Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.

I really need to start carrying a little notebook around and taking down thoughts. I sit on the 22 and 21 and I swear to the heavens chocolate-fried-gold comes to me in idea forms. But then my iPod changes songs and I just go, "ooh, I forgot I put this on the on-the-go!"

So I have zero ideas to post on. Well, except for a question that my English teacher posed.

When politicians tell you that "God is on our side" you probably don’t believe them, but if they started saying "Satan is on our side," would that make them any more credible?

Oh, new Michael Ian Black.

Public art makes the world a very whimsical place.

Today was a good day. My artwork was, for once, actually complimented by my design teacher, who then sped through critique so we could leave class to walk around the quad. Today was the setup of an Art in Public Places class' show, which consists of colorful displays of public art scattered across the quadrangle. There is something about a life size milk carton smoking a cigarette and flipping a coin that just brings a smile to my face. U of I students, if you haven't taken a look at the works, go do. It's on the way to almost every class, and they're really freaking cool. Optimus Prime!

Also, if you are interested in starting an Abomonist movement or group here at U of I, please get in touch, I'd like to help. Unless you are a square. Then don't bother, square.

Cough-cough-cough-cough-cough-cough-wheez-kaff-choke-cough-cough!

Ouch.

My First Celebrity (Very Famous) Encounter

Yesterday my friends and I had the good fortune to attend a talk by a certain celebrity (very famous) named Michael Ian Black. You may have heard about this very famous (but not very wealthy) young man through the State, McSweeney's, Stella, Wet Hot American Summer, or, if you are a completely uncultured punkass, VH1's "I Love the..." Series (Really, if you refer to Mr. Black as "That guy from VH1", you can die in a care fire). Mr. Black gave a wonderful speech, his topics ranging from how crappy high school is to his compulsive masturbation to how U of I is a bunch of losers (this one almost got him shot). He showed a Stella short, said his thank you's, and left. We being the crafty young students we are, took Mr. Black's own advice, and decided to seek an autograph. I came prepared with a book and pen, no need to use "nature's ink," and we took our places waiting outside the stage door for Mr. Black. The book I had for him to sign was Created in Darkness by Troubled Americans, a collection of McSweeney's best work from their website. Mr. Black's "Some People Do Not Like Celebrities" is printed within its pages. Soon after I arrived at the door, Mr. Black emerged and began his meet and greet. After taking a photo with a couple and signing something for someone who wasn't me, I handed him the book, open to his article and asked him to sign it. He looked at it with a confused expression.
"Oh, it's my... wait, what the hell book is this?" Mr. Black asked as he looked at the spine.
"I dunno, it's... uh... McSweeney's..." I sure am quick in the presence of a celebrity (very famous).
"Oh, right. Wait, I never got told about being published in this. I didn't know they could do that."
"Um, I don't think they can. You should sue their asses."
"Yeah. I can't, you know who runs that... uh..."
"Eggers."
"Right, Dave Eggers. He's the god of literature, I can't sue him."
"No, you should. Sue. Usurp his throne Mr. Black," ah, there's the wit.
Mr. Black then ignored my sharp comment and began signing my book. With the pen I found on the ground he scribbled, "They stole this: Michael Ian Black." After he was done he took another look at the article.
"This isn't even the good one. I mean... it's good, but I like the other one..."
"I like the baby eating one."
"Yeah, the baby eating one... or the... Plus, you heard me do this on stage."
It's true. He used some of his old material onstage. It's okay, it's still funny. I'll give it to him.
"Yeah, and I'm sad you didn't use the asterisk one."
"That's hard to say. 'asterisk, asterisk, aster... see?"
"I understand."
"But at least you were the only one who knew about this."
"Actually, I did too," Kevin put in.
"Oh, great." He handed the book back to me. "Thanks for coming."
"Thanks for having me."
"Thanks for ruining my fucking day," and with that, he turned to the next fan waiting for him and I walked away.

And so concludes my first encounter with a celebrity (very famous).

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