i lived in a trailer in the woods. i shot paint cans for fun. i looked forward to my bath in the cowtub. i m country.

visit: cho dan online

new and improved. (opens in new window)

Back in town, the buzz from downunder and we come with thunder.

Perhaps we can lead a post revolution, eh Sammy J? Perhaps we can repost select items from the archive. Indeed, I went searching through the early days a few moments ago, and boy, oh boy, there was some real sweet stuff. Nostalgia still remains supreme in my heart.

That's nice, that's REAL nice.

By the way, what ever happened to the old blogger, where everyone went post crazy?

Those were the days.

A chunkier Hsieh demonstrates the correct way to do the "Hsieh-link" toss.

Because it's so good!

This trumpet man knows where izzat.

the beginning:
My Little Girl.

There was a knock on the Metcalf family door...Anne opened the door.

"Hi!" A strange person said, "I am Matthew Szabo, and my family is new to the neighborhood..."

Anne smiled and accepted a basket of bread and muffins that he or his wife had put together for them.

Anne smiled, "Thank you, but you didn't have to...I mean you are the guests, I should have given you a basket..."

A 10 year old Hank and a 7 year old Jeff were fighting in the background. "It's my room! Mom told me that I could have it!" Jeff yelled

"Well, baby brother. It is mine! I am older and you will just have to wait until I move to China!"

Jeff tried to hurt Hank but he put his hand on Jeff's forehead with an outstretched arm watching his younger brother squirm.

"Boys!" Anne yelled, "we have company!" The two kept on fighting until they heard a voice in the background.

"Boys! Do as your mother says!" Hank ran up to this tall, dark and handsome man. "Hey Pop!" Hank yelled as he jumped into his arms. Stephen Metcalf walked to the front door while he was holding his oldest son upside down. He stretched his hand in order to shake Mr. Szabo's hand. "How ya doin? I'm Stephen Metcalf."

Mr Szabo smiled and shook his hand. Stephen had a firm handshake and a wide smile. "I see you have met my beautiful wife." He said putting Hank down and putting one of his hands on Anne's shoulder.

"Well, I just wanted to meet some of our new neighbors" Mr Szabo said pausing, "...and when my wife calls, you make sure and tell her that I stopped by..." he started to walk away, "oh...and before I forget...I saw that you have a little girl..." Anne and Stephen smiled and nodded their heads.

"Well, my little girl, Virginia, wanted to meet her, but was refused to come over until she got a new dress...I was wondering if you wouldn't mind bringing your little girl over to meet my Ginger..."

Stephen smiled, "we would love to! Linda has been waiting to have a girl friend...though she loves to play with her brothers!"

Mr Szabo began to walk away when Anne said, "Thank you again!"

The front door was shut, "Well, that was nice of him to come over here..." Anne said with a slight smile.

"Oh, Anne I forgot to tell you...I have to work late tonight..."

Anne didn't question him. She just smiled and turned to Hank and Jeff. "Hank, you can move your stuff into the bigger room... Jeff, you take Hank's old room. It isn't as big as the guest room, but at least we are letting you switch! Linda! Linda!" Anne shouted upstairs. A little eight year old girl with pig tails a pair of dirty jeans one of Hanks undershirts, and a
baseball cap walked down the stairs. "Yeah, Mother?" she said very obediently. Anne looked at her, "there is a new girl in the neighborhood and I want you to put some clean clothes on and march right down there to meet her!" Linda groaned, "Aww mom! I don't want to meet some dumb dora!"

Anne looked at her with a stern face, "Just do it young lady, and you watch your mouth before I wash it out with soap. How would you feel if you moved to a new place and the only little girl in the neighborhood wouldn't meet you?"

Linda smiled, "I would play with my brothers..."

Anne glared at her, "Move it young lady. I don't have time to argue. Linda...put on that new dress your father bought for you."

