Today was a day just like any other.

In times like these.

Shaved face, had a fire, woke up at 11, ate at Franklin, dorm stormed, ate a cheeseburger, rode my bike from Sunderland to NoHo. Next step, get on a bus, shower, do it all over.

Sup dud

Julie and I broke up, I'm in my 5th year at UMass (with two BA's done and a minor on the way), and I still hate olives. This week, I continue to try conquering tomatoes.

"Shit!" ...and Other Stuff About Being Pist

Lips, Ross, Dale and I just got back from a roadtrip which took us from Florida to Cape by car. During my trip I learned many things, mainly that Dale's farts are horrible and colitis is a sad-sad disease. Towards the end of the trip, we affectionately referred to ourselves as "Team Pist", because of our generally shitty attitudes towards each other and the world, serious or otherwise.

Let me tell you some shit about being pist, its fucked. Pist isn't like being mad or angry. It's when you get so pist that you start saying shit that isn't about cunt but shit. I can't really explain the idea behind being pist, you just have to live it. Like an orgasm, you'll know when it happens.

The point of this post is to declare the beginning to what will probably end up becoming a lifelong endeavor, the book of Jim Barabe, the bible of NH, a libro prompted and edited by Neil Johnson. My high school english teacher thinks that the idea of "being pist" has already been monopolized by "Shit My Dad Says" and George Carlin, both of which are dead. Is pist dead forever? Possibly, seeing as "Torrets Guy" is also supposedly dead. Regardless, I'm going to write a book and try to get on TV with it or maybe not, but I really don't care because I won't want to pay the money to publish anyways.

NH, NC,
-Jim

PhiBD 2010

Can't say that I just woke up, but it is 740am. I tossed around in bed since 1230 last night. Hope band camp goes well, shouldn't be too bad.

Lucy is sitting on Julie's head, ha.

Hi.

Heres a picture to get your attention.

Long Story Short:

Tila Tequila went to Juggalo Fest and get a bunch a rocks thrown at her. When you suck so bad that even Juggalos hate you, you know your in a shitty place in life.

It's one thing to have a strange sense of humor. It's a completely different thing to have no sense of humor but still be funny. I'm curious why my friends and I come up with the jokes that we do. Most people that meet me, immediately think that I'm a bit outspoken and strange, but truth be it, most of my inspiration comes from friends at home including but not limited to Bryan West, Lips, Chris Kelly, Steves (A joke in itself, I don't have a friend named Steve plural), Bryan Way, the crazy everyday happenings of our lives, and the the unexpected moments that occurred because of drug use or conveniently fucked up mishaps.

Since turning 21, I have gone to a bar only a handful of times. Cherry Bombs with Lip, Lisa and Chris Kelly, Black and Tans with Elaine, Guinness with the boys (this includes Julie) at Bobby Byrne's on the fateful day, and some scummy bar crap with Lip. The best thing about being legal is playing pool after midnight and free UFC matches. Although I haven't gotten into a bar for a fight yet, I hope that I can see a bunch this upcoming semester at the townie bar a few blocks away called Snowzees which used to be called Seven O's (a much better and less gay name).

Happy New Year

It's that time of year once again, people are singing, turkeys are in the wings, everyone is drunk, and suicide rates are up. I spent Thanksgiving with Juliet's family a few miles down the street and this year we got in and got out pretty quickly. For Christmas, I went back and forth between my house and Julie's mom's house. Julie's family is always interesting.
Top 3 List of Christmas Presents 2009:
1. Fender Active Jazz Bass V
2. Bath Robe, Sweaters, Classy Shirts, and Nice Socks
3. Charles Manson's dignity.