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My name is Bean and this is my blog. Hence the name. If you have comments or questions, just leave them in the comments area.
When I was in 6th grade, I got my first girlfriend. I remember writing the note, folding it that special way that kids fold notes, and giving it to her friend to pass along to her. In the note, I asked her to "go with me."
Amy Blackwell went to Grantline Elementary with me. I went there from Kindergarten through the 6th grade... she has just showed up in 5th or 6th (I don't remember). So she was the "new girl" at the time. We were both in this after school program called A3SIP. Again, I don't remember what that stood for, but we always claimed that the SIP stood for "Super Intelligent People". We were in the same class, rode the same bus, and were in the same after school program. She was cute, and I was in love.
Melissa McIntyre (may be misspelled) was the friend who passed the note to my soon-to-be girlfriend. When I got the response that she had said "yes", I was psyched. There were, of course, some glitches. Her parents wouldn't allow her to have a boyfriend, so I wouldn’t ever be allowed to call or come visit. Seemed a little weird to me, but I was a very shy person at the time so I was fine with it. That note made my day, my week, hell... it made my year. I still have it.
So we were "going together" now. This meant that we exchanged notes throughout the day, and that’s about it. I mentioned that I was a shy little kid, and due to this, I rarely talked face to face with Amy even though she was my girlfriend. Looking back, this seems extremely strange, but at the time I saw no other option. I was so afraid that I would say something stupid to her that I said nothing at all.
I did manage to talk to Amy on the phone a few times, I think. She told me certain time to call when her parents wouldn't be home. I don't remember the conversations being anything earth-shattering, though. When summer finally came and we could no longer pass notes, I was unsure on how we would communicate. I had elaborate plans of riding my bike to a secret location and meeting up with her. Unfortunately, she had elaborate plans of dumping me, and she did. In true 6th grade style, she had her friend do it. I played it off when I was asked about it, but I was devastated inside, at least as much as a 6th grader could be.
The first day of 7th grade, she sat next to me in one of our classes. I didn't know what to do, so I didn't do anything. I didn't look at her, talk to her, or in any way acknowledge that she was there. She soon moved to another seat. I don't think I talked to her a single time throughout junior high school. Even in high school, when we happened to be around each other (common friends) we didn't interact. Even if I saw her today, i would feel weird about talking to her. The only impressions I have of her in my memory are from 15 years ago.
Every now and then I'll hear her name from a high school friend. I heard she has a big head, physically, though I am not sure what to make of that. I also heard updates on what she was doing after high school, but never took much note. As far as I'm concerned, she is still the cute little 11 year old that broke my heart for the first time.
The Ugly Monkey
Posted July 28, 2003 at 08:18:02 AM by Bean
Saturday night, me, Stef, Andy, and his girldfriend Sara went to The Ugly Monkey (horrible website, by the way). It's a newish club in downtown Indy that's right next to The Slippery Noodle Inn. Stef had never been, and I had a feeling she'd like it there. I was right. We had a few drinks and whatnot in the sit-down bar area and then proceeded to the dance side of the club. Cheap drinks, no cover, good music - we all had a good time. We hit up the downtown WC on the way home and declared the night a success. BUT - the real story here is all of the interesting things that The Ugly Monkey has... here are a few:
They have pretty good drink specials on the weekends, so we will probably try to head back again sometime soon. You should come.
Posted July 24, 2003 at 11:28:52 AM by Bean
When I was in elementary school, I saw the name "Shawn" all the time. When I met Sean (aka JCTMH), I thought his name was spelled funny. Now, after knowing Sean for so long, "Shawn" seems like an incorrect way to spell it. I just noticed today that the same thing has happened to the name "Stephanie" which is now an abnormal permutation of "Stefanie" by my perception.
When I pronounce "Shawn" I find myself drawing out the "w" sounds so that it sounds almost like show-one. When I pronounce "Stephanie" I find myself wanting to throw a "p" sound in there... like step-funny.
That is all.
Posted July 22, 2003 at 03:05:25 PM by Bean
Last night, I coughed every 30 seconds for about 8 hours straight. Needless to say, I got no sleep. So, today I called in sick to work and slept in. My throat is near-bloody and hurts like a sonofa, but atleast I am not working for the man!
Also, I decided to produce a drawing... long overdue. It's a picture of "Scuba" Steve Corbin selling his truck to some chick with big knockers.
Posted July 21, 2003 at 06:13:39 PM by Bean
This is the term I have coined for a disturbing phenomenon that happens at a lot of SIPS gatherings. The word buttonface can be broken down into the smaller words button and face, which would be a reference to the face of a button, or perhaps a face that looks like a button. This, of course, is far from the actual root of the word as I use it. It is in reality made up of THREE words... butt, on, and face.
Previous buttonface examples have appeared throughout this blog, and now there is another one to add to the mix. After a winning streak in pong a few weekends ago, we could have probably done about anything to Koji in his passed out state. Fortunately for him, this is was the extent of the damage.
