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You are a green dragon! You are small and fast,
the sprinter. You are smart, and you know how
to get what you want. You rise to mate more
often than the larger queens, but you do not
lay eggs. You tend to speak your mind and
express your emotions freely. You work
extremely well when paired with a female human
partner. You are the most common color of
dragon, sometimes making up as much as a full
half of a clutch of eggs.


What color of Pernese dragon are you?
brought to you by Quizilla


I always suspected that I was a green Pernese dragon, but now it's official!

A new, long-overdue installment in The Paul Rust Annotated Script Archive.

And if that's not enough arrogant self-examination, here's...

A list of every "album" I've ever "recorded"...

1. Paul Rust - "Bored" (1996)

At age 15, newly-christened singer/songwriter Paul Rust ruminates on loneliness, ex-8th grade girlfriend Bobbie Jo Langel, and yes, boredom... in this extraordinary 7-song cassette-only EP. Musical instruments include a bass guitar and one singular voice. But wait, Paul? Didn't you just pick up the bass 5 months ago? And didn't your voice deepen within the last year? Yes! Why should this stop me?!

Influences: Nirvana (followed closely by Nirvana and... Nirvana)
Song Highlights: "Because No One Likes a Bragger," "Insisted Sleep," "Sending Out the Troops"
Choice Lyrics: "You wanna' guy who has big muscles/You wanna' guy who's so damn hot/You wanna' guy who has three brain cells/You wanna' guy who will treat you like shit!"


2. Wuss - "Operation Wuss" (1997)

Gehlen Catholic freshmen Jake Livermore and Paul Rust beat "Indie Rock: Circa 2002" to the punch with their own two-person rock outfit "Wuss." Although most songs utilize familiar pop structures and 4/4 timings, drummer Livermore and bassist/vocalist Rust widen the musical landscape (and consequently grace the hem of prog-rock) with... xylophones and audio samples from "2001: A Space Odyssey!" As expected, it blows everyone's minds. In terms of lyrical content, the songs follow the same path as Rust's earlier work "Bored," in that... it's about having an ugly face that no girls like!

Influences: Nirvana, Pixies, Weezer
Song Highlights: "My Commie Girlfriend,"Narcoleptic Insomniac," "Weezer"
Choice Lyrics: "I see you, then you see me/and I fall to pieces at the comparison"


3. Suzanne - "Lovesick" (1998)

After a year of heavy rehearsals and sporadic gigs at school functions, community centers, and RAGBRAI events, LeMars' second-favorite band Suzanne (named after the beloved Weezer b-side) finally get their act together and release this groundbreaking 14-song concept album. Adding to the previous "Wuss" line-up, bassist/vocalist Paul Rust and drummer Jake Livermore join guitarists Ben Kurth and John Henry Muller for this rousing mix of infectious pop-rock. Lyricist Rust challenges himself and makes sure that every song is simultaneously about both love and sickness (hence, the title) and references to mutilation abound. The main concept? That two people with self-diagnosed psychological problems are meant to be together. Whether this unhealthy world-view was influenced by Rust's then-current relationship with his high school girlfriend or not... has never been argued (it was already painfully obvious to everyone involved).

Influences: Weezer, Foo Fighters, Nirvana
Song highlights: "Crush Me with Your Crush," "Beauty Pageant," "Catholic School"
Choice Lyrics: "When we're older, there's no curfews/And our "I love you's" won't have to be hushed/And we'll be glad we kept our morals/When good-night kisses won't be rushed"


4. Next Wednesday - "Born to Disappoint" (1999)

After the tumultuous breakup of Suzanne, members Rust and Muller took solace in their new project, Next Wednesday (named after director John Landis' frequent use of the phrase "See you next Wednesday" throughout his films). Recorded with a 4-track recorder and a newly-purchased stereo, guitarist Muller and vocalist/bassist/keyboardist Rust tested the limits of pop music by freely experimenting with drum loops, feedback, and audio samples. Songs centered on the boredom of small-town life, the perils of lost innocence, and the agony of Catholic guilt.

Influences: Velvet Underground, Eels, Sonic Youth, Pixies
Song Highlights: "Absolute Solution," "Vacant Parking Lots," "Nine Secrets" (a 17-minute feedback-drenced, "Sister Ray"-inspired scorcher, which dares to list every small-town secret Muller and Rust ever knew)
Choice Lyrics: "Behind the picket fences of people's closet doors/lie Lynch-ian insects and hidden skeletons/with secrets said in whispers, rumors in hushed tones/of things no one knew and wished they always had"


5. Paul Rust - "Promises, Regrets..." (2000)

After a 4-year hiatus from his solo career, Rust treats his long-waiting fans to another album of sad-sack bedroom classics. Recorded in the basement of his father's store basement, Rust flexes his instrument muscles by not only taking on bass and vocal duties, but also, keyboard and guitar duties as well. Drummer DJ Ruden rounds out the outfit. After repeated listenings, the careful listener discovers that the track-listing was intentionally sequenced to follow the arc of conventional post-breakup behavior (from the initial feelings of abandonment to... the final feelings of abandonment).

Influences: Jonathan Richman, Sebadoh, Weezer
Song highlights: "Earnest as Ever," "My Broken Halo," "I Should Have Listened to My Heart"
Choice Lyrics: "And you may say I'm being melodramatic/but someday you will crave what you call melodramatic"


6. The Subordinates - "The Subordinates" (2001)

Not a band to rest on their laurels, The Subordinates write and record this entire album even before their first (of 5) live shows ever occurs. Rust drops his instruments and concentrates solely on lead vocals as he hooks up with fellow University of Iowa freshmen (and near strangers) Justin Putney (guitar), Peter VanRybrock (bass), and Louie Doerge (drums) on this 10-song album. Old-school, back-to-basics rock-n-roll set the stage for songs primarily focusing on Rust's childhood experiences (i.e. his fear that he would be sucked down the bathtub drain, his secret desire to be kidnapped), which rest uneasily next to more adult-themed suject matter (i.e. Rust claiming that he "don't like blowjobs and big world wars").

Influences: The Clash, Pixies
Song highlights: "Brood for Love," "1983," "Older Sisters"
Choice Lyrics: "Well, I could just be an asshole/for you to love me true/but I think I love you too much/to do that shit to you"


7. My Business Failed in Three Weeks - "My Business in Three Weeks" (2001)

Citing dissatisfaction with the dull and complacent Iowa City music scene, Rust (bass, vocals) reunites with past collaborators DJ Ruden (guitar) and Jake Livermore (drums) on this epic concept album. Its stark, minimalist album cover (designed by John Henry Muller) is matched only by the stark, minimalist production of Al "Scoop" Shrank, an old friend of DJ Ruden's father. The majority (if not all) of the lyrics are what would be commonly considered within the music community as "goofy" and/or "retarded." It is believed this change in Rust's lyrical content was the result of his realizing that the overly-emotional and confessional lyrics of his past 5 albums were becoming embarrassing and would eventually grow to haunt him.

Influences: Japanese pop, Michael Jackson
Song highlights: "Oh, How Those Days Draaaag," "Hugh Downsizing," "I Don't Want a Boss"
Choice Lyrics: "Did you see Kramer fall last night?/Ha ha ha ha ha ha/I hope Ross and Rachel get together/Oo la la la la la"


Crap. I used to be on a roll. Since 1996, I'd have one "album" out every year. Now, three years have passed and... nothing. I promise you though. "Chinese Democracy" will be released.

For an internship application, I have to write a 5-page scene from a current television show.

This is difficult.

The only current show I watch is "The Simpsons" and "Curb Your Enthusiasm." But I'm 500 miles away from the caliber of those shows.

So I don't know. Maybe I'll write a scene for "According to Jim."

Belushi would approve!

I'm remembering an interview I read with award-winning "Master and Commander: Far Side of the World Part 2" director Peter Weir. He was discussing his film "Mosquito Coast" (which I've never seen) and he talked about the difference between protaganists in American films versus European films.

He mentioned how in American films, the protaganist is someone who starts off lowly, but has qualities that eventually make him a hero. However, in European films, the protaganist starts off as a hero, but his heroic qualities are eventually what unravel him into a failure.

You can guess which one I find more interesting. I think everything I've written follows the latter's path.

The only danger about this is... your characters become victims of their own virtues. And they end up looking like martyrs. And no one likes that, right?

Right?

My votes for "American Idol?"

It's a tie between Suzy and Jasmine!

Two things I've never written a No Shame piece about:

1. Catholicism
2. How I've never drank or drugged

To be sure, I've mentioned once (maybe twice) before in a No Shame piece that I don't drink or do drugs. And certainly, the overwhelming guilt, anxiety, and repression of Catholicism has fueled every single piece I've ever written at No Shame Theatre, but I've never explicity addressed either subject in a No Shame piece.

Which is odd...

Because... you know, these subjects take up a major part of my life. My choice to not drink or do drugs has had a pretty big effect on my social/personal life and although I'm not a very "religious" or even say "spiritual" person, I know that 13 years of Catholic education and weekly mass-attendance must have made some impact on me.

So why don't I write about it? Not just at No Shame, but at all? Like in this weblog, for instance.

It's definitely not because they don't interest me. There's some fairly-interesting stuff going on w/ my refusal to partake in alcohol or drugs. What scares me about it? What drives me to do it? And why do I refuse the label "straight edge?" Oh, wait. I know. Because it's lame-ass.

And clearly... Catholicism is, by far, the coolest religion on the block. Show me another religion that's so rich in pain and pathos. Or try this: imagine a Martin Scorsese movie as if he wasn't raised Catholic. Actually, don't. I'll tell you. It's called "One Night at McCool's." And it sucks. Hard.

