gets thrown out.

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 stupid acronyms… 9/29/00

I don’t read many things that make me bust out in laughter out loud. Like everytime I chat on the internet and I type LOL, I’m really not. But L is kinda boring and I don’t think I’m ready to start a new acronym that means laughing, but not really all that loudly. And who the hell rolls on the floor during an internet chat?

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 proffesional 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 rating the rules of the XFL… 2/6/01

No fair catches – This translates loosely into “I’ll bet people will watch more often if they think there’s a higher possibility of death.” The ball is live after it goes 25 yards, but the punt returner has a 5 yard halo which the would-be decapitators aren’t allowed in. The penalty for violating the halo is 5 yards. So you can kill the guy on the first play and just get a 5 yard penalty. I’ll bet the second guy isn’t going to go anywhere near the ball. I guess that rule is in there for the wrestling fans that take to that sort of violence. Not me. “Mr. McMahon, this man’s helmet saved his life.” “OK, next week, the no helmet rule.” C-

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

Proof:
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.)

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On rating the US time zones… 11/28/00

Central – As time zones go in the US, this one is fairly acceptable. It’s the largest one in the country due in large part to Texas, but it does split the Dakotas and Nebraska in half with the Mountain Time Zone, which is pretty fucked up. B

Pacific – The Pacific time zone only takes up 4 states and a small part of Idaho. Very underachieving. It’s our smallest time zone and I think I know why. People have to wake up at like 8 in the morning on a Sunday to watch football. Who the hell wants to do that? And I was over in Portland during a Monday Night Football game and midway through the 4th quarter, it was still light out. I just couldn’t live like that. Then again, I wouldn’t need to stay up until 3am just to watch Moonlighting. C-

Eastern – This is obviously the dominant time zone in the country. Everything is “Eastern time.” 10:00 Eastern time, 8 eastern/7 central time, coming up except on the west coast… That’s another reason I don’t like the Pacific time zone. THey always gotta be different. Also, “Eastern Time” has now turned commonly into “Eastern Standard Time,” further supporting that dominant time zone theory. A

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 (apropriate holiday) and I hope that y2k doesn’t (crash your PC/shut off your water supply/stop the rotational inertia of the earth).

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 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 my true feelings for Drew Carey… 2/8/01

One thing I don’t agree with is the crap that Baltimore gets for having stolen a team from Cleveland. First of all, the older city folks seem to think they have the right because one got taken from us long ago. Secondly, last year’s Superbowl found the Tennessee Titans losing to the St. Louis Rams in a battle of moved franchises, but nobody seemed to even mention that. Maybe it’s just because I live here that I hear it so often. Or maybe it’s because Drew Carey won’t shut up about it. Well Drew, Art Modell said he didn’t feel that he could win in Cleveland and it only took him 4 years to prove himself correct. Because Cleveland doesn’t rock. And didn’t you leave Cleveland just about the same time the Browns did? Didn’t you move to LA because you thought it was in your better business interests? Aren’t you like the world’s biggest hippocrit? You and Art are one of a kind Drew. While I’m at it, there are way too many weird dance sequences in your silly show.

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If I was ever having a slow week and struggling to find something humorous to write about, there have always been two subjects in which my hardships in those areas of my life would cause laughter and joy to the greater public. One of these areas is my constant battle with automobiles. I’ve gone through two Olds Cutlasses in two years. I had a window stuck down, the brake pads worn completely off, and reverse just plain stop working. My cars have been broken into twice, and I can’t seem to even get rid of them without a hassle anymore. Anyway, these next few quotes are going to be all car related for your organizational pleasure.

On odd natural occurances… 2/15/01

…Sometime last night, my driver side rear window imploded. As if that wasn’t enough, my ratchet set and about $2.45 in change managed to escape through the broken window.

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.

On the comparison between car problems… 7/17/00

…The one advantage the non-reverse thing has over the non-window up thing is exactly that. Dates. I could manage to go out on a date and not let on that my car doesn’t go in reverse. Especially if I scout out the place beforehand. The toughest hurdle to clear is the parking issue. There are two options. One is to make sure I get a pull-through spot. That way I can pull in and out without needing the option of reverse at all. The other option is to park on an uphill. That way I can use nature to make my car go the way it needs to but won’t otherwise. I’ll just have to find creative answers to questions like “Why are we parking so damn far away from the restaurant?” The third option is to get her to push the thing. If that needs to happen, the gig is up. Not only is it unromantic to get her to push the car while you steer, but it’s an 84 Cutlass Supreme. They’re pretty fucking big. “Hurry up and run around and jump in while we have the momentum!” I’m definately not getting lucky that night. But the window down in the middle of November is a hard one to get around. “I like freezing my ass off. I just assumed you would too.” “The wool hat is a fashion statement and it’s just too damn hot in here with it on. So are the gloves and the scarf.” Didn’t get lucky then either.