Linda looked down and kicked the stair she was standing on, "Mom, dresses are for sissy's..." Anne looked up at her and she ran upstairs to put it on.

no idea who wrote this, it wasn't me, i tell you

Professor: Dr. Lung-Ji Chang
Field: Molecular Genetics and Microbiology
UF Student Science Program Students: Niraj R. Nathan, Harsh C. Patel

The following students won awards at the 40th Annual Florida JSEHS, held February 2-4, 2003, at the University of Florida. The top speaker winner was selected to represent Florida at the National Junior Science and Humanities Symposium (NJSHS) and was awarded a $4,000 scholarship to the university of her choice. Four additional speaker winners were awarded all expense-paid trips to the NJSHS in April, 2003.



Kaley Tash,
St. Petersburg Senior High School, St. Petersburg
"The Models by Which Poliovirus-1 (Mahoney) and Tracer Bacteriophages Adsorb to Filters and Mixed Liquor Suspended Solids";
Teacher Mentor: Mrs. Ann Murphy

Congratulations, Kaley!

Hsieh makes everyone happy, even this senior citizen.

We give the Hsieh Link 2 fingers out of 2!

Even Kirk can't pass up an opportunity to check out the Hsieh Link.

The "Mike" of the Asian world shows us his best attempt at a smile.

Hsieh (middle) shakes hands with his biggest fan.

Kirk doesn't have much endurance and thus, when the mission calls for it, Adams must utilize his hiddren energy reserves, propping Kirk up on his sturdy backside.

Treich and Mike get ready to step out of the elevator. Who knew they were meant for each other?

?????????????/

Hey, wait...no...they mixed up the signs. I must be going only 50 mph.

After testing Hsieh's new game, they thought it was "SO GOOD"!

Hsieh and the fam glance at a new strong bad email. Yet, notice the box of munchies on the lower right.

Hsieh pushes the envelope here.

Even after substantial facial alteration surgery, Kirk will always be Kirk.

After leaving his banana under his bed for four long years, Aleksas could not stop it from climbing to the window and gazing at the freedom it would never have.

At the Stenard household, we fight with sticks instead of stones.

The "A Team". Yeah, you know it's us.

I heard Kirk was around here.

Adams (left) and Kirk during happier times.

Cmon, Kirk, she knows it's you.

Kirk, we all know it's you.

Bah Humbug. If I ever knew a man with stool for a hand, it's Bill Maher. But his voice makes me whisper in the breeze, so all is not lost, dear friends.

- Leif Ericson

No, Bill Maher was the host of the now cancelled show, Politically Incorrect . It was cancelled largely because the show's sponsors didn't like Maher's opinions on topics concerning September 11, 2001.

Life is good in the neighborhood, so don't be a ghetto fabulous nun from Withita.

preview was great fun....oh ya! for those who love UF eat at the pita pit next to the swamp. its good eatin

Ugh, I feel like UPS. Really, reallly brown.

what i dont get is teh declines status on here

whats the problem? i ve been using that (this) format for months on the other blogs....its not a big deal...

There is no way to change the layout. Blogger changed it on us; I had and still have no control over it.

He now rides this bike.

It's amazing that Adams survived...



Only to wander the world alone.

Outside Stenard's home:

Adams relives his own version of Event Horizon.

Stenard - "Yeah, you're right. I only pump with my right arm. Gives me better aim with the scattershot."

Stenard lets us all know that he fixed his airsoft gun, and upgraded it just for the heck of it.

No one can resist Stenard's bulk, even this leather-clad woman.

The truth is, I have spent too much time in the sun. Hsieh is actually in the middle; the white azn spends too much time at his comp.

I suggest you all check out this site: BH is the best man

I know Hsieh posted this picture before, but I just have to say something:

Does she look familiar? I mean, am I the only one seeing the resemblance to a person that we all know?

Only you really know. All that I have is a glimpse, a fleeting look that changes with every glance.

