About an hour and a half into our trip to Reno (aka in the car with *this guy*), Bert said (something to the effect of): "Remember how we all used to bug Justin to get a cell phone? Well perhaps we were wrong in encouraging that." PS I'm like a 13-year-old girl when it comes to text messaging. It is just so fun. PPS My new ringtone is >>>>>>>> than yours.

Which train-themed lyrics do you like better:
We're off the rails
We are trains ourselves
-Notwist

What’s the question you asked me
What's the answer I gave
That made me feel like I was on a train
-Pavement

Do you ever think about reflecting more than you actually reflect?

Allison and Jenn both contacted me last week, saying "Did [I] know that sabotager is not a word?" Folks, I know what I'm doing. Even when it seems like I don’t. So there.

Does any form of sexual intercourse wherein the two participants are facing each other constitute the missionary position? I mean, does it count as missionary if you have her legs up over her head and stuff like that? If that doesn’t count as missionary, at what point of tilt does it no longer count (as missionary)?

If you listen to music to go to sleep, and you have to turn the music down more than once, then that means that you aren’t really ready to go to sleep yet.

Last week I saw an SUV with a bumper sticker that said: "I Get My Electricity From The Sun." That is such bullshit (on so many levels). First, fuck electricity. Do you get your 12 MPG of gas for your SUV from the sun? Does that mean that if I followed you to your house it would be covered in those shiny solar panel thingies? Otherwise, could you imagine how long of an extension cord you would need to get your electricity from the sun?

The other bumper sticker that always makes me wanna follow fools home is the "Kill Your Television" bumper sticker. Obviously these fools have never seen The OC. I feel like I should be able to follow them home and see that they don’t have a TV at all in their house. And if they do have a TV I think that I should have the choice of either A) taking their TV or B) bombing "hypocrite" all over their house.

Salty balls=when the bathroom light switch is all hidden and shit and you can't find it (when you are visiting a new or unfamiliar bathroom). Do you know what I mean? I hate that. Honorable salty balls mention to when the bathroom light switch is located outside of the bathroom itself. Argh.

*pirate*

During our dude night, we drank a shiteload of cantaloupe-infused vodka tonics and then went bowling. Wasted, this was a voice memo that I left myself: "Do you ever find yourself bowling and you wish you were metaphorically bowling but you're really just bowling?"

Merits mentioning that this dude night out went more smoothly than the last one. The last time, we got kinda wasted and in the end it was Mike, Mikey, and me at my house, trying to play Texas Hold 'Em without gambling or gambling chips. We actually sat down and dealt the cards and played halfway through the first hand before realizing that without betting and bluffing, Texas Hold 'Em ain't much of a card game. We're fucking geniuses, I know...

I heart metaphors.

I saw Chris' armpit hairs last night and they were all blond and shit and I was all, nice blond armpits. He said, "The curtains match the carpet." Sweeeeeeeeeeet.

On a different night out, I was drinking with Chris, Rafi, and Sabrina, and Rafi said something funny and I gave him a dogpound for it and he said, "You know, I got into trouble once for fisting a student." Um, dude, that's not cool. Plus, overshare. Bigtime.

What is the worst music you ever were forced to do it to? For me, the answer is easy. Once, this girl put on the Pulp Fiction soundtrack. Now the Pulp Fiction soundtrack, in and of itself, whilst not my favorite, is totally fine. But there are all these parts in-between songs where there are long bits of dialog from the movie and stuff. And doing it to Pulp Fiction dialog=weaksauce. All-the-way.

It really irks the shit out of me that in-between/in between is not inbetween.

If you ask me the right question, I can give you a lovely answer.

I had a dream the other night that I could rock the shit out of this special one-hand short-hand typing machine. All I could think (in the dream) was about how I should get a second one so that I could type 2 things at once.

Aliyya said: "Just because it's sexy doesn’t mean that it makes me wanna have sex." To which I said, "There you have the difference between men and women."

The plastic things on the end of shoelaces are called aglets. I hate it when those things go man down. The pits. Although I must say that the replacement/aftermarket shoelace market has improved by leaps and bounds when contrasted to said market during my childhood.

Have you ever met someone who you had to convince that Phantom of the Opera ain't an opera? Folks, I know that it says opera in the title, but come on now, please. Don’t be so white trash.

Is there anybody on earth that thinks that Sammy Hagar>Diamond Dave?

Do you know how crazy girls are? Not only do they have nonoperational pockets on their pants, but they also purposefully ignore the belt loops when wearing belts. And they say men's problems are in their pants...shiiiiit.

I went to this karaoke bar (awful, btw), and whilst there I saw 3 guys go up on stage and do what seemed to be a pretty well-rehearsed B-52s song. The thought that struck me as funny was that when they were practicing for the song, they totally must've assigned one of the guys to be the girlie voice. Haha.

When I was a kid I loved the parentheses so much (I am still a huge fan, but they used to be my absolute favorite). However, I had this awful fear that other kid readers thought that they could just skip the reading of the text in the parentheses (because parentheses are supposed to connote something that can be removed from a sentence and still leave the sentence grammatically intact, but is still of relevance).

Did that make any sense at all?

The glam rock music scene may have been a rough and embarrassing time for music in general, but I will give it full-on credit for one of the greatest masteries of all-time: the power ballad.

I've been thinking, when I have kids--if one is a boy--it would be really cool if I named him Justin Two (pronounced Justin Two, not the second). Oh wait, the whole number two thing. I got it, I got it. How about The Second Justin?

There are quite a few restaurants out there that are "Donuts and Burgers" establishments. Whenever I see one of them I am always hella tempted to go in one and ask them if they can make a burger for me on a donut. That might be a bit too gnar gnar, but it sure does sound seductive (and it would give me bragging rights; it's the type of thing I could tell The Second Justin about when he would be old enough to appreciate it). The big dilemma would be: do you put cheese on a donut burger?

By: Justin