tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56252732011-06-07T23:40:49.321-07:00Spanning the Miles MajesticallyRobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.comBlogger261100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1169492587242466762007-01-22T11:02:00.000-08:002007-01-22T11:03:07.256-08:00Dear Amy,Shut up about my blog no one cares about this crap.Sincerely,Dr. Von BloggingtonRobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1150494063904591052006-06-16T14:39:00.000-07:002006-06-16T14:41:03.916-07:00Lately I can't stop listening to Tupac. It's like a lightbulb went on, and I suddenly get it. Because of that, it just feels fresh and new to me. And I haven't had anything like that in music for a while.Don't get me wrong, it's not like suddenly I identify with the words because I know how hard it is to grow up on the streets or whatever. That's not it at all.I've always liked the music in rap -Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1145368131092287722006-04-18T06:45:00.000-07:002006-04-18T06:48:51.106-07:00You didn't believe me, did you?It's ok. I have proof. For one entire day I decided to answer my phone every time it rang, and keep a record of it. Maybe now you'll understand where I'm coming from.7:31am: A girl who works for me calling to ask if the vacation calendar is open so she can be off today.7:47am: A different girl who works for me calling to say she's not coming to work because she is Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1145135453513866962006-04-15T14:01:00.000-07:002006-04-15T14:10:53.540-07:00Oh hell yes do I hate having a cell phone. Or really any phone. I wish the only way to contact me was through email.I seriously need to attend anger management in relation to my hatred of my cell phone. I mean yes, it's a crappy model and the battery doesn't last too long. But that's not why I hate it.I hate my phone because everyone calls me all the time, and I don't ever want to talk to them. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1144975582754379762006-04-13T17:29:00.000-07:002006-04-13T17:46:22.776-07:00I've been trying to come to grips with the fact that I am average. I mean, not everyone can be special. By definition that just wouldn't work.I think I have come to grips with that fact, or I'm just lying to myself.I think I'm one of the most selfish people I know. Yep. I just thought about it for a minute, and I could only think of one person that I actually know who is more selfish than I am. (Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1127178158544573822005-09-19T17:32:00.000-07:002005-09-19T18:02:38.583-07:00Perhaps this blog will come back to life. You know why? Recently, my job has gotten extremely boring. I'm scheduled to work from 11am to 8pm. I usually finish all my work by 6pm. So the 6 to 8pm time slot leaves me a chance to blog. It's a unique situation, because the proxy at work blocks me from visiting my usual websites. (No not porn sites. Gaming sites / gaming forums.) So my choice of Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1126980613572433142005-09-17T10:31:00.000-07:002005-09-17T11:10:13.613-07:00And another thing...Well, I'm lucky to have my job but it's really boring. Especially on a Saturday. I have a picture on my desk, and this picture happened to be taken during the single happiest moment of my life. I'm going to explain the moment, but it takes a lot of back story.For most of my life I have been obsessed with music. I started taking piano lessons when I was 12. I love playing the Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1126972224666909892005-09-17T08:24:00.000-07:002005-09-17T08:50:27.986-07:00Admittedly, I'm a huge nerd. I say this without hesitation because some part of me thinks that by admitting this, it makes me less of a nerd. The truest nerds don't even realize that they are nerds. Nevertheless, just realizing that I am a nerd doesn't change the fact that I am.I love video games. I've loved them ever since I was 10 and my best friend Greg got a Nintendo. I got blisters on my Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1122833690427975492005-07-31T11:13:00.000-07:002005-07-31T11:14:50.433-07:00Vacuum out the pickle curse and feel electric.Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1122099917489576712005-07-22T22:53:00.000-07:002005-07-22T23:25:17.496-07:00Man, disappointment is probably the most disappointing thing I can think of. As I write this, I am listening to the last song on a new album from one of my favorite bands. I won't say which band, because the album hasn't been released yet and I don't want to go to jail. But this first listen is disappointing and it's bumming me out. I'm allowed to write shittily because no one will ever read thisRobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1114657664046991002005-04-27T20:02:00.000-07:002005-04-27T20:09:19.170-07:00Today Rob wrote:Around 3AM today my mind wandered the aisles of poetry while I slept, pushing an old shopping cart with one broken wheel.Around 4am today my mind found what is was looking for, perched high on a shelf, somewhere in the "home and garden" department. There were no employees around to helpfully lower it using tiny stepladders. There were no tall men around that my mind could stop to Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1110134169501287642005-03-06T10:05:00.000-08:002005-03-06T10:36:09.506-08:00Like most of the blogs out there, this one is pretty much a ghost town. But for some reason Jay wants a link to it anyway, and I feel like you do when your friend announces he's on his way to your house so you rush around to clean stuff up as best you can. So here is my "clean up" post.In the movie "Adaptation" one of the main characters is this guy John Laroche, and he's one of those sort of "Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1093302461878689452004-08-23T16:03:00.000-07:002004-09-25T15:22:33.616-07:00And now I will muse on a selected quote from the song: "Waitin for a Superman" by the Flaming Lips