Posted July 21, 2003 at 09:06:46 AM by Bean
Posted July 18, 2003 at 11:01:04 AM by Bean
Back in the early days of TheDuck, we wrote daily poems. Every morning, someone (sometimes multiple people) would write a poem, lymeric, or rhyme to entertain the other Ducks as they came into work for the day. Traditionally, the first letter of each line of the poem would start with the letters of the current day - so "daily" poem took on a double meaning. I decided to share this custom with the BeanBlog readers by writing a daily poem for today:
I compiled a list of all of the daily poems written as of August 7, 2001. After that, the poem frequency dropped pretty low. Fortunately, I have saved all pf the poems that have been sent since then, so someday I will bring the archive up to date.
[Update: List now contains all duck poems to date!]
Posted July 17, 2003 at 11:15:30 AM by Bean
Have you ever chopped the fuck out of your foot with a weedeater? I have. Last night I was about to trim around the back deck and as I plugged in the electric weedeater, I felt something lightly tapping the top of my foot. The light tapping was actually the repetative, numbingly feirce whipping of the weedeater wire thrashing my foot. I must have had the extension cord wrapped around the trigger, holding it down. After about 1 second, I realized what was happening and threw the machine away from me. I looked down at my foot and could clearly see that the wire made atleast 10 revolutions while smacking me. In the center of the wound, the skin is torn away. Around that, there are deep, bloody, lateral bruises that look like they are about to pop. Quite nasty.
How I Pee
Posted July 16, 2003 at 01:32:21 PM by Bean
After a few minutes of thought and experimentation, I have determined the most sanitary way to use the facilities here at Acterna. My focus is on keeping my hands clean of other people crotch-cooties. We have urinals with manual flush levers, paper towel dispensers with dispensing levers, and standard, non-automatic sinks and soap dispensers. This is a far cry from the hi-tech, automated, touch-nothing bathrooms of the future, which are ofton found in malls and office buildings built in the 00's. Anyway, here is what I do when I have to pee:
Using this method, my hands do not touch anythign in the bathroom after they have been washed free of whatever nasties lurk in there. I do this approximately 15 times a day while at work.
Posted July 15, 2003 at 06:00:19 PM by Bean
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted an unwrapped chocolate candy and a pill on the floor of my cube this afternoon. Against my first instinct, I threw them in the trach instead of eating them.
Mo Betta Bloggins
Posted July 15, 2003 at 02:37:35 PM by Bean
In case you didnt notice, I have added a few things to the BeanBlog lately. Most notable is the commenting system, provided by BackBlog. It allows you, the reader, to comment on the BeanBlog on a per-entry basis. Also new is the bottom element in the right-side column. It's a text ad that will take you to a random blog out there, provided by BlogSnob. Be warned, most blogs suck. This feature may also help bring more outsiders into the BeanBlog community. And lastly, I have added permalinks into each article. By clicking on the "link to this entry" link at the top of each entry, you will be taken to the entry's permenant URL in the archives. This is usefull if, for some reason, you wanted to reference a specific BeanBlog entry instead of the site in general.
So, leave a comment, sample some random blogs, and link to me!
A Bug's Life
Posted July 14, 2003 at 01:51:12 PM by Bean
I am sick of bugs. In particular, I am sick of: mosquitos, japanese beetles, and spiders.
So I decided to fight back. I used a drill-powered pump to drain the valve box and watched the skeeter larvae dry up in a rock bed. I also fogged the entire area to take care of their parents. From Menards, I got a Bug-Bag trap that I am going to set up outside in the corner of my yard. That should draw the beetles in and keep them off my veggies. And lastly, I Got some spider traps for the bathroom and garage. I am going to let them suffer when they tread over the sticky surface... starve, fuckers, STARVE!
Posted July 11, 2003 at 08:47:18 AM by Bean
Ever since college, I have had a theory about the effects of alcohol on the human mind and body. The theory usually pops into my head after I have been drinking, and it always makes perfect sense. Now, even in a stone cold sober state, after thinking about it more, I believe it has some legitimacy.
First off, I make the assumption that people rarely take action entirely based on their raw thoughts. It's a pretty broad assumption, so for the purpose of my explination, I'll narrow it down to "people rarely say exactly what they think." Society would revert to a primal state if everyone always blurted out the first things that popped in their heads. I believe that evolution has developed filters that human thoughts run through before exiting via the mouth. The filters keep us civil.
We all have the ability to fine tune our filters. For instance, when I am at work, my filter is turned pretty much up to 100% - I watch what I say and am generally a very nice and pleasant person. At home, my filter drop to the 60-80% range. I am still civil to my friends, but I am more relaxed and less concerned about what I say. In groups of close friends and family, my filter may even drop to 50% effeciency... sort of "letting it all hang out." I think it is hard, under normal circumstances, to push your filter below 50%. So your tunable range is normally 50-100%.
Drink a beer, shave 5 or 6 points off your range. Drink 10 beers, and your range is now down around 0-50%. At this point, the filter will behave like you're with your closest friends even when you're talking to the Pope. When you are at 0%, you blabber out everything you are thinking, like an ape given the ability of speech.