Time is your friend. Buy him chocolates.

Wow, Rachelle, why were you up so late on Monday June 16th? Workin' late into the night on a new novel, play, or other form of literary work?

Is life really that simple?

Why do people have eyes?

Do we really need garbage trucks?

Where do the little gnomes go in my backyard when I go out to swim in the pool?

Is Cowboy Bebop a genre in and of itself?

Do I have three or four distinct ideas on the process of baking bread?

Does Adams really rap in his sleep?

Does Flanagan own a Bowie knife?

Does Brian really work out, or is he just naturally chiseled?

Where does Tiff go to get new soap?

If Stenard drank more milk than he already does, we he get any bigger?

How do Rachelle and Sarah put up with all that they must do?

Is Kevin Stewart an angst ridden teenage populist?

Why don't we listen to more classical music?

Why do powerful people often turn out nicer than weak people? Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?

Why do we joke? Is that all that we are about?

Why Adams...Why?

Did Kirk teleport to Europe, or did he actually take an airplane? If so, how does he obtain the energy that he does, and still avoid the process of sleeping often?

Does Mike know himself the way that we do? More importantly, do I know Mike the way everyone else does?

What ever happened to Tom Simms? Did he ruff up a bouncer and get bounced off this world?

Why do upcoming medical students seem to know less about medicine than your average english major?

Why am I the only one who likes the cool things in this world?

How can anyone like music where the only major concept is yelling, yelling, yelling, and more yelling (with a bit of depressed complaining)?

How does ChoDan do it?

Is IB really gone? Will it ever leave us?

Does anyone else know what I mean when I say "The Real Folk Blues" is so darn good?

Why Alfalfa? WHY? Bug whatever his name...a lucky guy with a knack for obtaining what it seems he could never achieve in real life.

Why do people care so much about REALLY stupid stuff that MEANS absolutely nothing, EVEN TO THEM?

Why is my perception so off, even right now?

Can you see a rainbow in your eyes, too?

How come I can fit the mold of any click, given the necessary amount of time?

Who cares about all the cowboys, where did all the good samaritans go?

Why do tires get punctured?

Why doesn't money fall from the sky?

Why do I get hurt when I bump my ankle on the side of a coffee table?

Why do I do the things I do when I do them?

Why doesn't the house clean itself?

How come Mama Hsieh's watermelon is SO GOOD?

Why do I see so much in art and then fail completely in explaining what emotion I see?

Why are we lazy?

Why are hermit crabs so helpless?

Why don't we play softball?

Why don't we play football?

Why don't we play basketball?

Why don't we stop dancing around the bush?

Why is it okay to dance around the bush?

Why do I dance around the bush?

Why does hypocricy exist?

Why is "Cats on Mars" so good?

Why do I long for a "felt tip pen"?

Why don't we all show some initiative?

Why are some things so hard, especially the easy things?

Why do some people hate everyone with a purpose of "not descriminating against anyone", and not realize that this philosophy will only breed mountains of unhappiness?

What's with all the arbitrary hatred?

What's with hating people for mistakes they made?

What's with hating someone for hating you?

What's with pride?

Why is pride such a force for some people, including myself?

Why doesn't it ever stop?

Why is the Q smile so good?

Why doesn't everyone know that ANY smile is just as good as the Q smile?

Why...don't we just get along...as friends.

The world may never know.

Kirk promotes his new CD by placing his own grimacing face on the CD cover.

Love is cold. That's why you don't need.

I am interested in Mike.

Power is not John Adams. Power is Matt Szabo.

Sorry, it is Panera policy to take photographs of our favorite customers. You make the list with your "what do you have" comment.

The customer always comes first. That's why baldie left with a cinnamon cheeseburger. Good grief.

"Do you have cheeseburgers at Panera?"

- No.



"What do you have?"

- Probably not want you want.

It's tough workin' it with the folk. A personal connection? Quite tough when you gots people like this to work with.