I guess I probably don't write about these things because... they're so much around me that I don't even find it necesarry to talk about it. Like I've never written about being an RA. Because... well, that's your job. And what can you say about your job that you can't say to your co-workers?

I say this, but I guarantee you that this week's No Shame piece will be entitled "I'm an RA Who Knows the Stations of the Cross, but Has Never Drank a Schlitz."

Just you watch.

ROCK-N-ROLL BENEFIT SHOW
(w/ free ice cream)
Wednesday, March 3rd
8PM-11PM
Currier MPR

featuring the rock-n-roll talents of:
My Business Failed in Three Weeks
Coach Mahler and The Athletes
King Toad

(free admission w/ 1 can of food, linen, toothbrush, toothpaste, or anything new for the Shelter House)

This show should be fun. King Toad and Coach Mahler are two terriffic acts.

And I'm playing a couple Yakamishiis songs with Jamal during his "King Toad" set. And My Business Failed in Three Weeks will be playing TWO BRAND NEW SONGS entitled "Three Wolves" and "Let's Make This the Best Century Ever." One song's about wolves, the other's about hope and optimism.

This is an ideal show for anyone who likes us, but doesn't like the smoke-and-piss-smell of a bar (or are too young to get in). Plus, you're helping the "less-fortunateys."

Hope to see you there.

Tonight, I went to a mentalist at the IMU Wheelroom. Mentalists are called mentalists because they can read minds and bend spoons.

Fortunately for me, I got to be a volunteer onstage. The mentalist asked me to hold a glass Coke bottle between my thumb and index finger. Underneath it, there was a trash-can. The mentalist got down on one knee and using his mind, he blew out the bottom of the Coke bottle. It was very cool.

I got to keep the Coke bottle as a souvenir.

The weird part was... although this man had the brain power to guess every digit in some stranger's phone number or turn on a lightbulb just by imagining it, he kept having weird memory lapses. Like he'd forget where people were sitting in the audience or he'd repeat the same full paragraph of lines twice.

A mentalist losing his mental capacities.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

SIDENOTE: A few minutes after writing this blog, I reached into my coat pocket to get something and I sliced my finger on the Coke bottle. I'm bleeding right now. iiiiii Those i's were from me wiping the blood off my "i" key.

This morning, the first episode of "Saved by the Bell" was on TBS. The station didn't announce that it was the first episode (obviously), but you could tell because everybody was acting like they had just met each other. Zack says, "Well, if it isn't Mr. Belding, my high school principal!" And Mr. Belding says, "Staying out of trouble, Morris?" You get the idea. Plus, Slater was introduced as the "new kid." You can't get any more "first episode" than that, people!

Regardless of these obvious clues, its "first episode" status was painfully clear from the very first shot. It opens with the school hallway and... wouldn't you know? It's completely filled with students. All these kids are running around and teachers are in the background talking and all this craziness. There's so much effin' activity! And it was so, so, so obvious that the producers were trying very hard to make this seem like "a California high school." For Peter Engel's sakes, a kid went by on a skateboard. A skateboard!

Anyway, as any "Saved by the Bell" fan knows, this trend died out quickly. By the fourth season, the only people in the hallway were the principal characters. If that. Sometimes it was just Zack and a card-board cut-out of Screech holding a hoagie.

And seeing this first episode was all very sad, of course, because it reminded me of...

First-year teachers. And how initially, they're so excited to be "great educators" who "shape young minds" and "change the world" that they assign challenging work using alternative methods they just learned in college. And how they're devoted to their profession. And their eyes fill up with enthusiasm and promise when they HAND OUT THEIR SYLLABUS to a group of fourth graders.

But...

By the end of the year, they're exhausted and beaten and just give out busy work they don't ever intend to grade.

Before, their heart was a corridor filled with skateboarding students, but now... it is but an empty tunnel holding a cardboard Screech in its center.

Depressing.

Do you what's not depressing though? I'm going to Panama City, Florida for Spring Break! White sand beaches and electric-blue waters for me! I am a college student going to Florida for Spring Break. This is amazing.

Finally...

My vote for tonight's "American Idol?"

LaToya!

When she sang the end of "All By Myself?" Damn right, my eyes glazed over with tears of joy.

I watched "The Apartment" again tonight. Lovely, lovely, lovely. (This is similar to my "gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous" assesment of "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?")

While I was watching the movie, I realized how much I appreciate films where "high-concept scenarios" grow out of everyday human behavior and in effect, generate honest insight into people. For instance, if you described "The Apartment" and said "it's about a guy who lends out his apartment to his bosses for them to have affairs in," that'd sound pretty high-concepty. To me anyway. Maybe not "Die-Hard-on-a-spaceship" high concept-like, but still.

But when you discover that the whole scenario simply comes from a guy's desire to "move up in the ranks and be respected," then it makes a little more sense. And when it leads to the final conclusion that a guy learns to have integrity and girl allows herself to be treated better... then the high-concept becomes a regular, perfect, everyday occurence. And that's great.

Same with "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?" It's a bizarre scenario - a dance marathon where people dance to exhaustion for 5 weeks - but it comes out of people wanting to have purpose and be famous and... get fed and not be hungry anymore. And by the end, this scenario that sounded so ludicrous beforehand suddenly seems downright ordinary.

My favorite part in movies (which rarely happens) is when you realize that somebody is doing something completely out-of-the-ordinary, but it makes perfect sense when you see how it got there by playing by its own rules and logic. It simply went where it was supposed to go.

But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe all movies do this. After all, dreck like "The Wedding Planner" takes a high-concept and makes it human, right? I don't know.

As for my own movie, I completed shooting "Wet Cotton" this morning after a continuous 14-hour shooting session. It was rough, but I was able to stay energized the whole way through. Cuz making movies is fun.

Because of shooting on Friday, I had to miss No Shame.

A moment ago, I woke up from an extended, horrible dream where I alternately:

a. Was late for No Shame
b. Came without a written script
c. Came with only a copy for myself and not my actors
d. Bombed horribly

This is the No Shame dream equivalent of coming to school naked or missing a final exam.

As you can probably guess - with your pop-psych grasp on human behavior, No Shame means a lot to me. This is the first No Shame I've missed all year (and the first No Shame I've missed where I've been in Iowa City at the same time a No Shame is going on - since I began it four years ago) and it's thrown me for a loop. I don't write about it very much in my blog (mainly because I figure the people who read it are No Shame-related folks and I don't want to talk about aspects they already know about me), but regardless, No Shame is a major part of my life.

Of course, I'm a little scared about what's gonna' happen when I have to leave it in May. I know I'll miss it. And I'll have to adjust.

And yeah... you'd be right to say that this has something to do with me losing attention. It's true. I like attention and No Shame gives me it. But it's a lot, lot, lot more than that. Corny or not, I believe in No Shame as an institution. I think it's the best forum in Iowa City for young writers and performers. The artists it's helped to guide and improve and eventually churn out into the world is staggering. Furthermore, it's a forum for people to communicate and exchange ideas... for audiences to witness new and exciting art (in a world that is increasingly losing it). So it's this - above all other reasons of histrionics - why I like No Shame.

Obviously, I'm sure there's some writers and performers at No Shame who see it merely as a "stepping stone" and as an opportunity for 100 strangers to adore you. And while that's all well and good (and I certainly wouldn't be self-righteous enough to come down on those people), I regard No Shame as something... er... really beautiful. Important. Vital. Life-changing.

I like No Shame. I believe in No Shame.

And I'm going to miss it when I go.

I just hope that my next six months after I graduate aren't littered with No Shame nightmares like last night's.

Third day of shooting for Honors Thesis video "Wet Cotton" is complete.

Fourth day starts in a few minutes.

All in all, it's been a pretty smooth schedule. Sure, the hours are tough (last night, for example, we shot until 4:30am), but we've been moving ahead steadily.

Most of this is the result of two magnificent work-horses: Dave Fishel and Mike Cassady.

Can Dave Fishel work under hot lights and tote heavy equipment while obeying the ever-changing whims and constant perfectionism of Paul "Let's spend a half hour trying to remove a lense flare" Rust? Yes. Dave Fishel can.

Can Mike Cassady show up for shooting after massive days of 10-hour rehearsals (for his upcoming one-man show "Catalpa") and still be completely energized and focused for his scenes? Yes. Mike Cassady can. Oh... and did I mention that he's in every frame of the entire movie? Work-horse!

Me? I just sit off to the side and gaze at a monitor, scratching my ass through the hole in my jeans.

Tonight, in addition to brief transitory shots, we got two complicated scenes to shoot:

1) A scene with Mike and a child. Children are fun to work with, but as can be expected, they are difficult to keep consistent in their performance. To complicate things, the scene will be shot in one long, extended take. Cry about it, Shirley Temple.

2) A long, uninterrupted take with multiple dolley moves, makeup effects, and "highly emotive" performances.

But we can do it. This will be my "Pure Luck."

All my recent projects are one big sausage party!

Take a look at the evidence:

1. My recent ten-minute play "Yellow Marrow" featured two troubled, adolescent males. Goth eye make-up and comic books were the milieu. Words like "shitters" abounded.

2. My current Honors Thesis project takes place in a men's bathroom - with a cast of 12 males of varying ages. No ladies present in this motion picture!

3. And finally, my recent play "Bubblegum Brigade" literally took place in a boy's club.

Needless to say, this year's projects have been very boy-centric. Others have taken notice. I recently received an email from someone who said that I "really get at the heart of what it is to be a disillusioned man in our time." That's a nice thing to say. Having your work taken seriously is fun!

Perhaps this is the pendulum swinging back. After all, this summer, I shot a movie where it was just me and a bunch of women. But even that was heavily focused on what's expected (un-necessarily, perhaps) of young men.

However, I think that ol' pendulum will be swinging back towards Lady Country soon enough. I really want to write something for two women. Right now, I got a play in mind about two sisters.

