Announcement: New University to Solve Education Crisis

For immediate release:

California is the worst place in America to be a college student!

Not anymore.

Let me announce to you the creation of the world’s first and newest University:

Introducing:

Greatest School University

We aim to revolutionize college and the way you think about college.

Our school colors are hot pink and neon green, and everyone gets to dye their hair at orientation.

Our mascot is vaguely phallic and also totally feminine.

Our specialty majors include studying things regarding the creation of new and exciting objects and theories.

Why didn’t Crispin Glover return for Back to the Future 2 and 3?

Our crack team of researchers are doing the most wonderful innovations on all sorts of technology, and we plan to release new technology everyday.

But perhaps what’s most exciting about Greatest School University is how awesome it is.

Perhaps you would enjoy our state of the art tennis courts?

Greatestschooluniversity.edu

On Eighteenth Century British Literature

Eighteenth Century British writers were fucking pompous as all hell, believing so strongly in how smart and quote witty unquote they were that they forgot the fact that they are all dead now. All of them are dead and they will never be not dead again, becuase the eighteenth century was like 7000 years ago judging by how fast time moves now in this media centered age we live in. Hey Alexander Pope, you deformed witless sexist brute, you’ve been dead for a fucking long time now, so why do I have to spend my precious Sunday afternoon writing about you? Because you’re a dickhead who fooled a bunch of ignorant Brits into reading you before anyone knew what good writing actually was, and now people who study English are stuck with you. Thanks a fucking lot.

Places I’ve Never Been To, But Imagine I’d Like and Love to Live in

# 1: Miami

I think if I lived in Miami I’d wear really comfortable clothing, and drink all these really strong drinks, and just dance all the fucking time. Like all the time dancing, eating breakfast, dancing, changing the cat’s litter box, dancing, and I’d have this sweet car and I’d drive on freeways and shit.

# 2: Mexico City

In Mexico City I would just eat really cheap awesome food all day, and I’d get fat on all that amazing food and just drink all the fucking time, and I’d do all these amazing esoteric paintings and go on trips to Mazatlan and buy stock in Pacifico.

# 3: South of France

I can imagine myself going to the beach topless, and then driving my amazing car to the casino for a high stakes game of baccarat and I’d just drink so many awesome smooth cocktails, and in my villa I’d watch the sunset every day, then I’d stay up all night walking introspective walks on the beach until the sun came up and I’d watch the sunrise and try not to puke.

# 4: Tokyo

Oh man, if I lived in Tokyo I would have this really sweet apartment in some futuristic high rise, where I’d install this fucking state of the art multimedia center where I’d just play cutting edge video games, and at night I’d drink sake and/or American whiskey and perform karaoke for five of my closest friends.

Blue

Then one day I just saw thousands of people diving up into the sky. They all had perfect form, I mean their dives were just immaculate. Some did somersaults, some did these really amazing flips that were also twists. And then, in the sky, everyone was just swimming and the water was just the deepest blue, bluer than anything off the gulf coast. So I started crying. And I just cried.

Choruses for songs

Here are the choruses for two songs currently in production by an unsigned/unknown band out of a place you’ve never been to?:

Chorus # 1:

I am the mayor.
I am the mayor.
I am the mayor.
I am the mayor.

Chorus # 2:

Where’d I get my sexy cat
At…The…Shel…Ter
Where’d I get my sexy cat
At…The…Shel…Ter

Check back for DIY instructions on how and why to play these songs yourself.

OMG! This is such a good idea for a book!

I just had an incredible idea, it’s for a book, and I think it will be the best selling book of all time. It’s Called:

1,000,000 Things You Must Do Before You Die An Extremely Painful, Long and Drawn Out Death From a Horrible Case of Cancer, or Before You Get Alzheimer’s and Forget You Even Have Anything, Or Before Your Kids Put You In a Nursing Home that Doesn’t Let You Go Out—Even On Weekends, and If You Don’t Do These Things I’m Pretty Sure Most People Will Consider Your Life To Be a Complete Waste, and You Will Die Knowing That You Failed at Everything You’ve Ever Tried To Accomplish, But If You Do These Things, You Might Regain a Modicum of Self-Respect Because You Did These 1,000,000 Amazing Things, The First of Which Is Buying This Book, Or Do You Want Everyone Else To Know How Pathetic You Are When They Come To Your House and See That You Don’t Have This Book On Your Shelf? Because the First Thing They’ll Do When They Go Into Your Living Room is Check For It.