Joe’s thoughts on my missing brake pads… 10/19/00

He suggested I get this one fixed like really soon. And this is coming from one of the only guys that agrees with me that reverse isn’t a necessity on motor vehicles. He started saying stuff like how if they get hot enough, they could fuse together and lock up the tire and send me skidding into a wall or another car or something. Now I’m probably scaring the crap out of my mother, so let me just say that I’m not really going to skid into any walls or cars, ma. I think I’ve calculated the point in which I would brake enough for this to happen, and there’s a nice soft guard rail on the 95 exit ramp. Besides, it’s likely to catch fire before any of this happens. ;) I’m actually afraid to hit the brakes now. I no longer bother slowing down over speed bumps. It’s not worth the risk. And the decision between slowing down to park in a spot or ramming into a tree to stop me is a lot harder to make than it was last week. Also, if there aren’t any cars parked on the road and I know I need to stop ahead, I just start ramming it against the right curb and bump, bump, bump my way to a stop. I may not be the smartest of the lot, but I learn how to adapt to car problems like nobody’s business.

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.”

CUT TO:

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:

CONS:

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.

PROS:

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 finally getting a new car… 10/20/00

Well, I did it. I went out and bought a new car today. Well, not really “new,” but more like “different.” Like for example, it stops when you step on the brakes, and it probably goes backwards. I’m not sure because I just instinctively pushed it out of the dealership. They looked at me really funny. Anyway, it’s a 94 Mercury… something. I forget. It’s not yellow. There was nothing yellow in my price range. It must be an expensive color.

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 rating ways to get rid of a crappy car… 10/24/00

Set it on fire – I suppose that would also be fun, but I’m not really as much a pyromaniac as I want to be, so it probably wouldn’t be all that enjoyable. I’d try to collect insurance off of that, but I don’t think the bare minimum policy allowed by the state of MD covers intentinoal fires. I’ll check it out. F

Donate it to charity – Well, this has been the suggestion of at least 4 of you via e-mail since I sent out my last message. Most charity places will tow it away for free and give a $500-$1000 tax exemption thingy. Sounds like a good idea, doesn’t it? Well, this is what I did with the last car (Pimp-Mobile Jr.) when I needed to get rid of him. The thing is is that I don’t make enough money to itemize my taxes which would be the only way I’d benefit from the tax exemption thingy. Of course, there’s the overwhelming feeling of good that I’m overcome with when I donate a piece of shit car to the American Cancer Society, becasue God knows they need one, but that’s only worth a D. D

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The other obvious direction I like to steer my mini-gripe sessions is toward my dating life and/or my problems with flirting. And everybody knows how much I love making a spectacle out of my incompetence (That was inCOMpetence. Don’t forget the COM). So here are the best of the perils of dating wisdom I have accumulated in the last 7 years. Good luck.

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 self-degrading realizations… 2/12/01

…See there’s a not-so-affectionate term that some of us guys refer to as “diving on the grenade.” It can be more tactfully called being the wing man. It’s the guy that talks to the really pretty girl’s… well, not-so-pretty friend so his friend can talk to the pretty chick. It’s a very noble man that does this job proficiently. Well, this past Friday, I was the grenade. I came to that realization fairly early but chose to ignore it. Besides, we had hit it off pretty well despite the circumstances which could have possibly led us to one another. So then I thought that maybe I wasn’t really the grenade, but it was just a coincidence. I can’t tell if my initial thought was the pessimist in me coming out or if the justification was the optimist peeking through. At any rate, I’m willing to accept defeat again. It’s the damn Valentines Day curse. Cupid’s got the arrows sharpened and pointed the right way, but the tips are laced with cyanide.

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 younger 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.

