I Apologize

I started this blog to increase my writing, and yet here I am, (INSERT TIME) later and I missed (INSERT TIME) so I'll make it up to my followers. A.K.A No one (Well Kirsten told me she follows me, but other than that) here's to you Kirsten. I'll make this quick because I'm getting drunker and tireder as I type.

I'm going to make 3 points of business. No. I won't

I'm writing and here we go. Forget the last blog. I was gonna make a joke about walking in on your friend's parents having sex and them not caring since u aren't their child and u never being welcome again, but I'm not going to.

I'm going to make a solid point. That point is...Well that point is...Well here it is...

A few weeks ago, AJ gave me his How I Met Your Mother DVD's. There's a character that hits on every girl, and gets laid all the time. I began to think, Hrmph, maybe I should start getting proactive. Stop being afraid of girls saying NO, and start thinking, Maybe they'll say YES. So I'm rethinking my social atmosphere. Not to say I do anything wrong or right, but I'm going to change the way I do wrong or right. I'm tired of being afraid of NO. I'm tired of them saying "Dave Seeman, you should slash your wrist" and I'm tired of being tired. So from now on, so what if a girl says no. Everytime I approach a girl, and they say no, I'm still happy I went up to them.

I'm going to finish this blog. I didn't really have a point, I didn't have a message, but by Golly I'm just trying to build a better self.

Adult Sex

So I would apologize, but there aren't enough followers for me to feel sorry for not writing recently. I'm going to start with something i might have already spoken of, but i'm going to switch it up a bit.
I am drunk currently which has been one of my goals with this blog; to write a drunken blog entry that is entertaining and informative. So here we go.

I've never walked in on my parents haven't sex. I can image it would be horrifying and disturbing, but also somewhat expected. I mean everyone thinks about walking in on their parents having sex. As a kid you don't think about it, but you constantly walked in on your parents. "Hey, it's cold in my room." "Mom, there's a scary noise in my closet." "I thought you guys were having sex so I walked in." You exist because your parents had sex, so you must've thought about it. (Unless you were adopted, in which case you probably have access to a razorblade and can touch your wrist.)

Anyway, I'm about to fall alseep so I'll try to make this quick. Imagine how awkward it is to see your parents have sex. You don't want to see it, they don't want you to see it, but at least you'll get a comforting talk. What it more awkward is walking in on your Friends Parents having sex.

I'm really tired so I'll finish this thought tomorrow. For the time being, don't walk into your parent's or friend's parents' bedrooms.

Burning Down the House / Animals

Early post today. I've been wanting to write a drunk entry, but when I get drunk I also get tired, so I usually fall asleep instead of writing. It may be for the better. Usually when I get drunk I get stuck on one topic for a very long time and in a lot of unnecessary detail. So on this beautiful summer day, I'll give you a sober entry. Though I plan on start drinking pretty soon, so maybe later I'll give you a drunk entry.

I had a dream last night that I had to drive to some business outside the city where apparently everyone I knew worked. So after carpooling with everyone there I parked my car. My friends were also drunk for their 9-5 jobs and stood in front of a car trying to park. Now they only did it for like 10 seconds, so it wasn't that bad, but the driver of the car didn't laugh. In fact he came out, along with 3 of his friends and put a knife in my face. As the driver and the only one who didn't work their, I didn't feel that a knife in my face was appropriate. We all eventually calmed down and me and the knife wielding man got some Chinese food. During our Chinese food eating, I bumped into a friend who happen to be driving a huge van that day. Well by standing in front of the car like my friends did, it apparently made the car break, which I only learned at this moment as the knife wielding man explained how he needed a ride. So we picked everyone up and the van friend drove everyone home. When I got home I realized I forgot my car. I said I'd just go tomorrow with everyone again and pick up my car when they went to work. NOPE. Because everyone was drunk and carrying knives, everyone got fired and no one wanted to ever go back to the building. The knife wielding man offered to drive me back that night. When we got to my car, the doors, locks, and other parts were missing. Then the knife wielding man cursed me out, took credit for the theft and pushed me out of the car. I wasn't really that upset with being stranded, but I was confused how he blamed me for the car breaking down.

So that was all I could really think of to write about. I also had a dream where bonnarroo was in Boston and everyone was eating salami sandwiches that had some type of drug in it.

As I'm watching "Life" a movie about Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence in prison back in the 30's. They spend their whole LIFES in jail, hence the name. The thought that had crossed my mind is that I would much rather be in a black work camp prison then any white prison any day. They spend their days outside, talking and making jokes, playing baseball, sleeping with the warden's daughter. Sounds like a much better time then Andy Dufrene getting ass raped by the Sisters. And when they escape, they just set fire to a building, they don't have to crawl through 3 football fields of shit and piss.