By Kevin LaRose

Speaking in foreign languages.

I think it would be hard to learn another language because I am worried then that I would cease to be me, and then would be another person, a bilingual or trilingual or octolingual person(heaven forbid), and that would probably make me an asshole because I would speak so many languages and how many languages do you speak? Huh? That’s right, you speak only one language, how pathetic, why can’t you take the time to learn another language? Are you so proud, so egoistical that you truly believe that everyone else must learn your language, that they should rise or fall to your level, in order to communicate with you? Do you really think that you are worth it to anyone else to try so hard to be able to speak with you, that you really have anything meaningful to say? You should really come down off your high horse and learn another language.

That is why I should never learn another language. Look what it does to me.

Plant Biologists

What I want to say is that plants are biologists and they’ve figured out some amazing secrets and I wish I could make my own food, I wish I could perform pizzasynthesis, also I wish I could ferment my own saliva into awesome microbrewed beer, but it wouldn’t be as gross as it sounds. Life processes always make me feel uncomfortable.

Another thing that makes me uncomfortable are enormous missionaries for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, who sit on the metro staring at me and passing around mint gum. And here I am thinking of witty retorts to blow them off with should they approach me with their enormous bulk. I’m a little tired, so I didn’t come up with anything great. I think the best thing was I would just give them finger and walk awkwardly away, but they’re probably nice people in spite of everything else. That would just hurt their poor little feelings, and I’d end up being the asshole. Religious people can be so sensitive sometimes.

Things I’ve never done, part 1

I’ve never snorted coke off a stripper’s ass.

I’ve never held a baby in my arms and wished for the day I’d have one of my own.

I’ve never thrown the ashes of my grandfather off of a cliff and into the Mediterranean.

I’ve never washed an El Camino whilst wearing a bikini, covering my self in sexy, sexy suds.

I’ve never rode a horse into the sunset, turning my back on my Native American lover and our lovechild, my first born son.

I’ve never.

Gene Ween Solo, Alone

Being that I have been home alone for the last two weeks, I have been getting a little too reclusive in my apartment not wanting to venture out by myself, save, of course, for school and the occassional beer and liquor run (which I have kept to a minimum by buying in bulk). Last night though, I decided that I would be brave, and traversed the ten or so blocks from my house to The Independent to see Gene Ween perform solo.

What can I say being a suburban kid in the middle of nowhere, when I was a teen Ween was such a breath of fresh air, or scotchguard at least, and I’m not sure if I could have made it out alive if it wasn’t for the way that they dealt with issues such as boredom, alienation, etc., in their lighthearted, satirical way. Back in ‘99 when I first started going to their shows, the crowd was usually made up of some fucking thick smelling sausage dudes, bald or whatever with poorly fitting jeans, and they liked to hang out at record stores I’m sure. This was before the invasion of all those dreadlocked hippies, who started to multiply like the bacteria growing in their unwashed hair and armpits.

The crowd at the show last night was so weird, in a way it was awesome to be around so many people who knew every fucking word to ‘Marble Tulip Juicy Tree,’ but also it was obnoxious because there were all these geeky brahs who thought it would be impressive to call out the most random, obscure Ween b-side in an attempt to prove who was the biggest bestest fan. Then there were the burly brahs standing behind me who were fucking narrating the whole show like it was a porno, “ahh yeah, he’s doing it, oh my god, yeah fuck.” What the fuck is that all about? What is with people who can’t shut their mouths for just one tiny second, what the hell are they so afraid of? That they’ll disappear?

Despite that, or in spite of that, or whatever, Papa Gener was incredible, and he’s getting so old and when I saw him I was like oh this is going to suck, but it didn’t suck, at all, not by any standard of the imagination. He was so gracious, and could whip the crowd into a frenzy or totally make the room a nice, calm place to enjoy a show in the matter of an instant. He only played Ween songs, too, so it was like Ween unplugged.

He was funny, but you have to understand, underneath all that funny is depth, and I started thinking about all these people I knew that died, and I got very sentimental and I almost cried listening to “Voodoo Lady,” and during “The Grobe” even. I didn’t though, because some dudebro started yelling at someone who kept farting, and it was going to take me a long time to get back to a place where I could feel anything but anger at such obnoxious behaviour, but I got over it, and I almost decided to go to the show again tonight, but I don’t think I could handle two nights of hyper-masculinity in a row, no matter how good Gene Ween was.