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Category: Social
Thursday, April 3rd, 2003 @ 02:33 pm
Posted By Brent
Friends, for a while now we've had a visitor to our comfy abode here at glitch13.com. While his familiarity with us, affinity for the White Stripes, and wicked redbeanish sense of humor may lend credibility to him actually being someone we know, I have yet to get anyone to crack under my torturous inquisition. And by that I mean when I'm drunk and asking Scott and Pete whether or not they know who the hell he is.

For those of you who have no idea who I'm talking about, I speak of the mystery man that goes by the moniker "Niel Armstrong". Of course, this isn't the only name he's gone by, he changes names like some of us change crab shampoos: Niel Armstrong, Louis Cifer, Evil Fix with goatee, Assman, Hershel Liebermatzahberg, cuddlemonster, Lohacla Suolovram (my personal favorite), 2dope, and Super hippie, to name but a few.

Perhaps I'm ahead of myself by posting this. Maybe, he's someone we know and he's always assumed we knew it was him because the subject of his identity has never been broached before.

I for one believe he wraps his anonymity around him like a protective shroud, occasionally snipping us with venom and humor. I always figured it was Gerald or Niki or someone else 'of the fold' that enjoyed antagonizing the masses here, if only in short stints. That was until I took notice of the most puzzling aspect of this caper: the originating address. It seems Niel posts from somewhere in that far off land of the LSU dormitory, or at least he only posts from somewhere on Campus. That combined with the fact the he posts with a frequency that does not paint a picture of a person that commutes from New Orleans, the only logical solution is that he lives in Baton Rouge.

And this is where, as they say, the plot thickens. Using my Sherlock Holmsian logic and powers of deduction, I have come to the conclusion that I don't know anyone who lives in Baton Rouge, and of the aquantances I do have there, none match the mental profile I have so meticulously pieced together.

So, unless he chooses to reveal himself, I suppose this will become one of the mysteries of the ages....


Category: Social
Friday, March 28th, 2003 @ 12:42 pm
Posted By Brent
Welly welly well. Seems I may attend the esteemed annual Crawfish Festival in glorious St. Bernard. At least that was the last I heard from our Chalmette contingency. This should be a change from last weekend when I had to take a hammer to the piggy bank just to be able to bring beer to the crawfish burl at Ian's house.

Not that I'm rolling in it now, seeming as last week's promise of the big bucks didn't seem to happen in time for my most recent paycheck, but I'm willing to live with that. Or at least wait until everyone forgets about the HUGE FUCKING NIGHTMARE I caused at work on Wednesday when I gleefully deleted the entire contents of the company database. Of course it was an accident, and of course we got it back up and running almost as if nothing had happened, but still, people don't look kindly on shit like that.

So, anyway, back to the crawdads. What time is this happening? Who's coming? Should I wear my new dress?

If I'm not mistaken, which I almost always am, is this not the same festival in which me and Ian beheld the awesomitude of the Bag O' D for the first time last year? If so, unfortunately as you can see on their site, they are not playing this one.


Category: Social
Thursday, January 30th, 2003 @ 12:33 pm
Posted By Brent
My 'Dock' hymen was busted a couple weeks ago when a group of us went to go see Bag of Donuts play there. The place was pretty big, but it was packed. And I mean shoulder to shoulder, wait in line for an hour for 1 beer, I don't care what you think, you're not peeing at all kinda packed.

Even besides that, It didn't seem like my kinda bar. It had the whole Florida tourist trap bar kinda appeal, like you wouldn't be suprised if you could buy one of those oh-so-witty hats that says "I Hate Seagulls" with fake bird shit splattered all over them.

Anyway, I was forced to go again on Tuesday, due to my girlfriend giving her solemn word to a guy she's seen probably 10 times in her life, that she would see his band play. I would be worried about that, if I were less of a man, but as it happens, me being less of a man is a statistical impossibility. Luckily enough, we were able to trick a small gaggle of friends to come along to share our grief -- and knowing the type we slum with, we now have a couple more friends from whom we can expect retribution from, post haste.

So, if you're wondering what the basic rundown was, here goes: The band we came to see sucked. The band that played after them was better, but still sucked. We got really drunk on a Tuesday. If you don't wear underwear, and don't shake enough after peeing, you sometimes get a little wet spot on the front of your jeans. It doesn't matter how drunk you are, if you drink enough ice water to the point of physical pain before you go to sleep, you most probably will not wake up with a hangover.


From the Bag o' D Show:

From the Craptastic Tuesday:


Category: Social
Saturday, January 25th, 2003 @ 07:49 pm
Posted By Brent
I know its superbowl weekend and all, but I had to get this in, for posterity, if for nothing else. Last weekend we, and by that I mean the 'cool people', decided it was a great day to go to the zoo. Animals were seen and beer was drank. All in all we had quite a swell time.

Of course, going to the zoo comes with its little worries. Will a monkey decide to fling poop on me? Will a ..., ok, well, the monkey poop-flinging is about at the top of my list, but no, that didn't happen. However, I did get nachos, or as the nacho booth spelled it, 'Nachoe's". Yes, that's an 'e' on the end. And yes, that and apostrophe before the 's'. I should be posting things like this within a closer temporal vicinity of the actual occurence, seeming as I'm sure there were more anecdotes I could share with you, but looking though the beer haze, and a full week of work, this was all I could come up with.

It was also my inagural 'trip' to anywhere of importance with my new digital camera. So, there's a shitload more pictures than you'll see here, but being my first real picture taking experience with it, I took a great many. If I were to show them all, the server would surely smoke and pop.


Category: Social
Thursday, November 28th, 2002 @ 11:30 am
today's thanksgiving so it's time to give thanks. i googled up a picture of a thanksgiving dinner and at first found it to be quite suitable.

these people are all probably family and/or friends, which i'm thankful for. they seem to be sort of well off, so i'm guessing they're employed, and that's something i'm thankful to be. nobody seems to be wearing a military uniform, and i'm thankful to not be also.

but then i realized something. there are a few things missing. so a little more googling and some photoshopping yielded a more correct picture.

now, we have a bottle of whiskey on the table. that's because i'm thankful for whiskey. and although jim beam is depicted, that doesn't mean i'm not thankful for all the other brands of whiskey. it just means that jim beam was the first bottle of whiskey i found. like three pages into the mess. i'm not thankful for all the people who named their pets whiskey and took pictures of them and put those pictures on the net. those people made my job pretty tedious. so fuck them.

also there is the guy holding the guitar. that represents rock'n'roll, which i am eternally thankful for. i guess the lady sitting next to him is dressed like a member of the white stripes fan club, and i'm certainly thankful for the stripes. but i think that's kind of a stretch. her being in their fan club, not my being thankful for them.

the dreamcast is there because i'm thankful for it. it rules like eight sheets in the wind. and once i've got the practice of burning discs for it down pat it will rule even more. emulators, mp3's, vcd's, and maybe even divx will all be thomping through my dreamcast and proving how badass it is. yea, i am verrily thankful.

the jet grind radio guy might seem redundant, but he's not. although i play that awesome kickass game on my dreamcast, jet grind radio is a pleasure unto itself. and if it weren't for jet grind radio i probably wouldn't have bought the dreamcast. so i'm totally thankful for jet grind radio.

not pictured is my scooter. although it rules and i'm way way way thankful for it, i couldn't include a scooter in the picture because it is rude to park your scooter in the dining room, especially when there's a family dinner going on. but still, i'm thankful for the voot and the pleasures obtained while riding it.

the end.


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