Speaking of burning down buildings, does anyone else ever get that urge? To just set fire to buildings and furniture and people? No...yeah, me neither.

I think if I could speak to any animal in the world, I could only pick one species of animal to talk to, it would be alligators. Some people might pick dogs, because you have them as a pet. Well the conversations would never get past food. And knowing that they can talk to you, well they are so attached to people they would never stop talking to you. "I love you. I love you, can I eat something" No thanks. Cats probably wouldn't even talk back to you, those stuck up assholes.
Maybe someone would pick something more exotic, like a lion or elephant. Well the only times I would interact with an animal like that would be at a zoo, and zoo's aren't a happy place for animals. They would provide you with very depressing conversations and you'd probably just stop going to the zoo after that. So this is why I'd pick alligators. Alligators can kill you. They will kill you because they like to eat, and people are weaker and stupider than alligators. So with the ability to talk to alligators I could form an alliance with them. I could convince them that I am a great man and I should not be eaten. Even more so, I could convince them who SHOULD be eaten and form an army of alligators. And no one would know that it was me behind these killings, they would just blame the alligators. And then after people started getting really scared, that's when I would train the alligators to set fire to buildings. Then I would set fire to buildings. So much burning...but yeah, alligators. I would also accept any other animal with a killing capacity.

I mean at the very least I wouldn't have to worry about alligators and at the very best I engulf the world in flames with my Army of Torch Alligators. ATA they'd be known as, at least until everyone was dead. Then they wouldn't be known as anything, since everyone would be dead. But then you have to worry about the alligators that find out my plan and sympathize with humanity. I'd have to come up with a Fascist government regime for the alligators and make sure I found out the spies. Though, with alligators, I can't see much of them caring about humanity. Though they might be using me, and right as I conquer the world, they eat me and then they have the power.

There's a lot of kinks to work out, but you shouldn't worry about it. Just live your life to the fullest, keep on dreaming, and when an alligator starts eating you, just accept the inevitable and get eaten.

Alright, let's get some lunch in me.

Hard Sexual Choices / Kittens

Today while I defecated into my toilet I began to think about a troubling scenario. I will present that scenario to you know. If you had to pick, HAD TO, which would you pick? You could either walk in on your sibling having sex or your parents. Now don't just pick so quickly. I want you to really think about this. It's a hard question. Think about the possibilities. Think about the place, the possible toys involved. Think really hard. I'll give you a minute to decide.

Think some more.

Keep thinking.

Done thinking? NOPE. Think again.

Alright. You can decide now.

Now I hoped that my plan has worked. My planned was to get you, the reader, to think about your family members having sex not only for a good length of time, but also in good detail. Where were your parents? In their bed? In YOURS? Did your brother do anything kinky to his girlfriend? Or maybe you just found out he's gay? Would that make you want to walk in on him more?

To be honest I'm not going to pick for you or for me, but it's something that some people do go through and we shouldn't make this into a laughing matter because it's not funny for the people it's happened to and it's sure as hell not funny if that person is you.

Today was the first full day of summer. Yesterday began summer, but today was a full on 24 hours. Like Jack Bauer. They should call ever day after the seasonal solstice Jack Bauer Day. Or at the very least, someone should give me a present, preferably a visit by Jack Bauer. Depending on the season would depend on which Jack Bauer I get. Winter I feel like would be heroin addicted Jack Bauer. What a Christmas I would have...if I remembered it.

Some people keep a diary or journal. I feel like if there was a season that diary writing was most common it would be summer. People are off, relaxing. It's just conducive to writing. I would call my Summer Diary, "A Summery Summary of Summer's Summer." In this scenario, I have changed my name to Summer.

If you don't know or haven't heard or been out of the loop, possibly out of the news cycle, haven't read your google reader in a few days, maybe been out of town, or maybe you do know, I have a cat. His name is Buster and sometimes he craps in the house. His mother, a disgusting feral she-beast, lives in my backyard. His mother just gave birth to more kittens. Now I'm a nice guy, I like animals, but I have to say, God knows how to test me.

Recently we've gotten a new in-ground pool and God had already given me a pair of healthy hands. How in the world can I watch those kittens run around my backyard and not feel the urge to grab one or all of the kittens and drown them mercifully in the pool with my God given hands. Now I know what you are thinking, "Dave. Drowning kittens might ruin the pool. Think of the time and money it would take to clean and sanitize the pool after a kitten drowning." Trust me I know. But then you might say, "Well you could drown them in the filter that way the pool would mostly stay clean." Yeah, but I couldn't guarantee that the pool WOULD be clean. Now I know what you would say, "Well couldn't you just fill up a bucket with water by the pool and drown them in that." And I would simply smile and wink at you, implying I had already killed the kittens by that matter. And you would laugh. And I would say, "I'm sorry, but you just failed the test." And you would say "What test?" And then my body would appear to be some type of costume or suit. And when you poked me, the costume would fall apart, leaving a bunch of kittens on the ground. Before you could yell for help, the kittens would already have pounced on you. The twist...You become their new suit, waiting patiently for the next person to take their test.

