The De-Evolution of the Prolle-Sodaro Elevator

--permit expires early January
--more sudden bumps and jerks are noticable
--grate that covers the fan-vent goes missing, leaving spinning blade bare
--second floor light goes out, leaving elevator riders to magically go from floors 1 to 3
--permit still not updated...therefore lack of safety check for over 3 months
--scratching sound against the door audible when passing from floors 1 to 2, meaning something is stuck in the elevator shaft
--even more sudden bumps and jerks are noticable
--bare fan now whirring louder, seeming like it could come flying down into the elevator at any moment
--permit still not updated

The moral of this story? It doesn't matter how dangerous the elevators are...I'll still take them instead of walking up four flights of stairs.

Breakfast Epiphanies played one of their weirdest "concerts" yet. We were in a gym with a bunch of sorority and fraternity guys playing volleyball. This means that in the middle of a solo, a volleyball would come hurtling at my head, making it necessary to deftly swat the ball away and continue playing and try to not miss a beat. It was really not as fun as it sounds. But they gave us free t-shirts and a bag of trail mix. So now everyone can think I'm a frat-boy. Oh wait...that's not a good thing.

It's time to complain about boxers/underwear. I'm sure women have plenty more to complain about with bras and high-heeled shoes, but that in no way belittles my oh-so-revolutionary thoughts on men's undergarments. Here's the deal...I'm a guy, and have been just that since I can remember. In this 20 year existence as a guy, I have never once heard a guy say that he uses the little flap. You know what I'm talking about. The underwear/boxer flap. You know how women always say that high-heels and bras must have been invented by men? Well...the underwear flap must have been created by a woman. She (who we will name Hilda for the sake of argument) was creating underwear and thought to herself, "Hmm...men, just like women, must urinate every once in a while. But wait...they have those little floppy things they use to urinate. It would be so inconvenient for them to have to pull their underwear down when the need to urinate strikes, so I'll make them a flap! Hilda...you're a genius!" Hilda, however, was not a genius. She overlooked the fact that with a small tug, underwear or boxers can be pulled down just enough to allow one to urinate. Plus...there are two major problems with the ever so wanna-be-genius flap.

1) Even if guys were to utilize the flap...those little buttons or snaps make it that much more difficult. Not only would I have to unbutton and unzip my pants (and belt, if I'm wearing one), but then I would have to unbutton the flap and dig around inside...just to pee. Not worth it.

2) I have three pairs of boxers with no button on the flap. This would alleviate the problem of having to unbutton an extra button, but it leaves one more problem. Things don't always stay contained if there is a wide open flap on the front of one's boxers. If I were wearing these boxers, and only these boxers, and was in public...let's just say that there is a good chance that, with a small amount of walking or movement on my part, people would get to see more than their fare share of my anatomy.

I say...get rid of the flap. It just causes problems. And it just confuses the heck out of me when I see women's underwear with the flap. Come on...let's make life a little easier and free ourselves from the horror of the underwear flap.


p.s. I have some bad news. I was just informed that Aaron and Josh both use the "pee-flap." My whole theory has been abolished. Oh well...I'm posting this bad boy anyway.

I have this theory. It's really not so much a theory, but a pet peeve. Or more so just an observance that I think others should think about. Why do we spend so much on the deceased? Now before I get a bunch of angry comments...I will just use myself as the subject here. To quote the Crash Test Dummies..."I'm still young...but I know my days are numbered...1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and so on. But a time will come when these numbers have all ended..." At this point, my family will have a choice. On average, a $4,500 to $5,500 choice. 1) I could have my eyes removed and replaced with silicone balls and then sewn shut, my internal organs removed and my blood drained and replaced with a formaldehyde-like liquid, my lips sewn shut, and makeup put on me so everyone can look at me in a casket. 2) I could be put in a huge furnace for half an hour, have some strangers prod through my ashes and the lumps of calcium-deposit left, looking for any metal objects put in during surgeries, have a metal detector scan the ashes for fillings, then be put in a large blender to turn me into a fine powder, and finally be put in a jar so everyone can look at "me" on a mantel. or 3) I can be put in a big hole in the backyard and help some flowers grow better.

I choose 3.

The only thing I can figure out is that people are afraid of what happens after death and therefore take immaculate care of the deceased body since that is "all that is left." I myself am certain of what will happen to me after death, so who cares what happens to my body? All that will be left is a body...no mind...no soul...no me. I don't need a fancy casket, a plot of ground overlooking an incredible view, a new tuxedo, or a big production. All I want is for the people who cared to sit around, cry only if necessary, and then talk a little about who I was in life. Save the money and buy something.

Wow...that was kind of depressing. I promise you I'm not sad and depressed right now. I'm just confused as to why I'll have all that money spent on me after I'm dead. OOOH! Give me the money now and then I'll be able to appreciate it much more.

And on some much less death-like news...I'm going to bed...and I'm totally psyched about it!

E-bay is gonna get me into trouble. Because of good ol' E-bay I now have not one...but two polaroid cameras. "Why Grant", you might ask, "would you need two polaroid cameras?" This is a question that I just cannot answer. The only thing I can say is that the first one didn't have a flash and I wanted a flash. Or maybe I wanted to take a picture of my polaroid...but obviously needed another polaroid to take a picture of my first polaroid. Wait...what if I want to take a picture of my two polaroid cameras side by side? Then I'll need another one. Egads! I have been caught in a viscious endless loop of buying crap I don't need! Oh well. In the meantime you can enjoy a better (but blurrier) picture of me, my shaved head, my crappy computer, my plastic crow, and a can of coke or two.

I totally just shaved my head.

I felt just like Richie Tenenbaum...only I wasn't planning on slitting my wrists afterwards.