Cuz you know... sisters are cool. I got two of them myself. And the "sister dynamic" is one of the most interesting in family structures if you ask me.

Did you ask me?

Maybe you did. Maybe you diiiiiid.

I got out of my 2-and-a-half-hour class two hours early today.

Plus, the sun is shining and I can breathe air like it's Spring.

Best of all... I start shooting my Honors Thesis video tonite.

I want to do my laundry and cut my hair short.

Fresh beginnings and all that.

My vote for tonight's "American Idol?"

Camille, of course!

She's the hottest and has the most distinctive voice. These are the qualities of your American Idol.

Yesterday, I bought some paper towels. They feature everyone's favorite Hallmark spokes-granny... Maxine! You know her. She's that old lady who spouts cranky quips. Such quips as:

1. "Thought about cleaning the house. But then I thought, what's the house done for me lately?"

2. "Life is like the lottery. Both are games of chance and both involve a lot of scratching."

3. "A woman's home is her hassle."

4. "A good mom lets you lick the beaters. A great mom turns the mixer off."

5. "If I had all the money I've spent on the lottery, it would be like winning the lottery."

Maxine's a compulsive gambler! Yaaaay!

I want their to be a live-action movie based on Maxine. Who would portray her? My pick would be...

Miss Halle Berry!

Last night, I watched "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?" on DVD. Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.

The producers of "They Shoots Horses..." are asking me if they can print my blurb "Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous" for their film's ad in USA Weekend. My response?

Of course, kind sirs!

Earlier this evening, I had bad stomach cramps. Gas, probably. I likes my hamburgers, but sometimes they can do bad things to a man (that man being me).

So I was in That's Rentertainment. And my guts were churning and twisting and kicking. I go up to Ellen in the foreign film section and much to everyone's misfortune, the pains escape from my stomach and out of my butt (a'la a fart) and I warn her to steer clear. She does.

Fortunately, with this, the pain goes away.

It was at this point that I realized the best feeling in the world is the moment after an intense pain leaves. You can be doubled over in a fetal position on the floor, but once the hurt goes away, it's like a new lease on life. You've never felt better.

With this logic, the worse you feel pain... the better you'll feel when it's gone.

So...

I'm gonna' get an illness. A horrible, painful illness. So in those rare moments when it recides, I'll feel more magnificient than ever before.

Or I could just learn to appreciate good things when I have them. And not just when they go away.

That's always an option.


ON A SIDENOTE: Where have all the promising female No Shame writers of last semester gone? It's been three weeks this semester and there's been no sign of Anne, Candie, Sadie, or Erin. I'm selfish and I want to see their good work. What gives?

What's that? More egg on my face?

Damn, sir, you bet.

Every Spring since college began, I have to go to a mall (I forget the name - it's deserted and weird and has all wooden interior inside) for reasons I won't go into.

For two years in a row, each trip has brought on a MAJOR INSIGHT:

Trip #1: Marveling at the grotesqueness of others' have-and-have-nots is just as - if not more - grotesque. And it cannot be disguised in "compassion" or "empathy."

Trip #2: The beauty of spontaneity cannot be forced or manipulated. If it is, it becomes cheap and ugly.

This afternoon, I went to the mall and nothing happened. No new insights.

Some new perspectives on my future, but nothing earth-shattering.

I don't know. Maybe it'll occur to me later.

I got a play in the 10-Minute Play Festival.

UNIVERSITY OF IOWA 10-MINUTE PLAY FESTIVAL
Thursday, February 12th - Saturday, February 14th - 8pm
Sunday, February 15th - 3pm
Theatre B
$4

It's a short play called "Yellow Marrow." It stars Lucas Salazar and Jaret Morlan as two outcast teens (one's a nerd-burger, the other's a Goth-y, non-respectively). It's directed by Spencer Griffin.

I like it. Maybe you'll like it, too?

Who gets my vote for tonight's "American Idol?"

Fantasia, of course!

She'll be in the top 5. I've already predicted it. Top 5.

You watch.

Top 5.

One half-hour to kill before having to reserve equipment for "Wet Cotton" (new title!)... what will I do with myself? I know! I'll take a survey I stole from Sadie's web-blog.

A is for - Age: 22 (goin' on 66, y'all!)

B is for - Boyfriend/Girlfriend: No girlfriends for me. But a girlfriend for you? Surely!

C is for - Career in future: Makin' a series of karate/snuff films

D is for - Dad's name: Bob (see also: Robert/see also: "Rusty")

E is for - Essential item to bring to a party: I don't know what to bring, but I know what not to bring... your inhibitions! Check 'em at the door, pal!

F is for - Favorite song at the moment: "The Concept" by Teenage Fanclub. According to this song, a girl wears denim wherever she goes. And she's gonna' get some records by the status quo. The solo's so great, it makes you hate Teenage Fanclub!

G is for - Guys/Girls you've kissed: Geeze, survey! You sure are nosey! I mean, that's okay if that's who you are. I respect that. But I'm not really comfortable sharing such infor--- I've kissed 11 girls within the last 5 years!

H is for - Hometown: LeMars, Iowa! Ice Cream Yummy of the Tummy!

I is for - Instruments you play: Bass. The "vox." Some guitar. A little keys. And a whole lotta' love.

J is for - Job title: Resident Advisorrrrrr (writer's note: putting extra r's constitutes as a joke)

K is for - Kids: Are nicer/meaner than you.

L is for - Living arrangement: Alone. And in charge!

M is for - Mom's name: Jeanne (see also: Robert/see also: Rusty)

N is for - Number of people you've slept with: How many people are in Menudo?

O is for - Overnight hospital stays: NUN! (fingers crossed, knock on wood, bludgeon a mermaid)

P is for - Phobia[s]: Fear of failure (a.k.a. YOU-a-phobia)

Q is for - Quote you like: "The unexamined life is not worth living." EAT IT!

R is for - Relationship that lasted the longest: 2 years! But my relationship with McDonald's apple pies has been a long-standing love affair!

S is for - Sexual position: I like that this survey doesn't necessarily ask for your favorite or preferred sexual position. It just says "sexual position." Maybe it just wants me to ruminate on them in general. (pause) Who's skirting the issue? ME!

T is for - Time you wake up: Before you even think about it! (this is a quote from Steve Heuertz - maybe this should be my "quote you like")

U is for - Unique trait(s): Not throwing up since Spring of 1998. Johnny Muller stood beside me at the race-track.

V is for - Vegetable you love: SO MANY CHOICES!!!! Peas. Corn. Steamed carrots. They taste good and they make you poop like a machine.

W is for - Worst habit: Falling in love with you! But you know what? It's a habit I'd never want to break. Seriously.

X is for - X-rays you've had: It's July 3rd, 1989. Paul just broke his collarbone. Can't swim for the rest of the summer. Fortunately, "Batman" and "Ghost Busters 2" eases the pain.

Y is for - Yummy food you make: A plot of nay-chos

Z is for - Zuchinni for breakfast?: Shut up.

That was fun. Now it's off to the races! I put 75 dollars on White Oleander!

Sidenote: My friend Rick has been accepted into Stanford Law. Congratulations, Ricky!

My one class on Monday was cancelled, so I used the day to my advantage (i.e. "relaxin' all cool!"). I set my alarm for 11:30am, so I could wake up and experience the pleasure of watching "Saved by the Bell" in bed. It's like having a tray of bacon, eggs, and orange juice brought to you when you awaken! Excpet in this case, Zack and Screech are bringing it to you. And they wear tiny aprons and over-sized over mitts.

Today's episode was the one where oil-drilling on the Bayside campus results in environmental mayhem (Becky the duck is killed!). It's a good episode (from my favorite epoch of the series), but I was tired and I drifted back to sleep.

I decided to not re-set my alarm. I was exhausted and I would get up on my own as I damn well pleased. Uh-huh.

Eventually, I woke back up at 12:30pm and... you know what? I was completely refreshed! And it wasn't just because I got that extra hour of sleep. I seriously think it was because I decided when I'd get up, not some alarm clock out of my control. Basically... if I feel like it's my decision, I feel good. If I feel like I'm being bossed around, I feel bad.

This is basically the equivalent of... you know... everything in life.

And with that, it now seems approriate to present to you:

My Top 10 Power-Pop Songs of All-Time:
1. "September Gurls" by Big Star
2. "I Saw Her Standing There" by The Beatles
3. "The Concept" by Teenage Fanclub
4. "Why Bother" by Weezer
5. "Surrender" by Cheap Trick
6. "NA Kicker" by Superdrag
7. "Sink to the Bottom" by Fountains of Wayne
8. "My Sharona" by The Knack
9. "Birthday Girl" by Imperial Teen
10. "Do It Again" by Matthew Sweet

If you download these songs and listen to them, don't do it in this order. This is an order of preference, not a mix-tape order. The mix-tape order would be:

1. "I Saw Her Standing There" by The Beatles
2. "Sink to the Bottom" by Fountains of Wayne
3. "Birthday Girl" by Imperial Teen
4. "Why Bother" by Weezer
5. "September Gurls" by Big Star
6. "NA Kicker" by Superdrag
7. "Surrender" by Cheap Trick
8. "The Concept" by Teenage Fanclub
9. "Do It Again" by Matthew Sweet
10. "My Sharona" by The Knack

You must end mix-tapes with firecrackers. Not sleep-overs.

This afternoon, I go to Wendy's with DJ and Jake, right? And there's a woman working behind the counter. And she's detached and rude and all that. Like she asks me if I want to "Biggie Size" my meal, but she says it really slurry and doesn't look at me. She obviously doesn't care about my patronage. Same thing happens when she asks me if I want cheese on my burger. So I look to Jake like, "Get a load of this lady. How rude is this, huh?"

