Scar tissue that I wish you saw

After Aaron did the digital equivalent of tagging my site, I thought I would help clarify the first point in my altered image: "Everyone...thinks I'm depressed." Well, you would be depressed too if you had to have your penis dilated today. Or, if you're a girl, if you HAD a penis and it was dilated today.

Yes yes...yet another dilation. No need for any explanations since I've told it all before. But THIS time I got some pictures! Sorry for the quality, I had to take a screenshot of a video image of a phone picture.

First picture: The Bed



Note the stirrups. This is where the torture takes place.


Second picture: The Tools



Note that large curved chunk of metal on the left. That's what they put inside of me.


Now pity me.

My Postsecret

I Think Hotmail Screwed Up Again

I was checking my e-mail and I glanced over at the daily news articles as I am apt to do and I saw this:





Wait...I'm not really sure how kissing ended up as one of the 10 most dangerous jobs. Heck, I wasn't even aware that it was a job at all! I'm going to have to look into this.

You Can't be Serious...Can You?

Yesterday I saw a bumper sticker that proclaimed this:

"The only way to get rid of temptation is to cave in to it."

Sigh...

Not only is this not witty or funny, it's just plain stupidity.

Oh well...whatever helps you sleep better at night.

Disenchanted Youth vs. Glorious Imagination: Round 1...FIGHT

I found this today:




I can't decide if this is incredibly endearing, or a mistake that will lead to future complications.

You decide.

"After living in the dark for so long a glimpse of light can make you giddy. Strange thoughts come into your head and you better think them. Has a special fate been calling you and you're not listening? Is there a secret message right in front of you and you're not reading it? Is this your last chance? Are you gonna take it? Or are you going to the grave with unlived lives in your veins?"

The Red Hat Ladies Strike Again

I can't be more specific than saying, "there's a whole lot of them."

They came like a torrent of purple pants, purple vests, purple blouses, purple purses, purple shoes, and purple jackets. Their colorful nametags an obvious sign of hours of work. Their faces wrinkled, varicose veins everywhere, walkers crowding the walkway, and constant complaints about how cold it was despite the quite average temperature. Plus the hats.

Oh, we can't forget the hats.

Each lady sported her own style through a red hat. Some with berets, some with bowlers, and some with flamboyant ribbons and feathers. Comments floated around like, "Oh! You added a feather to your hat!"

There were 18 of them today, but the number fluctuates wildly.

If you ever see them...be nice. They each have a household of trained killer cats.

Hmm...Parachutes?

The Word of the Day is: Catharsis

Yesterday, around lunch time, I was hungry. Chad was at a class reunion in San Jose, so he wasn't around to make really good food that I could steal some of like usual. This left me to fend for myself in the big world of...food. Big world of food? I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore.

The point is that I somehow ended up at a Weinerschnitzel drive-through. No, wait...don't ask me how it happened. I honestly don't remember making the decision. I was just suddenly there and would have felt bad to just drive through and not order.

So I ate a chili cheese burger, a chili cheese hotdog, and french fries. No, there was no chili or cheese on the fries...though that might have been good. I mean, why stop at the burger and hotdog?

Later I remembered why my natural tendency is to stay away from that place. My stomach was thoroughly confused by the horrible horrible (though very tasty) food that I had consumed. Needless to say, I felt a little sick.

And I just made the realization that I don't really know why I'm telling this story. I think Aro is rubbing off on me.

I don't know how to end this now...maybe with a moral or lesson.

And the moral of the story is...THIS is really disturbing

EDIT: I just realized that if you check that site out, all of the large sized boxers are sold out. Only medium are left. What does that tell you about people who eat there?

xoxo, Grant


p.s. I'm feeling a little queasy tonight as well...though not due to Weinerschnitzel

I PASSED COLLEGE!




That's right. After being the only grad student ever to be three weeks into the program despite not having technically graduated (stupid Chapman), I have finally been introduced into the world of those bestown with a BFA.

Hmm...I feel much less special than I expected.

Oh well...drinks on me!

Now I know how it feels...

Brea is having it's annual jazz festival. That means that our restaurant is amazingly busy compared to the usual flow of pedestrian traffic. So we add 8 tables. All 8 tables can be split into 2 tables. This means the outside area is up to 16 tables large.

And I had that whole section.

I'm sorry, but 16 four-tops or 8 eight-tops is simply not feasible.

Five and a half hours later I was finally finished. Exhausted and sweaty and feeling half dead I left the restaurant and headed towards my truck. I park behind a Vons. A walked in front of a massive white truck on massive black wheels with a massive black grill and thought to myself..."oh, some punk guy in his huge white truck trying to compensate for...well, you know."

Then a girl leaned out the window and screamed something to the extent of, "Ooooooh, hotty body!"

I ignored the remark seeing as how it was probably aimed at somebody else.

The girl (girls actually) then yelled out, "Nice hair hotty body!" So I assumed that it was possibly aimed at me since I do have the slight faux-hawk thing going on and I was the only one around. I walked to my car and the massive white truck with the amazingly drunk girls pulled around and stopped in front of my truck and two girls leaned out the window and started yelling again. Something like, "Hotty body! Wooooo!" And then something inappropriate enough that I won't put it on my site.

I raised my hand in a waving gesture and said, "Hi there."

I didn't know what else to say.

They drove off and without knowing gave me my very first drive-by catcall experience. I've met so many girls who say they hate it and that it's degrading and all that jazz (no pun intended), but truthfully, I found it more flattering than anything. Ok ok, so they were drunk girls in a massive truck, but still...I'll take my flattery where I can get it.

