The Columbus Adventures

Because I am a slave to the capitalist system, I decided I needed some money. Fortunately, my Aunt Mary said I could come down to Columbus, Ohio and help her with crap. So I did. And here I am.









Basically, I spent all day pulling weeds and hedging stuff. She has some cool gardening technology, so it's not that bad. She has this electric clipper that cuts through bushes like they're Elisabeth Hasselbeck and I'm Rosie O'Donnell (except I don't lose my job after cutting them down, and I'm also not a fat lesbian). I get to be a bit creative in how big of a rounded , massacred heap of stems I make the bushes. She also has this dig-it thing that connects to the hose, and basically makes muddy holes in the ground by spitting water at them.

What has this blog come to? I'm talking about gardening tools. I am pathetic.

But not quite. I was able to get in contact with some of my OSU contacts, and met up with them. I've never been to OSU's campus, and to be perfectly honest (would you expect anything less), I was not real impressed. The dorms do not even have carpet. They actually bring in their own carpet to put in. That totally blew my mind. We played pool at the crappy rec room, and then had a burrito at the crappy burrito eat-place. The burrito wasn't as crappy as it could have been, and it was free...We reminisced on old times, which consisted mostly of him hitting me in the face....hmmm, I'm not sure why I still consider him my friend...

Tomorrow I go to the plant store and buy plants to plant. Then I might "hit the town" as they say with some other friends who happen to be here. I guess this trip wasn't a total bust.

In other news: The Barry bought his Bonnaroo tickets today. Shake his hand next time you see him.

Love and happiness,
Barry

Ikea: Reflections

Yesterday I went up to the lovely Ikea in scenic Canton, Michigan. I'm not gonna lie, those Swedes really know how to design some kicking furniture. As I type this, my butt is enjoying the comfort and versatality of an Ikea office chair, while my clothes sleep soundly in my new gigantic (no I'm not compensating for anything, douche) dresser. It's almost as big as I am.

I also got this rug, some frames, and I tried Linginberry juice. I was hoping all of the employees would speak like the Swedish chef, but no such luck. I'm still gonna make at least one more trip out there so I can get stuff to "pimp" out my sophomore dormroom. If you're reading this Fransico, get ready. I got plans.

Tomorrow I head down early to Columbus. I'm helping my aunt with stuff so I can get mad cash, which I need like an Ethopian needs rice. Also, her devil cat recently died, and I'm a little afraid the place might be haunted. This is the cat that viciously attacked a young Barry as he was gently playing by himself on the floor. That was one time; the late Abigail has ambushed me many times over the past 15 years. But who's laughing now [laughs]. See you in cat hell! Scratch this.





SONG OF THE WEEK:
See? It's a series. Now there are two of 'em.
SONG FOR MAY 27th:
WAR OF CONFUSION
THE KLEPTONES
So, I've gotten into this mashing thing, where a DJ takes two different songs and smashes them together, usually to finger-snappin' enjoyment. On this website, you can download the Kleptones' whole "24 Hours" album, but prolly the best track is Disk 1, Track 15. It's a mash of Genesis' "Land of Confusion," the "War. Uhh, what is it good for? (say it again)" and some interesting vocal additions. Actually, the whole CD is good, and it is free. Just right click a track and select "Save Target As" and enjoy. Mmmm. Free music.
http://www.kleptones.com/pages/downloads_24h.html

No Sleep...till Columbus,
Barry

Shivering timbers

So, like a comformist fool, I went and saw "Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End" tonight. Three hours long.

Feelings: Orlando Bloom sucks. I've come around to really like Johnny Depp. Keira Knightly might be the hottest person in the world. Really, the second and third movies should've been stripped down and morphed into one movie.

Go and see it. At least go to go see Keith Richard's Jack Sparrow's father. They look almost exactly alike, except Depp is much, much more attractive. And you will end saying, hey, there honestly were some truly stupid moments. But there is a lot of dudes swinging around on ropes, which seems like it's everybody's method of cross-ship transport. I think in actually more people would end up splattered against the hull. Oh well. And it sets it up for Pirates 4, but I checked the web, and it said that it'll be a few years if that ever comes to fruition. Kick out Orlando Bloom, and everyone would be much happier.

I'm still in love with Keira Knightly, though. She can swash my buckle anytime.

A-hoy!,

Barry

Sussudio: Reflections

I recently had the old Genesis tune "Sussudio" stuck in my head, so I downloaded it, and I'm pretty confused (more than most of the time). First, what does it mean? Is it the girl's name? Is it a pick-up line? The safety word? Personally, I'm heavily leaning towards Voodoo curse. Maybe I should try it once in awhile:

ME: Hey, honey. Let me buy you a drink.
CUTE GIRL: Uh, no thanks. And please stop grabbing yourself.
ME: HOW DARE YOU!! SUS-SUS-SUSSUDIO!!!
CUTE GIRL: No..gak.......(pause, pause, pause)...wanna go to my place?
ME: Thanks Phil Collins!

