I get that a lot.

So I'd like to think I have a wide and varied taste in music. But I think everyone says that, so even I'm not sure how true it is for me, that's what I usually tell people. I think a lot of it depends on what I'm doing and who I'm with. For example, normally I'm not a fan at all of pop or dance music, but when I'm out dancing with the roommates and getting shot down by pretty girls at the bar I get kinda into it.

And as much as I hate myself for saying this is a semi-public forum, I also think country music is okay when it's live and you're at a country bar. Plus, cowboy hats on women are hot. Just sayin.

Now all that being said, when it's just me typing out a blog entry it's usually Metal coming from the laptop speakers (at the moment it's Hail the Villain). Now I could probably be more specific, but the truth of the matter is I don't give a hungover dinosaur's fossilized shit about all the different classifications. If I like a band, I listen to them, don't care if they're post-apocalyptic or black thrash symphonic. Funny story, didn't make up those genres.

But it's pretty easy and accurate to call me a metal-head. Even if I don't fit into the whole "metal scene" very well.

I relate more to the huge metal fan.

But last week I tagged along with one of my roommates who had some friends having a birthday party. I'd met Lisa and James both before and I get along really well with them...because we talk about music. It fucking rocks. I don't really know a lot of people who I share a similar taste in music with, but these two? Pretty much identical. I almost felt bad for Aubz.

Almost. Muahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahaahahahaah!

But I had a pretty awesome time at the party. Kinda interesting though, as it kinda reinforced the whole "Sam doesn't come off a metal loving dude" thing I got going on. It turns out that James knows a couple guys in a local metal band where he lives and they all made it out to the party. The drummer started to, in a way I can only describe as "establishing my credentials", question me about my top 5 favorite metal bands. Of course, I passed with flying fucking colors and an announcement of "he knows his shit".

Let me clear this up. I've been a fan of Metal since I was 14. Of course I know my shit. But it was a fucking great time getting trashed and talking about music all night. I love talking about Metal.

But I guess I don't look like I do. Everyone else there was in black band hoodies and t-shirts all with piercings and tattoos. I have no piercings or tattoos and the only black pants I own are part of an old work uniform. But it doesn't bother me. But just because I don't look like a metal fan doesn't mean I'm not one.

Also an acceptable form of Heavy Metal.

Want to know one of my favorite musical things? When a big scary hardcore metal band just slows the fuck down and puts out a ballad love song type dealy. That stuff blows my mind.

Cause while I may be a metal fan, I'm also a sappy geek who likes love songs.

That's me. I'm going to go all Apocalyptica on the Slipknot holding up the Trivium of In Flames.

Sam the Prof







P.S. Shout out to Rhonda who I ran into at the grocery store today and reminded me that she finds her way here from time to time.

The way I do it is better.

Yeah I'm kinda into science.

Science fiction that is.

Star Wars, Star Trek, Big Bang Theory (it's not real!), that shit is awesome. But biology? Screw that. That's what I have a doctor for. I'd say that's what I have Web M.D. for, but every time I check that when I'm sick I convince myself I have fucking Ebola or something.

Chemistry? Apparently I only like it when it looks cool, like in Breaking Bad.

Physics? I'm big into stuff where the rules of physics are broken.Teleporters and time travel for everybody! (Just don't fuck up the universe as I'm still waiting for a few books to come out this year). But even still I'm not all that sure what those rules are.

God AND science? This seems legit.

If I could do anything with science I wish that I could change up my personality from time to time. Almost like some sort of disorder, but not quite as I'm nuts enough. But some days I wish I was more outgoing and excited about stuff that has nothing to do with books or movies or the slight chance of getting laid.

It's just that I realized the other day that I got more excited watching the new trailer for the Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey than I have for anything else in the last month or so. It'd be kinda nice to be the center of attention for once in a positive way... as in without tequila. But I can live without being the life of the party. Know what I can't live without? Veins.

Prove it!

Comic book science is cool too. Know what happens in real life if a radioactive spider bites you?

I don't know either, and I'm afraid to google it cause spiders are the unholy spawn of the world destroyer and I don't want to walk around the rest of my day with fucked up stories of radioactive spiders in my head. (oddly, no problem at all with Spider Man).