Come sample my twist on Panera bread: The Szabo shuffle.

Clmon. What up.

Life, or Driving mr. leary

By Matt Szabo

When I met Edward Leary, I sure as heck didn't expect him to have any significant effect on my way of life. I mean sure, the little rascal would alter my drive to work by about a few miles every morning: instead of stopping by the local coffee shop next to Home Depot I would take a more southward route towards the small and humble Leary home. Heck, I didn't mind losing out on my commercial coffee. Eleanor, Edward's attractive, divorced mother, promised she would prepare me a fresh cup for every day I picked her young offspring for elementary school.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, " I said again and again as she politely tried to get me to decline, a sure indication of absolute desperation. I was happy to oblige; it's not that often that you get to do a pretty woman a favor and get a caffeine fix in addition. He didn't look like too much trouble anyway.

At least that's what I thought when I first saw him. His short unruly hair obviously showed the signs of attempted straightening - undoubtedly by his mother - and this simple observation gave me a sense of ease. If he was anything like his mother, he would be the most well behaved boy in the neighborhood, and her attempts to fix his hair showed that she was willing to instill her values in the child. At least, that's what I thought.

It's funny how simple observations can turn out quite ironic. At the time I inferred obedience and kindness in those distorted locks, in the end they symbolized quite the opposite. After kissing her son goodbye and the compulsory "behave", we were off down the driveway to my Taurus. I opened the door and expected him to "hop in", which is exactly what I said. Imagine my suprise when he followed my intstructions literally, except for the added "boing boing" which he decided to mouth in a lisp-impaired cackle. I ignored it: all kids love to have fun...why not when you're getting in the car?

Everything returned to normal for about five minutes. I pulled out of the driveway, drove down the residential road, and pulled onto the expressway, all to a low humming sound emitting from Edward. I didn't know what song it was, but then again, I didn't really care. This kid was gonna be in my life for 15 minutes a day for 5 days...I figured what's the point and decided not to get involved.

Hah. No sooner had we passed a billboard advertising repeats of the tv show "Friends" when the little munchkin decided to render his version of the theme song, complete with lispy spit flying everywhere. I listened with horror as the little horror yelled "I'LL BE THERE FOR YOU" at the top of his voice (in a note completely off scale). Trust me, it was more annoying than Jim Carey's noise in "Dumb and Dumber"...it actually made you seize up all over your body including the hands and feet, which is definitely not good during driving. As I tried to gain control of my body and the car moving at 85 mph because of a spasming foot, the little man reached over and grabbed the shifter and switched to reverse, which was quite troubling considering my position. The tires squeeled, spraying smoke into the air, and I thankfully regained control of my hands at just the right time, jerking the steering wheel to the left in order to dodge and incoming semi from the rear. We spilled off the road into a sewage ditch, which, unfortunately, was quite full considering it had rained on and off for the past three days.

Thankful to be alive, I jumped out of the car and trudged through the mucky water to the passenger side where the little demon child sat with wide eyes, clapping his hands in ecstasy. I opened the door and he stepped out grinning even wider and cried, "Awethummmbb". I glanced at my car. Crap.

I dropped him off at school, went to the mechanic and got four new tires, and then I took the day off from work. All I needed was a 3 hour bath to think of my simple plan for tomorrow's nightmare.

I arrived with a roll of ducktape. They say it's so strong it can even keep a beefy convicted felon tightly bound. Well, whoever said that crap never tried to bind a 6 year old kid. Within minutes of tying the kid's hands down and keeping his mouth occupied with a bar of chocolate, he played an encore performance of his ode to "Friends" with a sequence of hand farts. We didn't have any driving escapades, but I was nonetheless perturbed beyond belief and decided to spend another day at home, this time with an ice pack for my delicate ears.