Eventually though, I get over it. I think about how I'd probably be rude and mean, too, if I had to work at Wendy's and serve people who just come in and need and want and need, need, need. The world of labor sucks and she's feeling the brunt end of it. So yeah. Be rude, lady. More power to you.

But still, show some politeness for gosh sakes.

Cut to five hours later...

I'm standing at the register at Wal-Mart, buying a UV light and an extension cord for "Wet Cotton Penny" (what an awful title) and this lady who is working starts freaking me out... because whenever she asks me a question, she makes complete eye contact with me. And she asks them really earnestly.

"Did you find everything alright?" the lady asks - her eyes burning with unchecked intensity.

"Yeah."

"Do you have any questions?" (her eyes NEVER LEAVING my own)

"Nope."

And when she hands me my change, she just keeps staring at me while making more and more insanely genuine comments. And I'm thinking, "Jesus, lady. Calm down. This is exchanging money at Wal-Mart, not... you know, donating bone marrow at the Mayo clinic."

So...

Moral of the story: If you serve me, show me some compassion.

OR:

Moral of the story: If you serve me, show me no compassion.

These are my rules!

I just printed off copies of my Honors Thesis script - now tentatively titled "Wet Cotton Penny."

Do you like that title? Does it suck?

I just realized a moment ago that it sounds like "Wet Cotton Panties."

That isn't the type of movie I want to make.

I have a read-through with all the actors today at 5.

Then rehearsals. Then shooting.

I'm excited.

Some girl beside me at the ITC just shot me a dirty look. Was I breathing hard? Whatever, lady. Whatever.

Over Christmas break, I got a decal from a sticker machine in the foyer of Pamida. Right now, it's duct-taped to the bulletin board in my dorm room.

So, do me a favor: Think of your favorite decal ever.

Yeah. It sucks. Hard. It sucks hard.

At least, it sucks hard compared to this decal.

This decal is colorful. And shiney. And over-sized.

And oh... did I mention this decal is made to resemble a California driver's license?

But this ain't your regular California driver's license, mom and dad! It's got an illustration of a beach and rollerbladers and palm trees and a sun. And like all driver's licenses, it also features a picture of its owner. Apparently, her name is Kailey Jones. She's got blue eyes, blonde hair, and skin like Ivory soap. These are her stats (according to the decal/driver's license):

KAILEY JONES
208 SEADRIFT COURT
VENICE BEACH, CA 97808

SEX: F
HAIR: Blonde
EYES: Blue
(there's no mention of her skin being like Ivory soap)
HT: 5'5''
WT: 125
BORN: GUESS

That's right! Guess! Guess when she was born, you sonuvabitch!

Why is this decal duct-taped to my bulletin board? Because I don't have the guts to tear off the back and stick it somewhere. I'm too worried I'll put it on something and change my mind. You only get decals like this once in your life.

And yes, I tried to stick it into the "driver's license section" of my wallet, but it didn't fit. It was just too big. That's how grand it is.

But this is a promise: I will get it officially recognized as my driver's license when I move to California this August.

That you can count on!

Love,
Kailey Jones

Have you heard about the upcoming "Lion King 1-and-a-Half?" It takes the events of the original "Lion King," but re-runs them through the characters of Timon and Pumba. So, essentially, this movie focuses on what was going in the background of the original, but you never saw. Therefore, in this "1-and-a-half," the original movie's events are now put "in the background." You get it?

I can't tell you how unbelievably intriguing this is to me.

Since I began watching movies as a fetus, I've always been fascinated by "background action" and the possibility that a story exists underneath the surface of what you're watching. The ghost in "Three Men and a Baby?" I'm talking to you!

The only other movie I know to scratch this surface was "Back to the Future Part 2" in the 1955 sequence - and I still don't think it gets credit for breaking this barrier.

Has any other movie done this? If you know, inform me in my guestbook. I'd be much obliged.

Granted, this new "Lion King" movie probably won't explore all the possibilities, but I hope another movie/sequel comes along and does so. I'd be the first to watch it when it was aired on the "NBC Sunday Night Movie." I'd talk about it the next day with all my friends on the playground.

It's my top 18 favorite movies. Why did I do this now? I don't know. Felt like it. Some major changes (i.e. a new "#1 movie" for the first time in over a decade!).

1. ET - The Extra Terrestrial
2. Magnolia
3. Waiting for Guffman
4. Edward Scissorhands
5. Sleepaway Camp
6. Election
7. It's a Wonderful Life
8. Pee-Wee's Big Adventure
9. Blow Out
10. The Ice Storm
11. Who Framed Roger Rabbit
12. The King of Comedy
13. Fargo
14. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington
15. The Apartment
16. Shampoo
17. American Movie
18. Splatter Farm

It's 3:30 am and I'm supposed to be reading a play. I tried to convince myself that reading it would be enjoyable. The line of thinking went like this:

"Hey, reading a play is sort of like going to a play!"
to...
"Hey, going to a play is sort of like going to a movie!"
to...
"Hey, reading this play will be like going to the movies!"
to...
"Hey, I'm going to the movies!"

I don't know why I have to convince myself. I usually enjoy reading. I'm just not motivated, I suppose. I want to hang out with friends and watch TV.

The play's over. I enjoyed working on it a lot. Now I feel post-mortem depression.

But the cycle starts all over again. This week, Spencer Griffin and I will begin rehearsing "Yellow Marrow" (with Lucas Salazar and Jarret Morland), a play in the University's 10-Minute Play Festival.

Also, this week, I will begin casting (and creating the shooting schedule) for my Honors Thesis video tentatively titled "Carl." Mike Cassady - who will be in town during the shoot - is the lead. I also got a cinematographer (Dave Fishel) and a set designer (Meredith Thomas) helping me out. A location is almost secured. Rehearsals, storyboards, and another draft of the script are in the works. Shooting begins on February 18th.

"Pre-production time" is running out.

Then...

Once "Yellow Marrow" goes on and "Carl" is all shot, I will have the opportunity to get back to "David Mows Yards." I've got about 25% left to edit. I need to get this done before I graduate.

On a sidenote: After I left the "Bubblegum Brigade" cast party, I watched "Superman" with Jake and Adam. I hadn't seen the movie since I was 6, but there were so many images and sounds that were iconic to me (the clicking of Ned Beaty's heels on a subway train track being the most notable).

One very notable scene (and its adjoining memory) was when Eve Teschmacher kisses Superman in Lex Luther's private pool. That's my earliest memory of... you know... being... aroused. I watched the scene again - 16 years later - and expected fireworks. But it was under-whelming. The kiss was really short and un-passionate.

I've grown jaded in my old age.

This semester, I'm in a Jogging class.

Every Tuesday and Thursday morning, for 30 minutes, I run around a track in the Fieldhouse. The track's pretty short, so I end up going around 30 times or so.

As for my fellow classmates, the class is mostly filled with girls, but there's 3 other guys with me. This male/female disproportion usually seems to be the case in the other Phys. Ed. courses I've taken at the University of I-o-waaah - those being "Fitness Walking" and "Rhythm Ballroom Dancing" (a.k.a. "The Worst Class In the History of the Universe's Galaxy")

Strange thing happened in class this morning. Everybody's running around the track, right? And I feel myself noting how the other males are doing. And I realize I'm running much faster than them. And how I don't stop to walk like they do. I was, in essence, "beating" them.

So I start running harder. And faster. And I start lapping them. In fact, I got so zealous about it that when one guy started to catch up with me... I ran harder, so he wouldn't pass me.

Sure, this sounds like your basic run-of-the-mill competition. And I'm sure that was at play, but I think it could be more aptly described as a "nerd revenge fantasy." All these guys were bulky and muscular and I'm sure I took some pride in showing them up - like I was proving I could be the more athletic male.

But what the hell, Paul? This was a class. And people were running for health/recreation. It wasn't the 100 Meter Dash at the Hershey Track Meet. Why was I getting so much satisfaction from such an unimportant event? I doubt those other guys even noted the situation.

I don't know. Maybe it's my pathetic way of making up for the previous class...

On Tuesday, in Jogging, we had a fitness exam. Overall, I did well. But then came the "strength test." We had to squeeze this grip-thing with our hand and a dial measured how strong we were. My results? My score was smack-dab in "poor." In fact, I compared it with the girls' chart and my score was just 1 above what's considered "poor" for girls.

Yeah, I gots no strength. But I can run around a track 30 times - without anyone giving a damn.

I wrote a play! Do you want to see it?

BUBBLEGUM BRIGADE
FRIDAY, JANUARY 30TH - SATURDAY, JANUARY 31ST
8PM
THEATRE B, UNIVERSITY THEATRE BUILDING
$1

Written by Paul Rust
Directed by Spencer Griffin
Starring: Lucas Salazar, Chris Witaske, Alex Elliott-Funk, Danielle Santangelo

Three twelve year-olds live in a treehouse. An unexpected guest enters. A bird talks and delivers mail.

So, Adam and I had some fun on the IMDB web-board after we acquired our user-name.

And we made a bunch of posts and replies.

Here they are.

You have to CLICK ON THE NAME "BIGKEVINSMITHFAN" to see a list of all our posts. GO FROM BOTTOM TO TOP. That's how we wrote them and they make more sense that way.

I could just link you to the list, but on my computer, the URL also shows our secret profile information and I don't want folks to be privy to that.

It's pretty amazing how many people actually buy into these obvious jokes though.

This town needs an enima.

Last night, Adam and I devised a scheme. We went to Danielle Fishel's (Topanga from "Boy Meets World" fame) page on imdb.com and left a post on the message board. In it, we said that we had her personal email address. We then shared it with the world.

But... shhhh. We used an email we created on hotmail - specifically for Topanga. With luck, we'll get numerous, desperate emails from rabid Topanga fans. If we do, I'll post their emails on my weblog for you to enjoy.