But I'm pretty sure you'd die. Or become horribly disfigured.

Know how many comic book superheros got their powers form some form of radiation? Conservatively I'm going to say ALL OF THEM. In real life, again, death, disfigurement and all your friends calling you Sloth for the rest of your life.

Science, cooler when it's not real.

That's me HEEEEEYYYY YOOOOUUUUU GUUUUUYYYYYSSS.

Professor Sam

They really don't.

The other day at work one of the little old ladies on the packing line asked me to lift up some boxes for her.  As a big, strong, young man (laadddiiiiieeeesss) of course I helped her out. The rule at work is if someone asks you to lift something, you fucking help. And it was a nice little old lady who's nice to me. The boxes were rather heavy, but I'm superhero (laaaaddddddiiiieeeesss) and it was no problem at all.

However.

Coming back from my break I see her carrying the same boxes, one under each freaking arm! And then I no longer felt superheroic. Holy balls I probably couldn't do that myself. Sweet little old Grandma lady played up being all infirm and grandma-like to get out of lifiting some boxes. She could be a ninja or a spy or some shit. I feel...unclean (That also could be the Taco Bell).

If that is your real name, "Grandma"

Does anyone think the words "testicle" and "vestibule" seem connected on some weird way? I need someone else to back me up on this cause when I mentioned it to the roomie Kate, she gave me that looks that make me think I am a crazy person.

AnD i MiGhT bE!

But I still think the words are oddly similar.

A week or 2 ago I had a great night out, but it kinda started in a cool way that's kinda been stuck in my head for a while. Dinner and wine. That's all. But it was awesome. I don't usually have a nice dinner with friends and sit around with a couple bottles of wine and just kinda hang out and talk all night. (and then a great rest of the night at a bar with live music, more drinks and dancing). I rather enjoyed it., I guess it's not something I've ever really done a whole lot before.

Say the word loofah. Loo-fah. Looooooooooooooofffffffaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Last Friday at work I was in the locker room and somebody noticed my shirt was on inside out. Didn't really bug me as we wear uniforms and such. Then somebody else noticed my shorts were on inside out. Now, this was slightly concerning because I've been dressing myself for years and I'd hope I'd notice something like this when I was putting the clothing on. What more's, my socks: inside out and mismatched. What.The.Fuzzy. Didn't even get dressed in the dark or anything. Weird.

Okay. Quick dating thing. You like a girl, and you're damn sure she's interested. you ask her out and she say no and that kinda sucks. You ask her friend what happened and apparently the way you asked her out is what caused her to say no. That is confusing as shit.

This one actually didn't happen to me.

Yet.

But it was a drunken story someone told me that I thought was kinda messed up. For all I know he asked her all rape-y. Still.

Anywho that's me. Titles for my blog entries don't mean all that much.

SpAmalanthalas

And we have a winner...and a whiner.

So after drawing a short crappy cartoon of a sea/monster crocodile thingy eating a person this morning I decided what to use my Star Wars journal for. I'm going to try writing poetry again! I'm not sure how this is going to turn out, cause sometimes poetry is fucking hard.

Other times it's hilariously easy

Plus with a mysterious journal that I carry around and write it I can leave it very specific and planned out places for women to pick up. And if movies have taught me anything it's that when a girl you like reads your poetry (or song lyrics) she immediately gets an uncontrollable urge to blow you. That's science.

Want to know what else is science?

Breaking Bad.

Want to hear an awesome story?

Of course you do, all my stories are awesome. Or embarrassing, in which case my friends think they are awesome and my brothers get ideas of what they're going to say at my wedding reception. (at this point it'll probably be at an all you can buffet in Vegas after getting drunk and hooking up with a stripper).

Anyways so our friend Cow (the dude who was living with us from France) unfortunately left just before Christmas to continue his travels and hopefully open up his repertoire of lame physical comedy. We miss his dumb ass already.

