FOOTBALL!

Just kidding! I'm not going to talk about football! Had you going there, huh! Heh! No seriously, the latest BCS standings, they're uhhh...they're great. Just great. Ok, for real, that's all I'm saying about football. Because, as we know, the real Holden, who you all know and love (most of you), really actually doesn't care about football, and this is all pretend. Or is it that I simply have a well-defined sense of justice, and whenever I smell abuse thereof, it makes me bark. Madly. And then I snarl, as mad barking dogs are prone to do. Will there ever be justice? In anything?

I've come to the conclusion that there cannot be justice. Which I find disheartening, as I pledged a thousand times during my elementary and high school years that the ideals of the American flag would bring justice to all. And when I say justice, I mean...Justice. Justice Dirickson.

I've made plans to create a story entitled, 'Justice: An American Hero," as well as a quirkier sequel entitled, "Hot Tubbing with Justice: An Unlikely Story,' which is based on Beau Stucki's personal account of actually hot-tubbing with the man himself.

There you have it. That was the whole point of this blog. Is that crazy or what? You thought this was all about football? Get out of here. I don't even like football. I've been putting on a show with all of you.

The Superior Thoracic Aperture Band Rides Again

So I only just realized that I can check the stats on my blog, and apparently (and most randomly), the Philippines is the second most visiting country of my blog next to the United States. Do people from the Philippines like me? Because I certainly like them. Not as much as I like Tennesseans though. They're so cute and cuddly and they get the cutest little scrunched up faces when they're angry about dang Mormons. Aw.

In other news...I've decided to get into model airplane building. And I want to be some sort of dessert connoisseur. Cupcakes, maybe. I think I'm going to make some specialty cupcakes tonight. And I held a lung today in my anatomy lab. It was kinda gross. It was basically just a slimy bag. Oh yeah, and I poked a liver. A real liver. Sitting in a cadaver's abdomen. And I poked his brachial artery too. Speaking of brachial artery, I am reminded of the movie "Cellular" which I watched just last week with my dear wife. There was a part where a kidnapped woman stabbed a bad guy in his brachial artery, and then she escaped as he fell down and bled to death. And as she ran away, he muttered these infamous last words: "YOU BIH!" Excellent dialogue right there. Top notch. I've considered making those my last words as well, no matter what circumstance I may be in when I die.

Jason Statham, from the side-splitting romantic comedy Cellular. If you imagine it just right, you can picture him in this shot actually about to break out into uproarious laughter over something, rather than wanting to shoot somebody in the head 50 times.

Also in other news, I heard, for the very first time, the song "Alan's Psychedelic Breakfast" by Pink Floyd, and I think it's the most wonderful song ever. I highly recommend it. It's about a guy eating breakfast, and it has three separate instrumental parts, separated by segments of hearing Alan talking about breakfast foods he likes, cooking eggs, pouring cereal, eating the food, and then leaving the kitchen. I don't think I could've ever come up with something so creative. I'm dead serious. You think I'm not, but I am.


THE END

We All Want to be Loved

I don't think anyone gets addicted to TEXTING.

I think people have a desire to communicate. I think that's a basic human desire. It's funny how I was so against cell phone 4-5 years ago, and always judging my friends for all their cell-phone worshipping, but I now I realize that "texting" is simply a symbol of our desire to talk with others and feel important. Is texting really eradicating peoples' abilities to have face-to-face conversations? I doubt it. How could anybody measure that? Do they strap kids that are "addicted" to texting down in a lab chair, and then shoot conversational questions at them and measure how well they're able to carry on a conversation?
Of course, sometimes, teenagers run up the bill when they text a lot. That probably isn't so good. Cell phone companies, of course, are simply exploiting peoples' desires to communicate, with fancy sounding text plans that sound cheap, but add up eventually. In this regard, I can see the negativity of texting. But isn't that ALL that people, especially teenagers, want to do? Talk? Feel loved?

Pretty weird when you think of it that way. Oh well. The end.

Dixie College Police

I don't mean to be a complainer, since I know that when you argue against some sort of policy with no real solution of your own, it's complaining. So I guess I do mean to be a complainer. There you go.
I got a parking ticket last week for parking in the Udvar-Hazy Business Building parking lot, without a parking permit. Why did this happen, you might say? Well, let's just say that I've been parking in this parking lot for over a year, thinking that it was the institute parking lot, which I figured was totally separate from the college. Even though people parking to go to the business building technically still park in the same parking lot, I figured there was some sort of dividing line that I couldn't see. Which sounds silly, I know, but that's how I really felt. It would make sense to have a separate parking lot for the Institute. But more often than not, the parking lot for a building is in the FRONT of the building. Therefore, I assumed, logically, that I was parking in a totally separate parking lot.
Now let's analyze this situation. I don't want to buy a parking permit. They're $25. That's too much money for a stupid little sticker. About this subject, Dixie College police have stated that this is a "safety issue." My beef with it all is that there is no SAFETY involved with placing a parking ticket on someone's car, a ticket which gives a person 10 days to pay the fine. And in my case, I parked in that parking lot for over a year. So if a van full of Libyan terrorists pulls up in a permit-required parking lot, and they all decide to go in the Gardner student center and detonate a bomb, or if somebody decides they want to inflict some sort of harm to Dixie College students or faculty, a PARKING TICKET is supposed to make them go away? "Uh oh guys, there's a parking ticket on our car! We only have 10 days to pay a 20 dollar fine! Let's GET OUTTA HERE!"
Please.
The only reason they hand out parking tickets is to 1) Make money, and 2) Piss students off and make them hate the police more than they already do. Which I know is the least of the police department's worries. But I hate hate hate them masking this all with their talk of "safety" and "protecting the students."
If you're going to make it a safety issue in ANY way, you should be more diligent about dishing out parking tickets. I got away with it for a year apparently. Either be more consistent with handing out parking tickets, or drop the stupid permit price altogether, because everyone knows it's a bunch of bullcrap, and all you want is money.
Idiots.