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 rating women’s hair color… 1/16/01

Brunettes – Brunettes span the attractive woman superlatives. They can be cute or sexy, pretty or exotic, Treat Her Right or Back That Ass Up. I guess blonds can be too, and so can redheads too for that matter, but there’s something about Charlotte from Sex & the City that just does it for me over the rest of them. Of course, Moranda isn’t really representing redheads that well. Anyway, brunettes have that look in their eye like they’ve got it all together. I don’t know what I’m talking about. A

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.

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This past year, there was one particular incident that managed to monopolize most of the rants I went on for at least an entire 6 months. That incident would be my Achilles rupture. And though it was probably the most pain and suffering I’ve ever had to endure in my life so far, I can see how other people not experiencing that pain and suffering would think that it’s fucking hilarious. So here’s a brief recount of my changed life shortly after “the bad day.”

Breaking the news… 8/23/00

Well, I know it’s been a while, but I have got a big little bit of news for y’all. I’ll start by saying that it’s going to make my parking situation a whole lot harder. Among other things. Anyway, I guess when push comes to shove, it was only just a matter of time when it comes to my body, but I finally did it. The mother of all leg injuries. ACL? MCL? DSL? Broken leg? Severed patella? Hyperextended big toe? Not even close. Anyway, I ruptured my Achilles tendon. Completely. Like they told me to save my money on an MRI because it was all the way gone…
And I’m a little concerned about my other Achilles too. I remember when one headlight in my car went out, the other died within a week. I hope the human body is designed by people more compitent than Ford. So how’d it happen? Was I saving small children from a burning building? Was I shaving my legs with a machete? Did I lose a bet? None of the above. I actually did it jumping in the air. Something I’ve done an estimated 27 billion times before. I didn’t land wrong, I didnt get kicked. Just jump, pop, ouch, bye bye tendon. And everybody I talked to about my injury said that this type of injury was more common to 35-40 yr old men, and I was possibly the youngest person some of the doctors have ever first-hand seen with this injury. So what it takes normal human beings at least 35-40 years to wear out, I’ve managed to get done in only 25 short years. Damn, I’m efficient.

On raising the bar… 8/31/00

I have reached a certain apex of self-pity. Just after my surgery, my mom took me up to PA to mother me in my time of need. I was actually kinda upset she was taking me away from my digital cable, MarioKart, cable modem, air conditioned apartment with a bed to go all the way back home for a week, but she’s my mom and I love her, so I let her. She brought me food, played games with me and got me stuff when I asked. There were spans of probably 24 hours when I litterally didn’t leave the couch. It was necessary to recover, but boy was I glad to be back to the life of luxury again. That is, until I found myself crawling across the livingroom floor on my stomach with a plate of ravioli and a glass of milk like a Marine under barbed wire. Even if nobody’s around, it’s a pretty humiliating and humbling experience.

On breaking the elevator in the RAC… 9/5/00

…So anyway, I noticed Blue (stuffed dog from a kids show that hung on my crutch) was missing, and I had become very attatched to this guy, almost quite litterally. So I panicked and ran around looking for him. I found him in the crack of the elevator, which I promptly pried open to rescue the poor magnetic inanimate object. I hit the elevator button to try to get him out first, and it wouldn’t work. So I guess technically Blue broke the elevator. But it’s broken. And O Hernrily as it is, now I, the one person in the entire building that really, REALLY needs the elevator, has to take the stairs because Blue broke it. I must have missed this episode. Fucking dog.

On going to the MVA in a car without reverse… 9/7/00

…I always feel nervous going to the MVA as it is. It’s like driving into the lion’s den. No tags on the front of the car, no insurance (which has been corrected mom), and I think I missed a vehicle emissions test sometime a while ago too. And I’m not sure if it’s law to have a car that goes backwards, but it’s probably not great that mine doesn’t. They’d find something to write a ticket about.
So anyway, when I got back out ot my car, there was a cop about 50 feet away, giving some lady in the middle of the parking lot a ticket. I figured, I’d wait for him to be done, then I’d go. This must have been the most complicated citation in the world. I can’t even fathom what would have taken them so long. They kept walking around the car inspecting it and pushing down on the hood and the trunk and yelping like monkeys (OK, now I’m just making stuff up). Anyway, I had to sit there for 50 minutes from when I got into my car. People were driving by looking for a spot and asking me if I was leaving. I’m like “No, I’m just gonna hang out here and read my magazine. Sorry.” I tried several times as discretely as possible to push the car out with my opposite leg, but the car is very heavy, and “discrete” was not the word to use to describe it. Some hot chick walked by during one attempt, causing me to need to abort it. It was pretty embarrassing, but after reading the “priveledges of handicapped stickers and tags” pamphlet 3 times, you are willing to compromise pride for freedom. Needless to say, I eventually got out. Even with the hot chick looking under her hood 3 cars down from me. So in order to combat this problem, I think I may need to park at the McDonalds across the street and crutch over to get my handicap parking stickers. Which will enable me to park in an even closer spot I won’t be able to get out of. Life sucks.