Now as I was writing that past passage I stopped halfway through and almost erased the entire idea. I decided to keep it because I liked it even if I thought no one else would and also because I have to try and stop these kittens somehow. Next time you see me, just to be safe, say nice things about cats.

Easter Egg

I decided to write something today since it is my last day at HBO. Well, at least my last for this temp assignment. For all I know I might get a call next week to come in, or I might never recieve that phone call and spend endless hours waiting for my cell to ring. I've spent a lot of my time a HBO applying for other jobs, though only 2 unpaid positions replied. I also do have the Syfy job as a backup for the rest of the month. Crap money, crap hours, crap job, but at least it's crap money as opposed to no money.

I have just realized that I have nothing to write about. Not the usual, I have nothing to write about so here's a whole bunch of random crap I'm thinking of. I mean, I have nothing to write about. I'm tired, I have an hour and a half to go and I just want to sleep on the train. I think I'm going to post this without even making a facebook or twiiter post. This will remain as an easter egg blog entry. Only those truly following will see it.

You deserve better. Next time I'll work much harder on this.

Back Up Underpants / No Pets Allowed

Before I get to my main topic today, I briefly wanted to touch upon the Back-Up Underpants idea I wrote about the other day. Today there was a fire drill. I don't think I've had a fire drill since my internship here at HBO, but nonetheless there was a fire drill. Had this been a real fire, depending on the extent of the fire, I'm sure that the 13th floor wouldn't make it out alive. Regardless, even if I did live through the fire, I would've still been incapacitated. I have yet to put a back-up underpants in my bag. Maybe someone knew. How often is there a fire drill? What are the chances it would happen a few days after coming up with the back-up underwear idea? I'm guessing roughly 365:1. Incredible odds! But I'm happy the drill did happen. Even if I'm not at HBO ever again, tonight I will place extra underpants in my bag so I will always be prepared. I hope you do the same.

Alright onto the main topic:

No Pets Allowed Signs

This morning I saw a "No Pets Allowed" sign, which I've seen hundreds of times as I'm sure you have as well. But something happened this morning that made me think of the history of the sign, which I'm sure none of you know. I am lucky enough to have heard the tale and will share it with you now.

When you here "No Pets Allowed" you usually think of a dog, possibly a cat. These are the pets that people carry around with them. But some people have exotic animals as pets, like a cougar or a bear. But these people are jackasses and should die (which they usually do at the hands of their 'pets'). Is that why No Pets Signs started? Maybe it was do to people's allergies? No. It started years and years ago. Back when pets were more than just cats and dogs and bears. Back when your pet was your life...

In the early 1800's, the west was only beginning to be explored. Most of the land a mystery filled with savages and oddly wonders. People wanted not only to explore, but to find a new life for their families. People wanted not only to find a new life, but also get really drunk at bars. So that's what they did. Cowboys would ride their horses to the bar, go in the bar, and drink until the sun came up. The only problem was...they never got off their horse. There weren't any "No Pets Allowed" signs, so cowboys would just ride into the bar and stay on their horses for the stay. They would drink on their horses, get into bar fights on their horses, even drunkenly fondle young ladies on their horses. This seems odd, but that's the way it had always been done, so no one really thought anything of it. The problem was that with all these people on the horses, only 7 or 8 people could fit into a bar. And if youi were unlucky enough to have a horse and entered one of these bars, well you would most likely get trampled to death.

Anyway, one bar owner had enough. "These horses are taking up too much space," he might've proclaimed. So what did he do. He imposed a 2 drink minimum for any horse in his bar. This only created more problems. First, the horses didn't understand the concept of a drink minimum. They are horses and don't understand simple economics. Also, most horses work for food, not money. So they didn't have any money to buy the beer. A few cases have shown that horses bartered some of their food for a beer, but horse food isn't worth much and the owner just stopped trading all together. So after the drink minimum plan failed, the owner was out of ideas. Except for one. The lightbulb went off and he knew what he had to do. He found a rope and hung himself in his bar. He was dead. What else could he do? He was out of money, he wasn't a good bar owner and he also suffered from depression.