To post on the imdb message board, however, Adam and I needed a username. We chose "bigkevinsmithfan."

Kevin Smith is so funny!

He doesn't care about offending anybody. That's what makes Kevin so great.

Whew. Look at me. I blog endlessly during Christmas break, then I get back to school, and... poof. I stop. But not for long, duuuude!

Today, I had to interview potential RA's. There were supposed to be six interviewees. However... there were three "no-shows," so that gave me a lot of free-time.

To nap.

I laid down on the floor of Rienow Lounge (floor 11) and slept for two hours straight. When I woke up, my hair was all bed-headed. And I had a big, red mark on my forehead. And the darkest circles under my eyes that I've had in years.

Did I look like shit? Or was I adorable?

You decide!

Cuz I was thinking about it... there's some people who are at their most attractive right after they wake up. Glam eye- bags. Gorgeous tired-eyes. They wear their sleep deprivation well.

Like insomniac movie-stars! My, oh, my! That Farrah Fawcett-Majors needs to stay up watching "Full House" more often!

But there's some people who do not wear it well at all. My sister Amy being one of them. When she wakes up, she looks like an abused wife. Like that movie "The Burning Bed"... starring Farrah Fawcett-Majors! It all comes together, folks. Whether it's lack of sleep or spousal abuse, you'll always be Queen Pretty-Bird in my book, Farrah!

Similarly... lack-of-sleep-creating-beauty is akin to crying-creating-beauty. Some people are stunning when they cry. Others look like they are constipated.

Which one are you? Personally, I think you are pretty when you cry!

I just put up a bulletin board for my floor.

The title was:

"TIPS FOR A GREAT SECOND SEMESTER"
(Note: I found these in an old, dusty RA storage box marked "January 1953")

- Do not waste your time dreaming the impossible: that man will someday walk on the moon
- Relax by watching a new movie - "Abbott and Costello Meet the Wolfman"
- When playing football, wear one of those leather helmets with straps and no face-mask
- Take comfort in the knowledge that America will never fight a war in Vietnam
- Imagine the day when we no longer have to live in black-and-white
- Eagerly anticipate the birth of future RA Paul Rust: April 12, 1981


Some rejected tips were:
- Impress friends with new expressions like: "That shirt is cooking with gas!" or "Cool."
- Keep your eyes open for communist sympathizers and report them immediately to the US Army
- Buy fashionable clothes for that special lady: a poodle skirt, corset, and Hypercolor t-shirt

Long time, no rock.

That changes with MY BUSINESS FAILED IN THREE WEEKS (the band I'm in) playing on...

TUESDAY, JANUARY 20TH
THE MILL
8PM doors/9PM (we take the stage)
w/ Coach Mahler and The Athletes

THURSDAY, JANUARY 22ND
GABE'S OASIS
9PM doors/$6 admission
w/ Appleseed Cast, Genital Hercules, The Reacharounds

This week, the Iowa City rock drought ends. Quench your thirst.

A couple days ago, I had RA ("Resident Assistant!") training. I was at one workshop seminar known as "Rockstar RA's" where RA's have the opportuinity to speak with noteworthy RA's within a panel discussion. Before the beginning of the workshop, another RA (from a different dorm) sat down beside me. I had spoken with her last semester, so I struck up another conversation to kill time before the workshop began.

Sometime during the short chat, she mentioned that she was interested in poetry and that's why she was going to school. Then the workshop began. What sucked was... so whenever I'm bored (i.e. in class, on plane trips, at RA workshop seminars), I pull out a piece of paper and draft lyrics for My Business Failed in Three Weeks. It makes time by go fast and that way, I have new lyrics for the next time we get together and rehearse.

But I couldn't do that because she just told me that she was interested in poetry. And if she looked over and saw me writing poetry, I'd seem like the most transparent individual on the face of the earth. It'd be like:

HER: Oh... what are you doing?
ME: ("non-chalantly") What? Oh, nothing. Just... you know, writing my words.
HER: You like poetry, too?
ME: Like it? I love it. It's my life-blood. Isn't that amazing how much in common we have?

I didn't want this to happen.

So, instead, I began writing my No Shame piece for January 30th. Cuz that's the other thing I do when I'm bored and I find a pen and paper in my hand.

Doodling's for squares!

As a kid, I had a hard time separating between television and real-life. And I don't mean in some dorky "All our lives are a narrative!" business. I'm saying the wall separating TV and reality was broken down.

For instance, I thought "The Facts of Life" girls lived in an apartment a few blocks from my house. I'd drive by it with my mom and each time I'd see it, I'd imagine the girls inside - not doing anything particularly sitcom-y, but just... you know, hanging out. Maybe eating. Maybe talking.

I'd like to think I grew out of this, but...

A few hours ago, I was talking to a couple of friends about "Full House" and I was sharing how sometimes I imagine myself as a cast member on the show and I think about how I'd deliver certain lines and give a certain performance.

Granted, it's not the same as thinking that a television character lives next-door to you, but it's not too far from it either.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to pretend this bag of sugar is my baby. It's a zany scheme devised by my intruding neighbor. Later, I will give birth to it in a stuck elevator.

Back in Iowa City.

Re-shooting scenes for the movie.

"Bubblegum Brigade" rehearsal begins today.

Last night, I nearly won a gorilla (wearing boxing gloves and heart-designed boxer shorts) from a Super Wal-Mart claw machine.

Nearly.

Afterwards, I watched the newly released "Freddy Vs. Jason" DVD.

If you want Freddy to win, cheer real loud. If you want Jason to win, cheer real loud.

A new installment in the Paul Rust Annotated Script Archive.

I just found out that my friends in LA are going to a taping of "America's Funniest Home Videos."

I'm not just envious.

My envy turned into hatred...

And then into...

PURE JOY!

Have fun, fellas!

Over break, I saw a lot of movies in the theatre. Here they are in the order I saw them:

1. Stuck on You
2. Paycheck
3. In America
4. Faces of Death 4
5. 21 Grams
6. Big Fish
7. The Station Agent

Yesterday was a double-bill of "Big Fish" and "The Station Agent."

For the fourth time in a row, Tim Burton has disappointed me with one of his most recent movies. It's sort of bummer considering that he was my favorite director as a young lad (age 9-15). To its credit, "Big Fish" had about two or three really great sequences, but all in all, I had to sit through a lot of trite, mismatched junk to get to it. Ah, well. Another childhood hero gone to waste. Tim Burton, meet your new friends: Ryne Sandberg and Senator Paul Tsongas.

Then I went to "The Station Agent," which was excellent. So excellent, in fact, that it's currently fighting for the #1 position on my Top Movies of 2003 list. Once this list is finalized, it will be printed in my nationally-syndicated column "Nuts for Bolts: The Whimsical World of Paul Rust."

Why was "The Station Agent" so great? Well, lots of reasons, but mainly... it was simple (i.e. not GODDAMN OVERWROUGHT). Seriously. I am so tired of "BIG MESSAGES" and "GRAND EMOTIONS" and "STUPID SHIT" in so-called "important" movies. "Big Fish," "In America" and "21 Grams" all fell apart underneath their own self-imposed dramatic weight. I don't need magic or mysticism or a "clever" narrative structure to get me to like your movie. I just need an idea and a little insight. Strip away the bells and whistles of "21 Grams" and all you got is a 2nd-rate soap opera melodrama.

"The Station Agent," on the other hand, observed 5 characters - in small strokes and quiet moments. And I left the movie with a greater understanding of human behavior than all your grams combined.

Shut up, loud movies.

A few friends and I went back to my high school today. Our goal was to eat an authentic Gehlen Catholic lunch. Did we achieve this goal?

YES!

It was "breakfast for lunch" - french toast, sausage links, peaches, and milk. Blast from the past. Tasty, too.

After lunch/breakfast for lunch, my old teacher Mr. Seivert invited us to his classroom. He introduced my friends and I to his students who were having class. One student named Josh was particularly wily and in front of the class, asked me a question. The following exchange occured.

Josh: Hey, Paul.
Paul: Hey.
Josh: Do you remember when I was in 8th grade and you were a senior? You pulled me into the bathroom and said, "Look, Josh... Bernardo's baking brownies."
Paul: What? (laughs) I didn't say that.
Josh: Yeah, you did. You said, "Bernardo's baking brownies."
Paul: ... I don't even know what that means.

I honestly don't recall ever doing this. This means there are three possibilites:
1) Josh was making this up
2) Josh truly believed I did this (even when I didn't) - perhaps because it seemed like "something Paul would do."
3) I did indeed do this and I've forgotten about it

But how is that possible? I got a good memory, right? I mean, who is this Bernardo? I don't even remember a Bernardo. I'm assuming a foreign exchange student, yes?

And "baking brownies?" What's that mean? Pooping? Does it mean "pooping?" I've never used this expression in my life.

However...

Pulling someone into a bathroom and saying, "Hey, Josh... Bernardo's baking brownies" is pretty funny. I hope I did do this after all.

Wax in my ears!

This is nothing new.

The Male Rust Dynasty has been cursed with excessive ear wax since the beginning of Tide. Why? Is it in our genes? A natural adaptation to ensure our safety? Were our caveman ancestors constantly besieged with baby pterodactyls infesting our ears?

The answer is "YES!"

(I have extensive records and solid documentation to prove this. If you care to read it, go to: http://www.imdb.com)

Cursed by evolution, I have to deal with this ear-wax problem every few months. It collects and builds and plugs up my ears. As a result, I get instense pain in my ear canal. Sometimes, a chunk will drop off and land on my ear-drum. Then I can't hear anything! I can't even hear shit!

