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robotes_peligrosos
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Name: Miles
Country: United States
State: Massachusetts
Metro: Boston
Birthday: 11/6/1986
Gender: Male
Expertise: In the event of a water landing your seat cushion may be used as a flotation device.
even though the cushion does not inflate air is still rushing out of the cabin.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Hospitality
Message: message meEmail: email me
AIM:  conex6md
Member Since:
1/20/2004
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| I'm mostly over Here now.
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| This is all I have to offer right now. I hope you're well.
Goodbye
If you click the above image you can see the same image only much larger, and I recommend it.
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Step 1 Period Step 2 Backspace Step 3 Apostrophe
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Hosting a party – what a Thing. I’m curious to know who, in the deep and flawed recesses of the past, originated this idea. I know that my social bearings are pretty far off-course when compared to normal, "healthy" individuals, but still, let’s really look at this concept, and what it entails.
1. Clean up everything so everything looks nice for the
2. scads of people who are coming to your house to
3. eat the food someone (never me) worked very hard on but does not get to enjoy because
4. all the people are putting dirt on the floor and cups on the tables because they are
5. drinking all of your (not my) alcohol because and not paying for it and not wiping their shoes even though they
6. don’t know you (you, or me), or anyone who knows you yet they are inexplicably there (here) just as the
7. cops (cops!) arrive to tell you that your (not my) music is too loud and that the people in surrounding houses (grown-ups?) have come to
8. hate you (me, you, them, me again) because you (the people in the garage?) are disturbing their (grown-ups’) peace and quiet which is something that
9. you (me) can completely understand the need for because all you (me) really want to do is
10. go into your (my) room and lock the door and maybe have a few hundred quiet moments to one’s [your(my)]self.
And then everyone has something to say about it, and then some people are unhappy about this or that, but mostly everyone is very happy that I did not flip out and cause a scene and embarrass The Place and ruin The Evening because I guess that is what was expected of me. I guess I did alright.
I guess another independence day happened, and like some years, no plans were well-laid and nothing came together. The weather, a matter I feel like I’ve abstained from discussing for longer than usual, was like a trip to a water park – endlessly disappointing and colder and wetter in ways less pleasant than you’d expect. Residents of The Place and myself abandoned the notion of venturing into Boston to enjoy the rainy spectacle from the banks of the Charles, and opted instead to trudge dutifully to the roof of the library where, despite a distance of 5 or more miles and curtains of low-hanging clouds the city’s pyrotechnics were still visible. The roof was crowded with like-minded people, none of whom pretended to be enjoying themselves any more than me, which is something I really appreciated.
Something vaguely notable did happen earlier on during America’s birthday though. As I walked home from bummed-out central with head down and feet scuffling I noticed a large box leaning up against a tree on the sidewalk. On the box were many pictures of a keyboard, and lines of text with exclamation points with prominent use of the word MIDI. I stopped, curious, and gently nudged the box with my foot to see if it held anything within, and as I did so a man no more than 4 years my senior spoke to me from the front porch of the nearest house. He explained to me that the keyboard was all mine, and that, aside from lacking its pedal and being magnificently ancient, it was in perfect working order. So I picked the box up, and I carried it home. As yet I have been unable to turn the machine on, as it requires an absurd number of C batteries – a battery type I do not think any normal human people ever use for anything. Additionally it appears that none of the included cables will connect to my computer, as the thing is from a time before USB became a standard situation for anything with 1 microchip and a basic LED screen. Despite these seemingly impossible setbacks I am determined to make something of this discovery. I feel like finding a keyboard on the side of the road is the main first step in recording a very remarkable album. I guess you’ll just have to stay tuned…
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| Just down the street there’s a convenience store. I think it’s called "Bill’s Food Shop," but it’s hard to tell because the lettering on the sign has faded to the point that the only clearly legible word is "Bill’s." This is only half the sign, as the other half is a still-clear Coca-Cola logo, so you can tell just from looking at the place that it’s alright. They probably sell all kinds of stuff inside, but I wouldn’t know as I only ever get as far as the cooler with the soda in it, which happens to be approximately 2 steps from the door. A 20 oz. soda costs $1.25, which while not ideal is still reasonable, and results in me treating the establishment like a sort of walk-in vending machine, as they only really have one kind of product in which I’m interested. The store is also connected to a residence that I can only assume is occupied by the family by which the business is run. This by itself is not important, but the family owns a cat that can frequently be found sitting on the sidewalk immediately in front of the building. Now, having spent the last month with a number of girls who, at the sight of essentially any dog, break into a chorus of affection-filled phonemes and having consequently spent the last month deriding such behavior it’s taken a lot of personal willpower not to emulate such cooing at the site of this cat. Because it is very adorable. When I walked by the store earlier today it was chasing a bug around, leaping and grabbing at it. I am glad the store with the cat is nearby.
I am happy with the tap water in the house. I have never been the kind of person who is especially particular about tap water, but I never really trusted what came out of the sinks in the dorm’s bathrooms – I mean, if the institution admits terrible students who are generally harmful to themselves and others who’s to say they don’t let all manner of toxins into their water? This logic is easy to argue with but difficult to ignore. Regardless, things are better now, here. Here I have a blue Dixie cup that I have been drinking from for the past two and a half weeks. Don’t worry, I wash it regularly. It would be better if it were green, but I can overlook this cosmetic shortcoming for now. Our ice cube tray makes ice in the shape of gumdrops and this is okay. This works.
That’s all.
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