Cause it's gettin heavy
well I thought it was already as heavy as can be
Tell everybodyWaitin' for Superman
That they should try to hold on the Best they can
He hasn't dropped them, Forgot them Or anything
It's just too heavy for Superman to lift
This song hits me hard on a couple of different Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1093223664121103132004-08-22T17:46:00.000-07:002004-08-22T18:14:24.120-07:00In many ways the memories of your life sort of melt together into vague feelings and blurry images. To me, this is especially true for the memories of my childhood. In fact they are hardly memories at all, but feelings I can never quite pin down exactly. The thing is, most of my memories from being very small are very happy, but spending time in them just makes me sad. I wonder exactly why that Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-109297418444002052004-08-19T20:37:00.000-07:002004-08-19T20:59:31.943-07:00As with every blog I've ever written, I come here to write a post without the slightest inkling of what I might say. Here's how it goes: I get on the internet, go to all the usual sites, get bored with them and then turn on Cubase to try to write some music. But the muse is gone today, so it's back to the internet. Then I remember I have a blog, and I go look at it. Then I look at Scott's blog. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1086546685112405572004-06-06T11:29:00.000-07:002004-06-06T11:31:25.113-07:00Current Listening:
Love is Hell - Ryan Adams (this album is awesome)
Phantom Power - Super Furry Animals
A Century Ends - David Gray
Last Broadcast - The Doves
DJ Kicks - Thievery Corporation
In Tune and On Time - DJ ShadowRobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1084504426101288532004-05-13T20:10:00.000-07:002004-05-13T20:19:29.543-07:00Current Listening:
Jon Frusciante - Shadows Collide with People
Death Cab for Cutie - Transatlanticism
Wilco - A Ghost is Born
Beta Band - Zeroes to Heroes
Snow Patrol - Final Straw
Marc Byrd - The Best of Marc Byrd as compiled by Me. Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1082940275474894852004-04-25T17:44:00.000-07:002004-04-25T17:47:37.763-07:00So I'm listening to this band called "Air" and I have done everything that can be done on the internet. This leaves me bored, but the music so good that I don't want to stop listening to it, so I thought I would blog while I listen, which is probably dangerous since I don't have a point. But here goes.
Here's the thing about Christian rock. In general, I don't like it anymore. When I used to Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1081911076441583202004-04-13T19:51:00.000-07:002004-04-13T19:54:06.466-07:00I didn't know it was a gay Thomas Edison that hired me
Inventing new ways each day to sodomize me
I guess all I can do now is clench and twist
clench and twist.Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1071795403098707152003-12-18T16:56:00.000-08:002003-12-18T16:57:36.310-08:00Jambalaya Pasta
Jambalaya pasta black man preachin hallelujah
Jambalaya pasta black man preachin hallelujah
Can I get a witness chocolate easta bunny sex
I said Jambalaya pasta black man preachin hallelujah
Can
I
Get
A
Witness chocolate easta bunny sex hat miracle foreskin somebody say amen
Now jamboree scooter nose job viper
Donkey kong alien peanuts por favor
But Jambalaya pasta black Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1063979828027963072003-09-19T06:57:00.000-07:002003-09-19T06:57:07.396-07:00How pervasive is piracy? I don't know, why are you asking me? I don't know anything about it or how it works or anything I don't even own a computer stop bothering me I've gotta go plow some fields with a horse cause I don't even believe in electricity.
But what I do know something about is the pervasiveness of AP articles about piracy. I think if the recording industry spent as much money Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1060009362368946582003-08-04T08:02:00.000-07:002003-08-04T08:02:42.270-07:00Avast, ye scurvy dockets! Due process Ahoy! (A scene from the upcoming John Grisham pirate drama)
Anyway, I've added some links. I hope to add a new "Random Surprise" link every week or so.
Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1059927579301513582003-08-03T09:19:00.000-07:002003-08-03T09:19:39.310-07:00ah-hem.
Rice cheating foyer children exercise my basketball milk faucet shadow puppets for earlobe stomach pumps to race my leg home from the shoes, meat-centered with mace flavored trash babies.
The unofficial menopause championship and the unwelcome mat with scarcely tentative glowworm liberation, and my stools glow in the dark, while whiffle ball addicts awkwardly tune their closets to spareRobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1059657174784174842003-07-31T06:12:00.000-07:002003-07-31T06:12:54.823-07:00First: I would like to thank Heather for her HTML magic.
Second: Originally Scott gave me an assignment to write for this blog. I don't think I'm going to do that. I think I'm just going to write whatever I want.
Third: You know, "Harry Balsagna" cracks me up every time I think of it. But I can't help but wonder, "Aren't I too old for this stuff now?" and then I think "No. You should make a Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1059455780422875802003-07-28T22:16:00.000-07:002003-07-28T22:16:20.446-07:00Mr. Balsagna is working feverishly to produce a writing worth posting. In the meantime, you can peruse this sample from a recent IM conversation he had. We were trying to think of a name for a song my friend had written. I hope you enjoy it.
"The Angry Back Porch Blues"
MetalHorse says:
lol
Rob says:
"The Back Porch is Angry at my Lute"
MetalHorse says:
lmao
Rob says:
"Sticking a Lute up the Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625273.post-1059454535307383472003-07-28T21:55:00.000-07:002003-07-28T21:55:35.320-07:00This is a test albatross.Robhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637995410427905477noreply@blogger.com0