And no, I don't have ear-wax problems because I am "dirty." I do not sit on the "filthy snowhill in the grocery store parking lot." I don't "wear Orlando Magic team jackets long after they've ceased being popular." I practice good hygience. I clean my ears regularly. I'm just a victim of my own genes.

So, on Tuesday morning, I went to the doctor's office because I had a pain in my left ear I could no longer ignore. The doctor surmised that it was indeed due to "excessive ear-wax build-up" (or "EEB" in the medical world). To fix it, the doctor informed me I would have to get it washed out.

When the doctor left, I started to kick my feet against the examination table in absolute glee. This was gonna' be great! I've gotten my ears washed out before and it is one of the most pleasurable feelings in the world. Honestly.

So, a few minutes later, the nurse came in, turned on this water-pick, and put it in my ear. And what it does is... it shoots high-pressure, hot water straight into your ear canal. And like a jackhammer, it drills that ear-wax clean out. It feels sooooo good. Seriously. I mean, it sort of hurts, but... like a good hurt?

You know what I'm talking about...

Masochism. Through and through.

Therefore, I have come to believe that there's a direct biological connection between the ear canal and the crotch. One giant vein from lobe to junk. Check imdb for more details.

Unfortunately, right when it was feeling the best, the nurse turned off the water-pick. Grrrrr. Seriously, this nurse had no sense of pleasure-giving whatsoever. So selfish.

Whatever. It was all made up for when afterwards, I looked into the tiny container that I held underneath my ear during the procedure and I got to see all the prizes that fell out of my head. Inside, there were little splecks of gold and... two nickel-sized gobs of black wax! Yay!

Here are some follow-up questions for my readers:

Have you ever gone to the doctor? Were you scared? What are some other words for "doctor?"

On Monday, January 5th, 2004, the following happened...

1. I was in a McDonald's where a female employee asked her three fellow female employees, "Do you know what I did today?" They said nothing. Taking this as a firm "YES," the employee began to share the events of her day. Somewhere between "after I got home from school today..." and "... I didn't take a nap," her co-workers started to disperse and talk amongst themselves, totally ignoring her. I mean, they flat-out quit listening to her. Despite this, she kept talking and talking... but eventually, around the 2nd-minute mark, she realized their negligence and quit sharing the day's events. I watched it all. It made me uncomfortable.

2. In a movie theatre with my dad, it occured to me that I will be the first male Rust to ever graduate from college. Cuz neither my dad, nor my uncles, nor my older male cousins, ever did. I'm breaking Rust Family ground... with my mortar board and fist!

3. This morning, I was shaving my face in the bathroom. Naked. My sister Amy (outside of the bathroom) told me I need to hurry up. I said, "Okay." A moment passed. And then I farted. Because I was naked, the fart was able to make a more audible sound. The interesting thing is... the fart matched the same tone, pitch, and timbre of my sister's voice, so I thought she said something else to me. Even though I clearly felt the fart come out of my butt, I thought it was my sister talking instead. Then I paused. And I let my senses come back to me. And then I realized... Paul, it was a fart, not a sister.

One more time:

It was a fart, not a sister.

Another installment in French-Kissing a Picture of Myself: The Paul Rust Annotated Script Archive.

Last night, I went to a midnight movie! Yay! Midnight movies are fun! I'm trying to remember all the ones I've been to (and I'm talking revival movies, not any of those early premieres like "The Phantom Menace," "Matrix Reloaded," or "IQ"). In memory, they are:

1. Reservoir Dogs (April 1995 with big sis Amy in Chicago - black man in audience makes audible grunt when one reservoir dog drops the "n word")
2. Waiting for Guffman (in summer 2002 with Johnny-n-Denise Muller in Omaha - one particular audience member attempts to say lines with characters onscreen, but is always three seconds off, leading another audience member to yell, "Shut up!")
3. Fight Club (December 2002 with Johnny Muller in Omaha - majority of audience laughs at jokes I never liked and consequently makes me not only question the cult value of this film, but also my own relation to it)

Is that it? It feels like I've been to more midnight movies in my life. Remind me in my guestbook (to the right) if I have.

So... what was the midnight movie I went to last night/earlier today? Hold onto your Samuel L. Jacksons...

"FACES OF DEATH 4!!!"

It was awesome. I saw AUTHENTIC footage of REAL DEATHS! Like a mutant leech eating a woman's arm and horses tearing a Russian man apart. NONE OF THIS WAS FAKED! ALL TRUE! I also saw devil worshippers, dog-eating Asians, and dolphin bones! Terryifying!

Afterwards, I received a certificate that proved I made it through watching "Faces of Death 4." Guess who it was signed by? That's right! The Angel of Death himself! Weeeee!

Later, I sunk 5 dollars into a claw machine at Perkin's. I didn't win anything, but things could be worse. I could be Russian and torn apart by horses.

Or have to see dolphin bones in real life!

Yiiiiiikes!

Introducing...

French-Kissing a Picture of Myself: The Paul Rust Annotated Script Archive!

Read it and roll your eyes!

I spent New Year's Eve/Day in Harlan, Iowa - with some pals. It was a good time. By the end, 2003 was crying that he had to go. We eventually got rid of him by throwing some popcorn onto the front yard and when he ran out to get it, we slammed the door behind him and locked it tight. It was a little sad - seeing him bang on the door, begging for us to "let him in - at least for some more popcorn," but after an hour-and-a-half, he gave up and stepped into a nearby forest - never to be seen again.

Granted, we saw him the next morning at Perkin's, but we avoided him by looking the other way. Funny. I think he looked away, too.

One hightlight? There's this video place in Harlan called... yes, "Video Place." It's the greatest video place (and "Video Place") in the whole wide world. You know how most video stores throw out (or sell) their videos after they become less popular? Well, not only does this video store not do that, but they get videos no other place would get in the first place. For instance, we rented an early 80's sci-fi sex comedy "Spaced Out" (featuring a computer that's programmed to talk dirty!), children's classic "Return to Oz" (the disturbing sequel to "Wizard of Oz" that you only remember when forced to), mid-80's meta-sex comedy "Hardbodies 2" (featuring an endless barrage of tan-linned titties) and the first two episodes of "Fraggle Rock" (featuring an endless barrage of fully-tanned titties).

My sister Amy and I helped my 8 year-old niece Alexis take the much-beloved personality color quiz. Here our her results:

you are lavender #E6E6FA

Your dominant hue is blue, making you a good friend who people love and trust. You're good in social situations and want to fit in. Just be careful not to compromise who you are to make them happy. Your saturation level is very low - you have better things to do than jump headfirst into every little project. You make sure your actions are going to really accomplish something before you start because you hate wasting energy making everyone else think you're working. Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

With the word "inventive," Alexis turned to Amy and I and informed us that she is indeed inventive. She told us, "I'm that. I came up with a new kind of leash." Then there was pause. And then she added, "... For cats."

God love Professor Alexis.

Oh, yeah... check out my new links. (to the right)

These are the results of a GENUINE, AUTHENTIC, INTERNATIONALLY-ACCEPTED personality disorder text. After all, personality disorder tests should only rely on the subject him/herself to provide the answers (without any outside insight whatsoever). Indeed, these tests could not possibly be swayed by how somebody would want to be perceived (both negatively and positively) by others in a public sphere (especially on the internet). And, of course, all professional personality tests conclude with an offer to save 92% on magazine subscriptions and misspell "describe," right? I thought so.

Keeping this in mind, here are my results:

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	Low
Schizoid:	Low
Schizotypal:	Moderate
Antisocial:	Low
Borderline:	Low
Histrionic:	Very High
Narcissistic:	Moderate
Avoidant:	Low
Dependent:	High
Obsessive-Compulsive:	Moderate
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --

Histrionic
People with histrionic personality disorder are constant attention seekers. They need to be the center of attention all the time, often interrupting others in order to dominate the conversation. They use grandiose language to discribe everyday events and seek constant praise. They may dress provacatively or exaggerate illnesses in order to gain attention. They also tend to exaggerate friendships and relationships, believing that everyone loves them. They are often manipulative.


I like the fact that I tear something down and then gleefully partake in it - for all to see.

How histrionic of me.

I don't have to visit relatives today. I thought I was going to have to, but my ma said I didn't, so instead... me, Jake, and DJ are recording songs for a new "My Business Failed in Three Weeks" album.

We're recording them in DJ's basement. His poppa bought a whole bunch of new recording equipment within the past few months. We'll be putting it to proper use.

First order of... business (ha ha)? Re-recording our original rock opera. We were never really satisfied with the original recordings (despite the fact that we sold many copies to people over the past couple years). The mix wasn't very dynamic or interesting (i.e. it was boring as hell). Plus, there was just some really shitty songs on there as well. So... we're cutting out the fat and boosting the juices. If you're interested... here's the songs we're going to re-record (this will also be the sequencing of the album)...

1. Oh, How Those Days Draaag!
2. Office Chair
3. Love is a Flame (Where's the Fire Extinguisher?) [Somebody Help Love]
4. Tonight There's a Hurricane
5. Johnny Infomercial
6. Givin' 110%
7. (I Am A) Candy Store
8. My Business Failed in Three Weeks

Now, I know what you're thinking. An 8-track album? Talk about rip-off! Well, it is in my mind that we may record some more songs and release everything together as a sort of split-album. What new songs would I like to record? They are (in no particular order):

1. Welcome to the Show
2. Rock-and-Roll
3. Bachelor Pad
4. Drugs (Are Bad for You)
5. It's the Wednesday/Thursday Song!
6. Bubblegum Brigade
7. Why Do You Cry All The Time?
8. I Live in That Haunted House

Speaking of albums, I've been listening to Belle and Sebastian's most recent record lately. I like it. "If You Find Yourself Caught in Love" is my new "listen-to-this-song-repeatedly/once-it's-over-start-it-up-all-over-again" song.