On finally getting my handicapped sticker… 9/11/00

…But I finally got it. And I drove to school and turned into the upper deck of the parking lot all proud and ready to whip it out and… ALL THE FUCKING HANDICAPPED SPOTS WERE TAKEN!!! What the hell? Where’s a handicapped guy gotta park nowadays? So I had to park by the soccer fields again and crutch just as far to work as usual, but now I have a useless piece of red cardboard to prove that I shouldn’t have to do that. Stupid UMBC.

On my doctor’s medical competence… 9/26/00

Sorry to keep you all in suspense for so long, but I got the news back from my doc. And I swear sometimes it seems like Laurel and Hardy might as well be in the office working on my heel. I really don’t think they know what the hell they’re doing in there. I mean I’m sure they know their anatomy and passed the cutting up humans part of their medical exams, but it’s like a craps shoot figuring out what they’re gonna tell me about my foot. I mean they recognize my face, and I’m sure they’ve got a lot of patients, but try to remember what you told me last week. Keep a chart or something. Plus there’s this fat guy with a Hitler mustache and a derby running around in black and white getting into fine messes all the time.

On shopping with only one leg… 10/9/00

Well, I’m getting better now. In fact, I might be back in the shoe and walking by the end of the month. This, of course, is my own personal assessment because I’ve stopped listening to my doctor. And I’m still just not getting anything in the way of sympathy dates. I dont get it! I’ve even got a cute little blue dog humping my crutch. I must not look pathetic enough or something. Or maybe I’m just too cute that I’m unapproachable. It’s probably one of those two things. So before I get completely better, I need to squeeze in all the material I’ve stocked up about me being injured while I’m still injured. For example…
I went to go get my antibiotics at Giant a few weeks back. I knew we were out of milk and other things, and I had to wait half an hour for my medication anyway. Apparently, taking 30 pills from a big bottle and putting them into a little bottle isn’t as easy as I thought. So anyway, I needed to get some stuff. I would normally carry one of those hand baskets around and pile all the crap in there. This is not so easy when you need your hands to walk. So I thought I could just stick my bad foot on the push cart and use it like a skateboard. But because I couldn’t put any weight on my left foot, I put all my weight on my arms, which were leaning on the handle of the cart when I pushed off with my good foot. This caused the cart to flip over backwards in not so subtle a way, which in addition to embarrassing the hell out of me, caused me a lot of pain. I was in a really bad position here and I had definately lost my chance with any chicks in the relative vicinity. If Tony wasn’t away for the week, I’m sure there would already be milk and other eating products in the fridge anyway. But relying on Russ to buy food for the apartment would mean I would eat smack ramen noodles and Natural Light until I died or Tony came home. That’s when I saw the riding cart…
It seriously took me about 20 minutes to figure out how to use it. I had to take the advice of a 12-yr-old kid who helped his grandpa operate one once, and I’m really not kidding. And I didn’t expect them to be like little racing go-carts, but I could have crawled along the floor, pushing my 12 items or less to the cashier a little bit faster. Having suffered enough embarrassment, I opted not to crawl. Though it was embarrassing enough driving around with my milk and Froot Loops in my cart, getting passed by two-legged walking people. I started “accidentally” running into the bastards. And I ran into some cute little freshman chick at the check out line who had seen me fall and asked if I was OK and wanted to know if I needed help carrying my Froot Loops to my car. So I told her to fuck off and to go patronize somebody who gave a damn. I have another theory on why I don’t get any sympathy dates.