So now that he was dead, his son, Buck McSign Jr., took over the bar. Now Buck was only a child of 8, but he knew his shit. He learned from his father how to run a business and also, how to hate horses. He blamed his father's suicide on horses. He hated them with all his passion, He spent his childhood protesting horses and starting Anti-Horse Organizations. But his words fell upon deaf ears. Most people at the time had a horse, so why would they hate them. Even those without horses still thought they were pretty. So Buck decided to use his hatred to drive a successful business. (Which is really the only way to run a successful business) One night Buck went into his playroom, opened up his box of Crayola crayons and wrote down three words.

"No Horses Allowed"

Not only was this the first "No Pets Allowed" Sign. It Was The FIRST SIGN EVER!!! Words on paper, posted in a visible area seems like a simple idea, but this was the first time in history anyone ever did it. Up until this point you just had to know what was where. But now they had signs.

At first it was called a "McSign" after Buck McSign. The people came to the bar that morning and read the McSign. The didn't know what to do. They wanted to drink, but how could they drink not on their horse. So they tried it. They tied up their horses outside and walked into the bar. And it WORKED!!! The people still got drunk. They enjoyed it more as well. They could fight easier, without the fear of falling of their horse. Drinking was easier, as the horse walking usually spilt half their drinks. And fondling girls was no longer an art form. You could just grab any girl that walked by. Life was grand.

The "McSign" was later shortened to "Mc," which soon took on a new meaning. When the Irish came to America in the late 1800's, they carried over thousands of signs with them. So people called them "Mcs" or "Mics" After that it was hard to differentiate whether someone was talking about an Irish man or a McSign, so people just started calling McSigns "Signs."


And that's how the M. Night Shyamalan movie, starring Mel Gibson, got its name.


So next time you see a no pets sign, stop and think for a second cause there's a lot of history behind that.

Next week I'll tell you the history of "No Coloreds Allowed" signs.

Purpose in Prose

Someone recently asked me, "Hey Dave, I didn't know you have a blog. What's it about?" Actually no one asked me that, but I thought it would be a good start for my newest post. I was recently going through some other blogs for inspiration and maybe steal a few good jokes when I realized, my blogs alittle different from the others I've seen. Most blogs have a consistent theme. It could be about food and recipes or sports or hiking, but there's usually a common theme in every post. My blog is usually just random thoughts that pop into my head as I write. Even now I'm not sure how this will end.

The reason I'm bringing this up is because I feel without some type of structure, the reader (YOU!) doesn't have a connection to my blog. I don't think someone will randomly find this blog and decide to read it. I don't think that many people would enjoy this blog since it really has nothing to do with anything. I feel that I'm losing a good amount of fan base by doing this, but there really isn't enough stuff that I care enough about to write an entire blog about. Yeah, sports are fun, but I'm not going to any Spring Training Camps and coming out with insider info, so my sports knowledge is basically the sum of everything I read during the day. I like videogames, but I'm not as nerdy as I used to be as a kid, so I don't think that I could compete with real hardcore gamer blogs.

Movies and Televsion not only interest me, but that's my job. But if someone wanted to read about movies or television I don't think they would rush over to hear my insights. Not until I get juicy insider info from my new job on Indiana Jones 5.

I also thought maybe I could have a weekly theme. This week is dogs. I like dogs, but I can't do dogs justice. Go to dailypuppy.com or watch Dogs 101.

So my blog will simply stay as it is for now. If you have any suggestions of a new direction I should take, let me know. (That's to the one reader I have; probably just Kirsten)

So today I started researching fantasy football pretty hardcorely. (Hardcorely is now my favorite word) I did 2 mock drafts and both times I ended up with pretty good players. Not only am I positive I won't finish in last place like last year, but I will win and go undefeated.

If anyone other than Kirsten is reading this, you should tell other people to read it as well. I just read a thing on my profile that if I get alot of viewers I can sell ad space. I'd probably need like 100 people a week at least so something like that, but its doable. Let's make it your New Year's Resolution. No. No one ever really does their resolution. Let's make it your purpose in life. Your life will be a complete failure and you'll go to hell unless you get 25 people to check out this blog. Now you might be saying, "Dave you can't tell me what to do" or "I don't believe in hell." Well then go fuck yourself. I believe in hell. I believe that hell exists solely for this blog. The only people in hell are people who don't read this blog and then proceed to tell others about it. So no skin off my back if you don't tell anyone, but they'll be a lot of skin off yours, from the devil, whipping you, with an ax, in your ass. But this is America, so you can choose what to do. Unless you are one of my North Korean followers, in which case, you are being forced to read this, and I thank you for that.

Also, I've been thinking about a sign off. Like "Until next blog" or "Just remember: I can't be wrong if I'm white" or "Please love me dad. I'm only doing this for your attention." I don't know yet. But another thing I'll be thinking about.