Merry Christmas.

you are darkviolet #9400D3

Your dominant hues are blue and magenta. You're the one who goes to all the parties but doesn't quite fit in at every one... you know what you want, but are afraid of what the world might think of it. You're a little different and that's okay with them, and if you're smart it's okay with you too. Your saturation level is very high - you are all about getting things done. The world may think you work too hard but you have a lot to show for it, and it keeps you going. You shouldn't be afraid to lead people, because if you're doing it, it'll be done right. Your outlook on life is brighter than most people's. You like the idea of influencing things for the better and find hope in situations where others might give up. You're not exactly a bouncy sunshine but things in your world generally look up.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

My first inclination was to be: "Yes! That is spot-on! I am dark violet!" But then I remembered that old study with horoscopes. You know... how people would get the exact opposite of their actual horoscope and they would find a way to apply it to their lives? Well, maybe I am dark violet. It seems true.

Do you want to know something that's not true? Read this Iowa City Press Citizen article about me. The writer was a nice guy and all, but there's a lot of Miss Stakes and Miss Representations in there. They are as follows:

1) I am 22. Not 21.
2) My upcoming movie (which was discussed repeatedly during the interview) is entitled "David Mows Yards," not "Don Mows Yards." In fact, "Don Mows Yards" already exists. It featured Meg Tilly and Dennis Quad as African explorers.
3) "Paul's Imagination File" was a project that lasted for only one year when I was 9 years old. I have not kept it up into my current age. The article makes me sound like a re-tard who still draws logos for movies. I mean, honestly... I only do that now when I'm bored in class. Sheesh.
4) In terms of the "one percent" mentioned throughout the article... it was brought up in this fashion...
INTERVIEWER: So what's it like to be famous in Iowa City?
ME: Well... I'm not... really... famous. There's maybe, like, 1% of the entire student population that happen to know me. But there's 99% of people who have no idea who I am.
Unfortunately, the original intent of that statement did not make the article. Instead, its exact opposite did. Now I sound like an arrogant ass. Which maybe true, but I didn't mean it to.

Eh, maybe I shouldn't be bitching. The writer was a good guy and like it or not, being in the newspaper still excites me - no matter what the case.

Yesterday wasn't as long as I had anticipated. I took a brief nap on the way to Sioux City. In my mind, I was like, "Paul, this is a bad idea. This napping will only tease you and you'll be cranky." On the contrary! It gave me power! I was up and running for the rest of the afternoon.

After shopping... my ma, sistahs, Scott, niecey Alex-o, and me went to space opera "Stuck on You." It sucked! Bad! Whew!

The worst part? It felt like it had to "explain" for its existence. It tried to place the conjoined brothers in a realistic world and provide detailed reasons for how this has happened. What's the fun in that? Why couldn't they just exist in their own world with their own rules? This happened throughout the entire film. Seriously. Watch it. Every joke is met with an attempt at verisimilitude. Blargh.

Before the movie, I was urinating in the multiplex's bathroom. A father and his son walked in. The dad was a big, gruff guy with one of those faux-Southern accents that men like him often co-opt because they think its in their nature - although it was not in their nurture. The son was a small, 8 year-old-ish boy with a teeny-girl voice. They both went to the urinals and the son saw those one of those framed ads hanging on the wall above the urinal. The following exchange occured:

SON: Why are there posters on the wall?
DAD: So you can read 'em while you're pissin'.
(PAUSE)
SON: Did you like the movie?
DAD: It was alright.
SON: "The Haunted Mansion?"
DAD: Yeah. Was Funny.
(PAUSE)
SON: I liked the lady in the ball.
DAD: ... Huh.
SON: That was cool.

Then the door opened and a lady-voice asked for Eric. No one responded. I wanted to see what person had asked for Eric, so I quickly washed my hands and exited the bathroom. The only person I saw? A chubby, little boy with a Miami Dolphins team jacket. It was then that I suspected the "lady-voice" was just a "prepubescent-boy-voice."

But why didn't he come into the bathroom to look for Eric? Miami Dolphin Chubbs is a boy. He's allowed. Then I thought.... maybe Eric is a strict friend. Maybe Eric said, "Don't you ever come into bathroom looking for me."

If so, where was Eric then? Maybe Eric ditched Miami Chubbs. Maybe Eric had been followed into a bathroom one too many times by Miami Chubbs and decided to call it quits once and for all.

I hope Eric and Miami Chubbs get back together. They're too good of friends to throw in the towel now. Especially with the holidays and all.

I'm struggling with splitting time between editing the movie and spending time with friends/family. The thing is... I really enjoy editing, but I also really enjoy hanging out with friends/family. For instance, my friend Matt was visiting town (and leaving tomorrow) and I rarely get to see him, so I hung out with him last night. Likewise, I love chillin' with my sister Amy and her boyfriend Scott. But they'll be outta' here within a week, so I want to be with them as much as possible.

However, I desperately need to get this movie done. I'm a little over halfway right now, but I need to focus on that alone. I've set a personal deadline. The pressure's on. So is the heat.

So, basically... my problem is... whenever I'm editing, I wish I was spending time with folks. And whenever I'm spending time with folks, I wish I was editing. A pair-of-docks in the mist.

In a couple hours, my momma, my sisters, Scott, my niece Alexis, and I are heading to the Sioux(er) City mall. I still need to buy Christmas gifts.

The thing is... I haven't gone to sleep yet. And busy, busy malls on small, small amounts of sleep mean long, long days for Li'l Pauly.

I'm b-b-b-back in LeMars now. I rode back with my pal Ricky. His car was packed full, so I had to put all my stuff in my pal Ellen's car. And since I arrived in LeMars on Saturday night and Ellen didn't come home until Sunday afternoon, this meant that I had to...

Wear my father's underpants.

It was strange. Once I put them on, I had the uncontrollable urge to clean out the garage. And turn the TV on really loud. And fall asleep on the basement couch before my son's friends come over.

I just completed the fourth (and hopefully, final) draft of "Bubblegum Brigade." I thought the third draft was going to be the last, but then... I saw problems that needed to be addressed and addressed they were.

It's a difficult thing, this ol' "Bubblegum Brigade" play. The last couple scenes is when stuff sort of "goes off-the-rails." I mean, it's purposely supposed to. But you don't want the writing to "go off-the-rails" either. So it's a complicated balance between writing-and-tone and execution-and-themes. Does that make sense? I don't know. I'm tired.

In the end, I may not have achieved that balance. But I've tried my hardest and now it's up to the cast and director to make sense of it all. Is that irresponsible of me as a writer? I don't know. I'm tired.

Later today, I'm heading to my hometown of LeMars, IA. What juicy rumors will I hear upon my return, I wonder? What well-regarded male citizen will be having a steamy love affair with his secretary's secretary? What young high school girl will be pregnant with twins? What deliquent adolescent boys will have vandalized such a thing and such a that?

All these questions will be answered before midnight tonight!

Perhaps YOU will be in one of these rumors!

Tonight, my friends and I watched "Rounders." They were going to play poker that night, so they decided to get amped up with a poker epic beforehand. I, with no knowledge of the game (and no interest in learning), opted out afterwards for more movie editing.

Anyway, while we were watching the movie, I realized something. "Rounders" star Matt Damon is a better-looking version of my friend Rick Herbst. Likewise, co-star Edward Norton is a better-looking version of me. I informed my other friends of this insight. Soon enough, we were planning on recreating "Rounders" scenes with me and Rick.

Fortunately, Rick's coming into town later today, so I will inform him of these plans and perhaps we can shoot it over Christmas break. I'm sure he'll be up for it. Rick's just that kind of spirited guy.

And if we do it, it's gonna' be great. The best part? We're going to do it completely straight-faced. None of this "wink-and-nod" bullshit. We'll be absolutely committed to making it an identical performance.

Except, you know...

Uglier and less cool.

While editing my movie, I realized that for an entire scene, my crappy camera's sound dropped out. No worries though. I'll edit it as if it had sound and then have the actress (who lives in LeMars) and me loop 'em in later. I'll be in LeMars within days, so it won't be hard to track her down. Plus, it's just a few lines.

The pressure's on for me to finish editing this movie. I'd like to have it done by January 10th, so I can show it in my hometown before I head back to school on the 12th or so. That means I have 55 minutes to completely edit within three weeks. During Thanksgiving break, I got 17 minutes edited in 3 days, so maybe it can be done. We shall see. If anything, I'll just screen a better-than-rough edit. Then I can go back and make corrections as I see fit for the Iowa City screening.

I just got back from purchasing tickets for "Return of the King" with pals Adam and Jake. The hightlight? Eating sausage bisquits from McDonald's. I love me some McDonald's breakfast.

Truth be told, I'm not really looking forward to "Return of the King." I've never really enjoyed the "Lord of the Rings" movies. In fact, this summer, when I went to "Gigli," I found myself being bored and restless - and I realized it's the same feeling I get while watching "Fellowship..." and "The Two Towers." I don't know. That sort of stuff just doesn't appeal to me. But I'm happy it makes other folks happy.

Why am I going then, you ask? Basically, I figure I should see these movies since I consider myself a "fan of the talkies" and these films are no doubt important in terms of their cultural significance and impact and whatnot. And if I am going to see them, I might as well see them at their most "culturally vibrant" (i.e. on opening day with a full house). That part excites me at least. I get the blockbuster fever.

Two other random thoughts:

1) Last night, after I completed my last bit of work for the semester, I again had one of those moments where I felt like I was wasting my youth. You know? Perhaps I've been too much of a "stuffed shirt." Perhaps I should be cutting loose and drinking and drugging and having casual sex. After all, it's only now when that sort of hedonism is socially excusable. If I did that sort of stuff around the age of 26 or whatever, then it's pretty pathetic. But right now, I'm allowed - maybe even expected. And instead, I'm concentrating on my work and acting well-and-proper and being upright. Of course, in the end, I wouldn't want it any other way. I know I'd be pretty depressed and unhappy if I did engage in drinking and drugs and casual sex, but still... there's moments where I consider other things.