I was just sitting here...

...eating my skirt steak out of a styrofoam container...cutting it with a boot knife...when I realized something. This site is now 4 years old. So for 4 years I have been romping around on the internet letting everyone know too much about myself. So in honor of my site's birthday, I thought I'd recap what happened on or around this day for the past 4 years. Kinda like those episodes of Boy Meets World where they couldn't come up with a good script so they just had 3 characters sit in a room and reminisce over Corry and Topenga's torrid relationship while constantly cutting to really long flashbacks in order to fill up the half hour.

Grant's Boy-Meets-World-Style Flashback Post!


September 8th 2001

"Hi. I'm Grant. I now have a website. Why? I don't really know. But I have one."

And since then...I have faithfully held true to that fact. I don't know why I have a website...but I have one. The best part is, 13 days later I gave up and wrote a "final post" about not knowing what I was doing and so I was going to live vicariously through Ed and Aro's sites. I guess I'm not too big on sticking to my word.



September 8th 2002

"Utter chaos is reigning supreme here at Chapman"

At this time, Aro was (like this was unusual) playing with his food and spilling large amounts of chocolate colored drink on himself, our room was full of so much band equipment that we had to hurdle it just to get to our beds, I was getting put in the trunk of cars when there wasn't enough room to fit everyone (Thanks Megan), and our makeshift shelf housing silverware and videogame systems exploded in the middle of the night. Just a normal day in the Gamma Alpha Epsilon house.



September 3rd 2003

"Shaving 101 for the Depressed"

I guess I didn't write on the 8th. And oooh...I started doing titles! This was a long rant about people who cut themselves and put pictures of it online and show off their supposed pain and give tips on how to better cut yourself. I was pissed off.

"In other news....I spent the night eating éclairs and playing Track and Field for Nintendo. Oh man...too much fun."



September 8th 2004

"Seriously...does this kind of thing happen to everyone or is there some practical joke group out there specifically assembled to put me in unbelievable situations?"

This was a story about how I got hit by a car while riding my skateboard on my way to my first day of class.



September 8th 2005

Well, this is happening right now, so I'm not sure why I put a title there. And I'm amazed no penis surgery stories happened on those dates. I think that topic has been discussed more than anything else on here.

I want to make a huge list of all the great and not so great things that have happened over the last 4 years. If you have a good memory, or story, or anything at all, PLEASE comment it! I want to remember all these things.

Here's to 4 years.

It was 11:11 but I simply stared at the numbers till 11:12.

I had no wishes.

Oh Grow Up....No Wait...Don't

I go into work through a back door that's located in a alley. It's a dirty alley. Not the kind of place you'd really want to hang out.

Tonight I walked out the back door into the yellow glow of the overhead lights and there, in the corner, directly in front of me as I opened the door, were three people. A guy and two girls.

They were having sex.

Well, at least two of them were.

I opened the door to the guy yelling out, "Oh sh*t!" and trying to pull up his pants. One of the girls immediately turned red. I simply kept walking without giving them a second glance.

They had lookouts down the alley where I head to get to my car. Three guys with skateboards. They started laughing. I passed by and one of them said, "You totally saw that didn't you?" I simply nodded and kept walking. As I passed them, one of the guys yelled, "They were fu*king back there!" I responded with, "No worries" and kept walking.

Now...what other people do is of no concern to me. Except that they were all around 14 years old. At the oldest. One of them might have been 15. No joke.

When I was 15, I was wearing sweater-vests and had just gotten rid of my comb-over, braces, and glasses. I was going to school. I was going to friend's houses and watching movies and maybe going out to eat with my family. I wasn't having sex in back alleys.

I am deeply saddened over the complete loss of what it means to be a kid.

Take it from a Hypocrite, You don't want to do That

Thanks to Aro Aro and his dream about marriage, I've had one of my own. Though mine seems much more bizarre, at least to me.

Fade To Dream Sequence:

Everything is dark and blue and black and shadowed. S and T are standing in a room with K and myself. S has just proposed to T, though I somehow missed the proposal. Then he breaks out into a poem about her and marrying her. I only remember the basic concept of one part of the poem:

My fish heads are fresh and sealed
Yours have been tasted and I'm sure were delicious

I was standing in front of K, who was sitting in a stone throne of sorts. She jokingly said, "I guess this is where you would propose to me..." and I dropped to one knee. She seemed amazingly surprised.

I was looking up at her, but she wasn't just a little bit above me, it was as if I was looking up a mile just to see her face.

I said something along the lines of, "Sorry I'm going to get really sappy here..." and expressed my eternal, undying love and how she was everything I had ever wanted forever and ever. She seemed so happy.

As we started walking away, K turned into C. This didn't strike me as odd at the time. But suddenly I knew I had made a mistake in proposing. It would never work. What was I thinking? I had been hasty and had disregarded the things I knew would get in the way. C asked me why it wouldn't work and I didn't even say anything, I simply pointed over my shoulder at the monstrous, looming entity behind me. She understood.

The next morning she woke me up. It was still dark and blue and I couldn't really see her face. I avoided her for a few days simply because I didn't want to tell her I had made a mistake in proposing. Who does that? Taking a proposal back. You can't do that.


Fade Out Of Dream Sequence


This all makes sense to me. That was probably uninteresting enough, so I won't go into self-psychoanalyzing at this point in time.