So the sneaky bastard hid a present for all of us (his roommates) in his old closet. I'm assuming he guessed that whoever took over his room would move the basket in his closet and find what he left. And damn I was super impressed by the deviousness of the plan. He got us the first season of Breaking Bad, a show I don't think anybody had really watched but that we knew he liked a lot. Dammit I wish he around to watch it with now. It's super awesome, but really dark and kinda funny in weird ways. I'm really into it.

Oh and speaking of roommates, duh. We have a new one! It's Katie (not to be confused with Kate). She actually Lived with a bunch of other friends of ours last year. So we're sure she's not some unknown degenerate serial killer....so far.

That's me. Titles don't mean much to me anymore.

Your friendly, neighbourhood SPIDER-SAM

My imagination goes wild when I walk home

Sometimes I listen music on YouTube. Sometimes I listen to music on iTunes. Today for some reason I had both open. I wanted to turn down the volume on my music to watch a YouTube video. I turned the volume on YouTube down.

Turns out that, along with friends and random people searching for funny pictures, some people I don't like read this blog. No clue why. But here's a shout out: Fuck you enemies!

I'm pretty indifferent about the weather, but I'm pretty sure most of the time I prefer snow to rain.

Get back to work!

Sometimes I hear people say "Well you can't blame them for trying."  Well of course you fucking can. You can blame anybody for anything as long as you can justify it (to yourself). Watch this. Right now, at this very moment, I'm going to blame George Lucas for trying to make his prequel Star Wars trilogy better than his original Star Wars trilogy.

...

...

...

...

...

There we go, I just blamed him for trying. Fucking Gunguns.

The other day I was waiting for a city bus, and a school bus pulled up to the stop. Because of traffic the school bus was stopped there for a while. Some kids waved at me, so I waved back. The kids gave me the peace sign. So I gave them the peace sign back. The kids made faces at me, so I made faces back. At that point I decided I was probably being fucking creepy and I should stop. Even though it probably made some kid's day, I bet some 10 year old went home and told his parents how a guy at a bus stop was making faces at him and his buddies.

I swear to god I nearly wet myself when I saw the movie trailer for the Hobbit. Probably in the exact same way I nearly wet myself the first time I saw a trailer for the Lord of the Rings.

I did both!

My roommate is in Israel right now. For the last week or so I've been coming up with ways to convince her that we're letting a homeless dude stay in her room while she's gone. But she's not gullible enough so she'd never buy it. then I though about just actually letting a homeless dude use her room while she's away, but those ideas were just as unreasonable.

I've been walking home from work at night (goddamn new bus system) and last night I saw deer. The more I think about it it was probably the same motherfucking animal I hit on my bike. And by "hit on my bike" I mean trying to die by throwing itself in front of my bicycle. Which is everybody's favorite story for some reason.

I read a whole helluva lot. But it's kinda funny, when I'm browsing funny pictures online I read the captions in different voices. When I read books I don't read the words out loud in my head. I don't understand my own brain sometimes. Also, I don't get funny cat pictures. I love cats, I understand why the pictures are supposed to be funny...but most of the time I can't even crack a smile.

Okay that's it. I'm done.

That's me.

Professor Spammy

I like to watch

Okay so I had a great time watching my neighbours go full on white trash last week. Actually I'm always a fan of watching couples fight in public....cause it's not me.

Except this one time it was.

I got into a huge fight with the girl I dated in High School in the middle of a Dairy Queen. It was actually the "break up" fight. Ish. We kinda hooked up a few times after that, but the DQ incident was the end of the romantic relationship (much to the delight of friends and family). Like all stupid public fight between couples it started as something small and then snowballed to the point of no return.

Also, didn't even get any ice cream.

I like to try to diffuse a situation with humor...sometimes it doesn't go so well.

She didn't think it was funny.

So there! I've been on the other end of a couple yelling at each other in a  public place...but I still think it's fun to watch. Again, when it's not me.

HEY LOOK AN ABRUPT SUBJECT CHANGE!

HOLY SHIT! WHERE?

Never mind it's gone already.

So one of my awesome Christmas present was a Star Wars notebook. But not like a 6 year old's activity book, like a real hardcover journal type thing. It's fucking awesome.

(By the way I have so much star wars shit now that I need some kind of Star Wars nook to display it all)

But I'm scared to fucking use the thing.