I eventually figured out how to keep him sane. I went out and bought a hand held gaming device and a game for $80. When he saw that, he turned into an old man playing chess...slow to respond, slow to hear, slow to care about anything except chess. I finished out my week, dropped him off at school, and that was it. I have a dinner date with Eleanor set for tomorrow night, so all in all, it was good.

But what have I learned? How will this affect my parental skills, assuming that I will someday have a child as my own? Yes. Ducktape sucks, videogames are GREAT for developing minds, and television is indeed a terrible influence on kids. Really, it is. If you don't believe me, have your six year old belt out the "Friends" theme while you're driving down the express way. Oh, by the way, make sure there's a ditch. No large bodies of water. None. Good luck, friend.

I didn't shoot a duck today. Instead, I fired a single round from my 44 magnum at a beetle crossing the road. A split second later there was no beetle anymore. Instead, there was a chipped piece of road and a single, crispy, antennae laying there, minding its own business. I know it was rather Barbaric, but they say I'm a descendant of the early Germanic Barbarians. So, when people ask me why I did it, I simply reply, "I was connecting with my roots."

everyone should just party all the time. that way there would be no more problems. at least thats how i see it...we might all be poor, but its not that bad. i only didn't party one night since summer started...prolly why i havent been on here too much.

Sorry, can't help you there. I'm stuck in a limbo where no one exists except for myself.

The Luck of the Irish

jay1000flavaz: dont be wierd
PoJo345: but what if it is my nature?
PoJo345: can you tell a dog to act like a cat?
jay1000flavaz: you re real scary
PoJo345: i think that fear can only come from a lack of understanding
jay1000flavaz: i thinking youre talking big out your ass
PoJo345: i thinking that yo' ass so big that it isn't your mouth that's speaking
PoJo345: i also am thinking that the world needs more people that aren't afraid of "weirdness", as long as it remains clear of perversion, which I am completely confident that my own case has not veered into this realm.
jay1000flavaz signed off at 12:58:56 PM.

Damn, Rico! You are...
82%


dateable! Attractive and confident, witty and charming, a healthy ambrosia-based diet... you're wanted in the 48 contiguous states, you slayer. Call me. Seduce me. Make me a woman (or man.) Not only do you know how to turn a girl's (or guy's) engines on, but you also know how to oil, lube and rotate it. You put the "elation" back into "relationship," and the "night" back into "one-night stand."

Ugh.......Bored. Bored.

Bored bored.

So bored.

You want to be bored?

Dang.

Me too.

Bored.

Bored.

So bored.

I am so boring...bored.

You so...active, nice and free....bored.

Boring bored the boring day the bored bored boring stuff.

come and bored with me the boring sun and its boring beaches and its boring rays and all its boring life and fun stuff boring boring boring.

How much boring can you handle?

1 boring
2 boring
3 boring
4 boring
24 boooring
354 booooooooooooooring
3432 booooooooooooooooooring
34253 borinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng
23432432 boringnnnggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
32432148203480293480923840923894234823423 boriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnngggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
30924809340923490234890234809234092349023890423 booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooringgggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg

Boredom comes when you least suspect it, or when life throws you a curveball and you gots a little itty bitty popsicle stick with which to combat it.

Can you dig the boredom?

Dig boredom.
Bordeom dig.

Feel my boredom

Feel it so good.

Bored.

Bored.

Aburrido.

Aaaaaabbburrrridddooo.

Boredom.

boredom..


boredome


bordoeme


boredomee
bordoem

boredoem

boredeom

bordome

bordome

bordom

bordom

boordom

bored.

so, bored.

Brought to you by bored barret beaters of bored blumingdale new brunswick.

At 3 I have an interview
Waiting for naught have I.
He will ask me what I knew
Naught I learned with this eye.
Take a seat, shake my hand
This will run by so quickly.
Take me please, I'll stand
Pick me Pick me Pick me.

My first paycheck...

Workin' it at Panera.

Love is cold, Cho. You don't need.