max said to jon, "i often have like an inverse sour grapes reaction. i guess some people call this optimism."

I don't think any of us will ever get used to aging.

Do you think young, male, Asian drivers drive so speedily and loudly and annoyingly because they're afraid of being pegged as typical Asian drivers?

Also, there's nothing like a simile.

Permanent link to this comic: http://xkcd.com/537/

Go Dog Go

I painted this in a few hours on the weekend. It's a greyhound and it's ok.

Danielle Goes Down

This is not good.
This is not efff good.

So I called my New Year's Eve date and left her a message last night.
She hasn't called back

So what am I doing now? I'm on facebook. I add Danielle M. as a friend. She confirms about 15 minutes later. She posts twice on my wall saying she likes my new haircut and ish. I start chatting her on facebook. Who is this Danielle M.? For one, she's named Danielle, which is trouble. For two, she's the cute little sister of Sam Morabito and she now goes to UCI. For three, she's part of the triathlon club at UCI, which I might be joining, so she also looks all toned and ish. She's pre-med. She's Catholic. And finally, there's a picture of her on facebook with like a huge-ass tattoo on her back.


Who said it's better to show, not to tell? (She's on the left, btw)

Dimebags of Penny Candies

So I was going to call the arena soccer place to find out what time my game was. I have an entry in my cell phone for them, named "Arena Soccer." I opened my cell phone, I went to contacts, I hit 2 on the keypad to get to the a's. Then I thought, wait a minute, the alphabet starts with "a"! So I hit the clear key to erase my "a" and proceeded from there.

I think I'll make it to my game tonight. Go Dimebags.

chokingonapples@yahoo.com

Dear Jon,

So I called that girl. And so now I'm sitting here, waiting, like a girl. Except I'm waiting for that girl to call me back. This would be unlike girls who wait for boys to call them back. Sometimes I wait for boys to call me back, but not like I'm waiting for this girl to call me back. (I'm sure you can figure out how unnecessary the past few sentences were.) But what are the chances of this girl calling me back? 1) it takes guts to call people you don't know and 2) it takes an extra portion of guts or great deal of bile to call someone with the object of rejecting them. And girls don't have guts. Some say girls don't poop. Well, they poop. Of course they poop. But they don't have guts.

Ah, but I love my plight. I half revel in the awkward interactions between myself and girls. It's such a confession of our humanity. But this doesn't mean I escape the goofy emotions that tag along. Assuredly not. But those emotions bounce both ways. Let's continue.

My next thoughts were: but that girl has such a pretty name. Maybe the prettiest name I've ever heard! Her facebook lists are pretty good and vague enough to let me imagine what I want; her phone number is really cool; her voicemail message was like...super cute.

But she hasn't called.

So then, Jon, I begin to doubt myself. (Tenses are shifting, how disorienting, my apologies) You know, how did I let it come to this? I shouldn't have left that message. I should have tried back again and again until she picked up. Then I ask the deep questions: why do I try to "go out" on New Year's Eve? I have delusions of romantic grandeur and I forget myself. The critics are right: I like physics and soccer and video games. Live, loud music hurts my ears. But I swear I would really enjoy ice skating. My ice skating with a girl sounds terrific. Admittedly, I would be pretty skeptical of some boy wanting to go ice skating with a girl myself. Some soft boy. Some caring, sensitive boy who reads Twilight as research.

I hung out with three, female ex-coworkers of mine (including Katrina of the golden iPod). They agreed that all the boys they've dated/interacted with romantically have all been caring, unlike how it used to be. I questioned them about their knowledge of what "it used to be like", but ultimately I agreed with them. What do white guys do these days? Listen to emotional music and not study science. Whatever. That girl still hasn't called me.

-Max

Happy New Year's Eve Morn

Sometimes I email Jon. And in those emails, I can be pretty funny I think. So I'm going to pretend you're Jon, okay? "We're fated to pretend." Good deal. If you are Jon, then I don't know. Pretend you're not Jon and then pretend to be Jon. Should be a stretching experience for you. Almost literally. Almost. You'd be walking a mile in somebody else's shoes who happen to be walking a mile in your shoes at the same time. Geometrically, I don't know where this takes you. Probably nowhere. (When I heard about those guys throwing shoes at Bush, I asked if any hit him. I was told he dodged 'em all and, in that moment, I was proud to be an American.) (That was probably the funniest bit in this whole post.)(Also, I'm prone to generalizations in my emails to Jon; It's assumed you're not stupid.) (I'm beta testing a new style of parenthetical formatting.) (I'm going to now call it quits and make this its own post.)

http://www.lunadrift.com/play/music-catch.html

Three Wishes

Sometimes, when I'm not doing anything, I wish I had cute eccentric hobbies that I could then blog about.

I don't know why I have such an urge to deceive people on facebook, but I really want to change my status to "Max Clark just ran a marathon!" (I could dress it up, claim it was for needy kids this holiday season, but...it's better as is)

I want to fly like an eagle.

Hot Dog

when i was young and when i am now, i choose to wear a minimal amount of clothing and sit in front of a space heater. sometimes i also eat a bowl of cereal. it feels like this grotesque indulgence sometimes. especially when like...i could just go put on a sweatshirt and socks.

anyway, i don't feel so bad anymore, because my dog, bell, not only sits with me, she roots in. she takes the prime spot in front of the heater and i don't mind. i'm kind of impressed she can handle that kind of heat. and she doesn't wear any clothes at all.

actually, something just disturbed her. she just got up and went downstairs. do you think she can read?

whatever. the heater is mine for now.