I have a couple notebooks filled with short story ideas and blog notes and such, but all those are dollar store crap. I'm a bit uncomfortable with writing down bad jokes or cool date ideas in something so awesome. Not that the person who gave it to me would mind (She lives with the biggest joke I know). I'd love to bring it to work, but there's not a lot of downtime and I prefer to read when I'm on my break. Besides, the environment isn't exactly "star wars journal" friendly.

I hate brushing my teeth too.

 I need to find a use for it that is equal to it's awesomeness. 

Cookbook? Yeah I got nothing yet.

That's me. Dammit I really want a fucking Star Wars nook.

Professor Smoosh

You know you're a redneck when....

Christmas was fun.

New Years was drama filled.

However, neither event was the highlight of the holidays, that award goes to the complete meltdown of the neighbours across the street. It was a sight to behold. And behear? I guess I'm making up words again today.

But first I need to give you some background. Just so you guys can appreciate this as much as I did. Also I'm probably a bad person for finding all this so entertaining, but that's okay, since I came to peace with that a long time ago.

Oh and I should probably tell you I used to be a big fan of Jerry Springer and Maury Povitch. If you don't know who/what those people/t.v. shows are you should google that shit. Also, my bedroom window faces the street. It's an important part of the story. Ish.

Sometime during this last summer the house directly across the street from us got the nickname "the crack house". I don't know who named it that, or why, but it definitely stuck. Then it got weird. And creepily real. The variety of cars that would pull up late at 1 or 2 in the morning just long enough for somebody to run in and out of the house. The odd older gentleman with the ponytail and the glazed over eyes riding his longboard up and down the street. That one afternoon I fell asleep with a book on the recliner out front and woke up to find 3 people standing in their driveway staring at me. That guy who spent the entire summer working on his truck blaring new Metallica (new Metallica sucks) asking me if the cops kept an eye on the neighbourhood.

Kinda weird right? But whatever. We'd crack the odd joke about them but nothing ever really happened.

Now, fast forward to a few days ago.

(See what I did there? Normally you can't fast forward to the past, but today we're playing with the rules of time and space motherfucker. This has nothing to do with the fact that I watched a couple Star Trek movies this week. NOTHING!)

So last week I left my bedroom window open a bit, like I usually do. This let me hear all the screaming that started at about 8am. It was loud. I thought it was coming from downstairs for some reason, even though I've been mostly by myself in the house during the holidays. Not to mention, my housemates aren't much for screaming in the living room first thing in the morning...sober...on a weekday.

Groggy, but curious as hell, I go downstairs. Nobody's there but I can still hear the yelling. Color me confused. Now it sounds like it's coming from outside. I peek out the living room window and oh what a sight awaited me.

Full on redneck white trash appeared before me in all it's skuzzy glory. A creepily skinny brunette wearing a too-small pink bathrobe and slippers holding a cigarette in one shaking hand, is yelling at this dude with baggy pants, a wife-beater (The t-shirt, not like a stick or something) and a bandanna wrapped around his neck.

The girl is on the left, the guy is on the right and in the middle is some garbage.

Naturally I ran upstairs where I could hear better and pulled the blind on my window up just enough that I could watch the show.

Pink bathrobe is screaming DAVID! DAVID! DAVID!

"David" is walking up the street.

Pink bathrobe is all "GODDAMN IT COME BACK HERE AND TALK TO ME!"

"David" keep walking up the street.

Pink bathrobe keeps yelling "IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU BASTARD"

"David" turns around and makes a show about lighting a cigarette.

"FINE YOU FUCKING BASTARD BE THAT WAY!"

"David" starts walking away again.

Someone else come sout of the house, get into the car in the driveway.

Pink bathrobe keeps doing what she's good at: "FUCK YOU BOTH" and starts kicking the car as it pulls out the driveway.

The car pulls up beside Dave and he gets in and the car dives off.

Pink bathrobe starts muttering and slams the door of her house as she goes back inside.

Weird thing to wake up to right? Then I fell back on my bed, got back asleep and had a dream where I was married and had a child destined to destroy the world.

That's me. Real life is better than t.v. sometimes. Which is nice considering I don't have cable.

Spammy