It has been shown that reaction times and the speed of the though process itself go down as you consume alcohol. So intoxicated people have fewer, slower thoughts; but, a higher percentage of them come through the filters with little or no modification. This explains how drunks, whose thoughts are slowed to a crawl, can still keep up in a drunken conversation and how playing a game of beerpong with AJ Patrick can take 3 hours.
Your filters rebuild themselves as time goes on, much like your BAC drops as your body filters out the alcohol toxins. For this reason, it makes sense that your filter's tunable range is in some way proportional to your BAC. After consulting my handy BAC card, which tells you your BAC based on drinks consumed, weight, and drinking time, and taking my own personal experiences under consideration, I have come up with a rough relationship between BAC and your tunable range. The lower bound of both the minimum and maximum is, of course, zero:
Tmin = 50 - (BAC * 333)
So with respect to speech, alcohol seems to suppress our filters and be a kind of truth syrum. Now, traversing back to the broad scope, it is easy to see how the filter idea can be applied to other parts of human behavior as well. As our tunable range drops, our instinctive thoughts and decisions may be more likely to bypass the "rules-of-behavior filter" and manifest themselves as actions. This could result in behavior that is strange, lacking in common-sense, or even primitive (NeanderPaul).
As a final example: Filters know all about accountability, so when you are drunk, burning down a picinic table may seem like an okay think to do. Your filter that would normally tell you "this isn't your table, you can't burn it" or "this is dangerous" gets tuned too low, and lets the "Hey, lets burn stuff" thought pass straight through to your speech, decisions, and actions. The point is, the original thought is not caused by the drunken state - it is always there, just normally filtered.
Also, by my estimation, it takes exactly one bottle of DeKupers Wattermellon Schnaps to bring your filters low enough to burn down someone elses picinic table.
Posted July 10, 2003 at 09:44:42 AM by Bean
Two nights ago, I had a dream about fire. I was in a corn field, and there was a little fire that was spreading in every direction, including towards my house. Luckily, there were fire extinguishers strategically placed throughout the field and I ran around like a madman using them to squirt them out. Some of the fire extinguishers squirted water, some squirted foam, and some blasted high pressure gas and powder. The foam ones worked the best, but they all did their part in killing the run-away flames.
I was at Menard's last night buying a ceiling fan, and the dream suddenly came back in my head. I then decided to buy a few fire extinguishers. I got one that was safe for all types of fire and mounted it in the kitchen. I also mounted one that is more useful against electrical fires and burning liquids (gasoline, oil, etc.) in my garage. I feel much mo betta safer now.
So, to all of you home-owning BeanBlog readers, go buy some fire extinguishers. They aren't very expensive, and when a corn field fire spreads to your house, you'll be happy you have them.
The First BeanFest
Posted July 10, 2003 at 08:30:33 AM by Bean
Last weekend, I was watching a slideshow that the Martini's put together and it got me in a nostalgic mood. When the Duck formed back in 1999, we began having Fests. Fests were just events where as many Ducks gathered as could make it. The name of the Fest was determined by who had it. For instance, when m1 had get-togethers, we called them SinsyFest (since he lived in Cincy at the time). Mine was BeanFest. Fests generally involved large amounts of food and beer, and the invitation to come and stay was wide open. Good times!
So, in rememberence of the first BeanFest, which took place in Chicago way back in the early years of TheDuck, here are a few snapshots:
The Mystical Maxson-Donkey
Eat, Drink, Play Bubble-Wars
Posted July 02, 2003 at 10:53:52 AM by Bean
If you don't want to know about my poop, then don't read this article.
Normally, I have fairly regular BMs. I almost always go at work and almost always between 8 and 9 in the morning. Once a day is my norm, and I rarely poop at home, so most weekends I don't go at all.
This past weekend was no exception. The strange part, though, was that I missed my Friday morning dump for some reason. This isn't all that out of the ordinary... maybe I didn't get enough fiber or something. In fact, this exact situation had occurred a few times before and it was always followed by an early morning Monday poo followed by another in the afternoon to make up for the Friday. But this Monday, nothing. Tuesday, nothing. Today, I was beginning to get a little worried... working on my 6th day without pinching a loaf.
I decided to take drastic action. I chugged down about 24 ounces of room temperature coffee. I figured the caffeine would do the trick, and it did. At 9:45, about 10 minutes after the coffee, I felt the urge. It was like a blessing from sweet jeebus. I walked down the hall to the out-of-the-way-bathroom that I like to use (more private) and greeted the familure sights along the way. "Hello water-fountian next to the bathroom", "Hello little guy on the men's bathroom sign", "Hello bathroom with one stall", and finally "Hello porcelain bowl that accepts my waste!"
Now I wont go into details as to the texture, consistency, or smell, but I will tell you that I felt about 10 pounds lighter after I was done. Cleanup was a snap, and two flushes later, I walked out of the out-of-the-way-bathroom feeling like a new man.
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