Or something like that.

Unrelated, I think something is wrong with my insect screen, because as I speak bugs are swarming me: my skin, my computer, one just flew in my mouth, etc. Occasionally, there is a really big one that makes a lot of noise, which makes me sort of nervous to go to sleep. I am worried I might wake up and be missing arms. Just another hazard-filled country night, I suppose.

Since I haven't been doing to much with my life the past few weeks, I have been doing some thinking (and I kinda learned the Cure's "Lullaby" on guitar. Rock on!). Times are changing here. I'm starting to feel a little alienated in my group of friends here. It's not that I find anything particularly wrong with them, it's just my college friends are a lot different, and to be honest, a lot deeper than most of my friends here. Let me go into something else. So throughout most of high school, the group of people I hung out with most were band people (just get the insults out now, please). Over the summer, I sort was "in between groups." I hung out with a lot of different people, but a lot of my time was spent with a sort of revamped version of our old group, which included a few musical people. Now there was nothing wrong with this, but now that is only group I really hang out with. I guess you could say I feel a little repressed. I always feel a little uncomfortable hanging out, and I don't really know why. I think what might add to it is that almost all the girls we hang out with are dating someone far away, while all the guys, including myself, are single, without many (at least local) perspective girlfriends, which somehow adds this weird tension that I can pick up. There also seems to be this strong notion that this could very well be the last summer we all hang out together. I feel a little like Locke in one of the last episodes of LOST this season (did you see that season finale? It was NUTS!!), as he was informing Sawyer that he wasn't really a part of the beach people or the Others, he said "I'm on my own path now." I think that sort sums up how I kinda feel right now. We'll see, there's still a long summer ahead.

Please don't take this personally at all, this is meant to be an airing of emotions, not an attack of any kind (including you, Genesis).

I really need that Starbucks job.

--B@rry

Simtower: Blessing....or curse?

I discovered my old copy of Simtower tonight. I found it at one in the morning, and it is now 6 AM. I was up all night building a giant computer building and trying to convince my tenants to stay so I can get a higher rating. I got a five star rating now (if any of y'all wanna live somewhere...), and I just need to build it up to 100 stories to get the almighty TOWER rating. The sucky part is that I build like a crazy person, and then people leave because "there isn't an elevator close enough." F you, little simulated whiners. Grow a pair.

You get quite the rush from Simtower. It's like what I picture oxy-coton to be like. Basically, I'm like Donald Trump, but without the bad hair, and then there is the fact that Simbucks aren't worth squat in the un-simulated world.



That's just a taste. I did make my tower the entire width of the screen, which must be like, 80 condos wide. And I stopped at 67 stories, with a population teetering around 10,000. It was a rough last half hour, cause I had like 1000 punks bail on me at once. I was sweating. I also started totally disregarding the look of the building, and placed elevators wherever there was room, and had a floor of movie theatres (showing simulated classics like "Last Christmas," "Man in a War," and "Planet Woka"). My head is swimming.

On the other hand, carpel tunnel would really suck.

--Barry, Professional (simulated) Real Estate Developer

Manic Monday

I hate the fact that my laptop screen has little dirt marks on it, and those marks, if in just the right spot, make periods look like commas, which really tickles my fancy. In a bad way. And I can't just wash off my laptop in the bathtub. That wouldn't be no good for nobody.

Tomorrow morning I have to get all ready for an interview at Starbucks. You could say a lot is riding on this. And I hear, if hired, I recieve a pound of free coffee per week. Huzzah! Fortunately, my charisma is the one thing I can rely on. And my hipness quotient will be increased exponentially if I get the job, I reckon.

This weekend was an alright time. In gearing up for 28 Weeks Later, I came up with an idea of prequel catch-up night funtime!!! where we viewed 28 Days Later on a friend's huge screen (I said I would find a copy of the movie, not actually allow people into my house). We basked in 28 Days' freaky zombies-on-cocaine glory. I do like that movie. The zombies are all fast and spastic-moving, so everyone has to run really, really fast. And then people re-animate in like 10 seconds, which means you have to bash your best bud in the face right away, before s/he can say, "Wait, he bit my cricket bat, not me."

Friday we chilled, played a game of Kings with retarded rules that I have never played with before. Not gonna lie, back in Chicago we played a game with a bunch of goofy rules, and then the guy with the last king was totally screwed. Here we played some pussy version where the loser just had to finish one can of beer, as opposed to chugging a large glass where the amount of beer was decided by the other guys who got the three previous kings (and occasionally someone would pour in a sick peach energy drink to really screw with your head). Not gonna lie, I was getting pretty pissed at everyone for not following the true rules. That night wasn't as fun as I thought it was gonna be, not gonna lie. People were getting kinda hostile, and that was making me all hostile, and that's bad for my chi. C'mon.