And...

2) I'm disappointed when people's political "progressiveness" is born out of a feeling of hostility - as opposed to a genuine desire for change. So many times, I feel like the people who bang their heads against institutions (or more specifically, the war on Iraq or Bush) are simply doing it because they have frustration with the world or their lives in general - and "protesting" is an acceptable avenue for extinguishing their anger. Don't get me wrong. I don't like the war. I get upset by Bush's actions. I'm passionate for the world to be a better place. But when people get so ANGERED and OUTRAGED by such things, it makes me pause and wonder where that's stemming from. I don't know. Maybe it's a sense of passion I'm unfamilar with. But I've never been able to get my head around anger in general.

I've developed the bad habit of peeing in my dorm-room sink. You see, the few feet from my room to the floor's bathroom is too long of a distance for me to travel. I ain't no Magellan, people!

Plus, with the heavy amount of water I drink throughout the day, I'm constantly having to urinate. Simple science: lots of water = lots of pee. That equation was developed by one man in the mid-1950's. That man? Magellan!

When will I execute the comedy "rule of threes" and repeat "Magellan" one more time? Only time will tell, folks. Only... time... will... MAGELLAN!

Last night, I learned how to play Big Star's "Holocaust" on guitar.

You're a wasted face. You're a sad-eyed lie. You're a holocaust.

DJ Ruden has fixed my computer. It is now running right as rain.

Three cheers for the Dr.

I just got an email from my mom with a photo attachment. It was of my sister, my niece, and Santa Claus. The strange part? My niece looks so much older. It's crazy. She doesn't look like a "little girl" anymore, but a... well, not a "young woman" either. But somewhere in the middle. I'll be seeing her in a few days, so I'll see what she's like in person.

Last night, I was eating nachos at 5:30am and thinking, "Paul, you got to quit eating nachos." Every night, I eat, like, 3 plates. And when I'm done, I feel gross and fat and out-of-shape. And whether you believe it or not, I have "BODY IMAGE" issues (i.e. I don't want to be a fatty). Well, I'm sure, in that sense, everybody has "BODY IMAGE" issues, but whatever.

Anyway, I thought, "What would be a good way to get myself off these nachos?" Then I started thinking about aversions. You know... how if you have a bad experience with a certain type of food, you stay away from it forever? For example, for the longest time, I couldn't eat Doritos because this kid named Matt Oren once came out of a lake and stuck his lake-water hand in a bag of Doritos and grossed me out. Eventually, I got over it. Thank God. Doritos are delicious.

So I was like, "I'll force an aversion to nachos." While I eat them, I'll have somebody fart on my face or wipe their boogers on my arm. I don't know. Something. Anything.

Then I realized how similar this is to when you're with somebdoy (romantic or otherwise) and you realize you shouldn't be spending time with them (for whatever reason), so you think of them in certain, unfavorable terms as a way to extinguish the desire.

And then I realized how immature this was.

... I will continue to eat nachos.

Final project for Advanced Video is done. Final paper for Television Criticism is done.

One more thing left...

It's a super-easy take-home final for Television Criticism that's due on Wednesday through email. It's just three softball questions. The instructor said if we can answer questions in one paragraph, we should feel free to do so.

Also, I got the screening time for my final video project as well. It's 9:30-ish in Room 101 of Becker Communications Building. It'll be screening with my classmates' work. You should come.

Lately, I do this thing when I watch "Full House." I try to guess the conflict within the first minute of the show. Since their problems are so well-defined, you can figure out what the main conflict will be. Last night, within seconds, I knew Uncle Jessie didn't want to tell anyone that he was a high-school drop-out. I should keep records. And try to break them.

I should also find better stuff to do at 4am.

Goddamn loser.

I'm in the library right now - as I wait for my "Advanced Video" final project to export into a Quicktime format.

That final project was crazy. At the last minute (or at least, the last 31 hours), I scrapped my entire project (and the 2 hours of raw footage + many days of work) and decided to embark on something new. My challenge would be to shoot and edit an entire final project into 24 hours. Plus, the subject matter was something challenging and uncomfortable for me to confront, so it had that going for it as well.

In the end, I like it. If you're interested in seeing it, I believe it will be screening Saturday night in Becker Communications Building room 101 with some of my fellow students' projects. I think it'll be around 9pm or so. Maybe 10. If I find out for sure, I'll post it.

So, now... I have a 10-12 page paper due on Friday (tomorrow) that I have not yet started. I am, of course, writing it today/tonight. It'll be three all-nighters in a row.

But I'm actually excited about the paper. I'm thinking about going "experimental" and having fun with it (i.e. more opinionated (sp?), cracking wise, all that). This is because:

1) My instructor is a pretty open-minded and equally wise-cracking guy and will probably not hate it.
2) I'm doing alright in the course and won't suffer from a less-than-stellar grade (if that should - and probably will - occur).
3) IT'S MY LAST PAPER OF MY COLLEGE CAREER (I'm pretty sure all my classes next semester do not include a paper), and...
4) I'm sick and tired of writing papers

Reason #4 is probably most at play on this one.

It's 8:30am. I'm going to throw my project on tape and get some shut-eye.

Ciao, Francisco.

This article was written by a feller from the Writer's Workshop and sent to my town's newspaper. It's about me. Enjoy!

Early Saturday morning, my computer pooped. So now I'm using the one in the Becker computer lab. I'm editing my Advanced Video final project (the documentary "You All Have the Power to Make Change") at Becker, so I'm taking a break. And writing in my blog.

The project's due on Wednesday and I'm just capturing footage now. On Friday, I have a 10-12 page paper due for "Television Criticism." This will be my toughest week of the semester. Why am I writing in my blog then? It's probably because I want to share some...

PERSONAL NEWS!!!

Last night (December 7th), I once again had the wind taken out of my romantic sails. As I write this, there's a tiny pang in my tiny heart. Bleh. Shut up.

Without getting too far into details... I had my hopes up with a lady and these hopes were dashed.

The funny thing is... EXACTLY ONE YEAR AGO... on December 7th, 2002... I awoke with the promise of a new relationship that really excited me. A few days later (Dec. 10th), the lady said, "I don't want to hang out again." Since it was the first time in nearly two years where I felt the excitement of exchanging mutual sentiments with someone, it hurt pretty badly. Very badly, actually. Even worse, this news was broken to me at the very beginning of a 6-day span where I had 5 final projects due. I don't know how I got through it. No sleep and a lot of "Pet Sounds," I suppose. I was a wreck.

And here I am again... having to deal with personal, melancholy-heart bullshit right in the eye of a homework hurricane. A homework-icane.

Needless to say, I'm getting pretty fed up on making attempts for a dating relationship. I haven't had a girlfriend in two-and-a-half years and try as I might, things aren't getting better. Why do I keep trying? I'm sick of trying. It's a constant cycle of getting my hopes up and then getting them crushed. I'm worn out. I'm exhausted.

Ten bucks says... in one month, I'll have my hopes up again.

This entry is why Dr. Robert D. Blog invented blogs.

Yesterday, my friend Ellen emailed "Daily Iowan" columnist Drew Bixby. I found it amusing, so Ellen's letting me post it in my weblog. Enjoy:


Stop writing. I'm the 6477729 person to tell you so. Stop posing with
puppies. Put on a shirt. Shirts with a girl's initials are not as stupid as
your articles. I'm your BIGGEST critic. I love critics! They tell me what
I'm doing good and bad. You are bad. Stop doing what you do. Improve. Then
maybe write (that's me being constructive). You are inflamatory, but not in
the way you ever intend to be. You are NOT as attractive as you think.
Puppies do not make you cute either.

Improve or stop.

Stop angering masochistic people.

Merry Christmas.

A Reluctant reader,
Ellen Flaherty


The "masochistic people" line is a reference to our friend Adam - who continually reads Drew Bixby's columns, knowing full well that they will anger him greatly.

Afterwards, Ellen put the screw back in my glasses and fixed 'em good.

Friends are nice.

"Surrender" by Cheap Trick is the best rock song in the world! ***

First of all, it rocks. Like an anthem should! No one writes anthems anymore. Why is that? Because they know it would pale in comparison to "Surrender" by Cheap Trick!

Second of all, it's used in the montage of army-brat teen-sex-romp classic "Up the Academy." It was the only movie that MAD Magazine put their name on (and later took off due to its shittiness). Note: This shittiness was NOT caused by the inclusion of "Surrender" by Cheap Trick because "Surrender" by Cheap Trick rocks!

Third of all... the song's message? That your parents are going through a tough time, so try to empathize with them and don't get upset. What a great message! And that's not irony on my part either, folks. I sincerely and earnestly love this message... this message in "Surrender" by Cheap Trick, which rocks!

Fourth of all... "surrender" is the most beautiful word in the English lexicon. What song predominantly uses this word "surrender?" That would be "Surrender" by Cheap Trick!

And fifth of all.... a third-verse key change. Always a sure-fire way to rock... which "Surrender" by Cheap Trick does! Seems like "Man in the Mirror" has been cribbing Cheap Trick's tests.

Surrender to "Surrender!"

Writer's Note: This entire blog was written while listening to "Surrender" by Cheap Trick.

*** for now

With the exception of a brief one-hour nap this afternoon, I've been up for 33 hours.

This'll happen again. And again. And again.

I run my body raw and tired.

And then I bitch about it like some sort of martyr.

You do it to yourself, Paul. You do.

And maybe that's why it really hurts?

No sleep 'till Brooklyn.