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Love, pink hats, and volleyballs,
Love, pina coladas, and the muppet dance,
An hour older, an hour dumber,
Stuck in a neverending 3-pt-turn,
Dirty, hungry, tired, and late,
Tragically hip,
The man. The myth. The idiot.
Crutch fucked by the man,
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,
Fighting for the forces of goo,
Never underestimated,
Desperately seeking brakes,
Wasting time with all the chat room yackers,
Anybody need a 12-foot parking space holder,
Licking the ceiling fan of torture,
A perpetual sleep deprivation experiment,
Faking an organism,
Praying to the patron saint of late computer art projects,
And the beat goes on,
The thimble of therenity,
Single and probably doing it wrong,
Robbing, er uh… rocking the cradle,
Hot for student,
Chipping for bogie,
Love, interceptions, and a clay imp,
Pointless guard,
A foot in his mouth and his heart in his hand,
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,
Rook for a rook,
Kicking Cupid in the nuts,
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,
Nevermore,

Dustin.
Extendo.
De Fishy One.
Crutch.
Achilles Heal.
Screaming Cricket.
Wet Cricket.
Sneezing Cricket.
Screaming Dustin.
Freezing Cricket.
Crippled Cricket.
Air Fisher.
Nipples.
Fathead.
The Riddler.
Gimpy.
Screams with Crickets.
Nitsud.
Fish.
The Extendinator XXIV.
Extenda-Poe.
Mr. Dustin.
Mr. Robinson.
Mr. Neutral.
Extendo-duck.
Crotch McFlurry.
Extendaclaus.
Little Seizure.
Mr. Cantaloupe.
Mr. Taxi.
Mr. Jungle Gym.
Bungle Nut.
Fun Solo.
ExTEndO.
Gimp Master D.
Coy.
Not-Not-Dustin.
Mr. Whistlehead.
Slim Gimpy.
Limp Daddy.
Mr. Glass.
Grandmaster Quote.
Quote Sensei.
Quote Daddy D.
Quotey Quote & the Funky Bunch.
Stressing Cricket.
The Quorax.
X.

Still Standing Right Here…
Still Understanding Right Here… (Conover)
Lying Down With A Wet Towel On My Leg…
not standing anywhere for 4-6 months…
Still Stranded Right Here…
Quoth the Raven, “Still Standing Right Here…”
I Can’t Stand It…
I never sit down. I sleep on one leg…

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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 my entire “professional” career so far. 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, that car lose reverse and brakes and finally die, a newer car be born, and to bring it full circle, it saw that car get broken into. 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, Everyday @ Six and FaTKiD. It has also witnessed me become the victim of graduation. It’s been there for me through all of my various unlikely and likely injuries. 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 seven years. Well, apparently you do, and that puts all the more pressure on me to keep it coming. I want to thank everybody now that has asked me for the last two years what happened to the quote and when am I going to start it again. Every once in a while I’d walk through campus and see somebody I haven’t seen in a while and they truly sounded disappointed that I had stopped doing this. And I can’t disappoint my crowd. This is normally the part of the e-mail where I congratulate the recent graduates but I refuse to do that this year. I think everybody on the list, including the kids that were freshmen when I was an RA my last year as a student, have already graduated and I refuse to believe I’m that old. Of course I do use a walker to get around campus now, so maybe I should start to believe it. The whole Evil Joe crowd is gone, includiong Handy who was actually UMBC’s class valadictorian. So this list actually has a valadictorian on it. And then there’s Russ. But Russ is actually the smart one. Graduation is for the weak. Anybody can graduate and get a real job and make enough money to eat food every single day. It’s the truly dedicated who come back to school year after year to try to hold on to those glory days. Not me. I’m staying put until those glory days finally arrive.

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So I started hanging out with John and Scott and Giese again because I was starting to feel old always hanging out with the college crowd. That didn’t help. At least now I feel like WE’RE old, as opposed to just me being old. Anyway, we’ve been getting together to play these games like Magic and Elvenland and the Bean game recently. We try to do this once a week and in the process I have realized that all these people still hung out with each other even after I stopped hanging out with them. I don’t know why I expected the entire crowd to lose touch just because I did. Maybe that’s a testiment to how self-centered I am. But enough about me – We got together and I started asking about all these people and realized that I was so far out of the loop in my old 3rd south crowd. To this, Scott very appropriately responded…

Quote Of the Day 3/3/02

“Well, that’s because you’re the only one who stayed in the loop.”
-Scotty Too Hotty

True. Very true. Of course, there will always be SuperDave.

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

Doing what I can for the people I love,
Dustin.

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

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