Saturday we ended up seeing a matinee of 28 Weeks Later, and I actually kinda liked the sequel. It had the crazy dude from Trainspotting, and still had plenty of schizo-zombies that made weird hand gestures as they chased down their prey. It also featured a helicopter piloted by the black dude from Lost chopping apart zombies (which, actually, I had already seen in Grindhouse. C'mon guys). It actually had some of the creepiest scenes I have ever seen. Picture navigating a pitch dark subway station using only the nightvision scope on a rifle. Whoa, dude.

Today went pretty well, lunch at this Chowder place in Waterville, which was filled with conversation regarding penis peircing (always classy). They had these sweet potato chip things that were covered with, get this, cinnamon. New addition to Barry's Stuff to Do Before Barry Dies: Figure out how to make these. We then walked all the food off at Sidecut Metro, and made multiple jokes about tufted titmice (hahahaha, dirty bird).

And then tomorrow I want to sell some old sport crap I found in my closet and get that Bucks job (see! I already know the lingo!). Good times.







New segment of this blog: SONG OF THE WEEK!!!!!
Week of May 20 [Drumroll]:
"ALFIE" by Lily Allen
British chick, upbeat song about slacker lil bro.
Video features puppet birds smoking joints.
Includes funny British words: Twat, computer pronounced "compewer", fi-id cap
Look it UP!!!!

Don't despair,
-Barry

Counting Flowers on the Wall

I have been home for a week and a day on this day.

I'm bored as f**k.

Plus, I'm really hungry, cause I'm dieting hardcore now. Ughhh.

Sorry, guys, I haven't been really good with posting. I've been to busy sleeping and thinking about cake.

I had to totally rearrange my room to fit all the new crap I got while in Chicago while rediscovering old crap. Then I've been job searching. And searching. I've put in like 7 applications, but haven't been called back for any. Even though it's only been like 6 days, it feels more like 6...years. Fortunately, I went into Starbucks and asked on the "status of my application," and the chick said I have an interview on Monday. Yes, I might become "Barry the Barista." It fits so well, they should give me the job on the spot.

Until then, it's lots of hummus and Adult Swim. Actually, my dad was featured at the Toledo Museum of Art, and I'm seeing the painting for the first time at the opening tonight. It's a painting of boots. Sounds exciting. I'm actually pretty intrigued to see how well he does.

Click here to download Madonna's newest single for free!!!!--http://liveearth.msn.com/green/Madonnadownload it's "meehhh, kinda acousticy."

Ho-hum,
barry

Just like Michael Buble says...

In around an hour, I should be headed home from here. Wow. It's been a trip.

It's still hitting me that I'm actually done with my freshman year. That rocks. So much.

I really need to bring more boxes--I had a really hard time packing up everything. And the fact that I didn't sleep at all last night didn't help. I hope I still don't have a blood alcohol level. That would suck. Good times.

See you in hell, Mertz.

Summer, meet Barry.

Freshman Year: Complete

A slight few minutes ago, I finished the last scholastic assignment of my freshman year of college. A philosophy paper that I started 12 hours ago (but I did see Spidey Tres in the middle of it).

To be honest, I can't really believe it is over. It has been of year of self-discovery and fun and pain and alright music.

Five things I've learn:

*Accepting the invitation of a 30-year-old dude to go over to his house is totally cool as long as you get free alcohol out it

*Don't call Southerners out on incest (especially if you are drunk and they are not)

*Don't attempt to traverse Minnesota in the middle of March

*Get creative in the dining hall (i.e. orange juice and Sprite)

*Sheets too small for your bed really suck

Yes, it's been a year of love, learning, and Lakeshore Dining. Good times. Good times for all.

Goodbye school, hello summer,

Barry. Is Outta Her.

P.S. I think this is a fitting photo to remember this last semester of freshman year by. I think it says, "Look at me, I have vampire incisors and I'm from Ireland (except not really)." Enjoy it, suckas:

Almost Home

Late Wednesday night I finished what could be the biggest school project I have ever done ever. I had to build this miniture set with tiny paper furniture for the play "No Exit." It's about hell, and by a Frenchman. This is what it looked like:

Yeah, I spent at least seven hours straight in Mundelien working on this crap. The day of the presentation, the costume designer here sat in. I went first, and she throughly thrashed my concept. Luckily, she did that to everyone else, too. There was a point where everyone just stopped trying to defend their idea and just took it right in the face. I fared better than some.

Life goes on. I wanted to not do any laundry for the rest of the year, but my boxers ran out. C'est la vie, as someone says. I gotta get to that.

One five page paper away from Michigan,

Barry "Jean-Paul" Eitel