Monday, June 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Well It's a Mac, So... You Know... (aka The Mac User's Handbook)
Hello friends. It has been a while since my last post on this blog but something has happened to me this past month; something that could change the world as we know it, for I, KB, have come to possess the holy scripture of the largest growing religion in the world. The writings of Steve Jobs himself. Yes, I have gazed my eyes upon the "Mac User's Handbook." Now how did I, a PC user, come upon such an object? For it is forbidden by the Apple Cult to be spoken of with an outsider. Well, my friends, the tale is one of mystery and intrigue, so sit back and I will share with you my adventures, as well as the secrets of the Mac User.
One day, as I was sitting around bullshitting in my Windows Vista that has yet to have a single error on my wonderful Sony VAIO, I realized it was time for my daily jog through the Forsaken Forest. I strapped on my running shoes, slipped into my jogging shorts, put on my sleeveless tee and headed out. About halfway through my jog I noticed my shoelace had become untied, which prompted me to stop and tie it so I would not end up tripping over the lace and injure myself. I picked out a nice stump to sit on while I laced up my footwear, and while I was sitting there I heard a squawk from above. I looked towards the sky and I was not prepared for what I saw. The creature was gigantic bird with a tail of fire. It was the mythical Phoenix! How my heart grew with admiration as I saw the majestic bird fly above me!
Now I had heard that these creatures lived within the Forsaken Forest, but I had always assumed it was pure myth. As the creature flew overhead I noticed something fall from the grips of its talons. The object plummeted from the sky and landed directly at my feet. It was a book! I bent over, dusted off the cover and read the title: "The Mac User's Handbook." Incredible! I cut my run short and headed back to my dorm to further investigate this remarkable discovery.
What I found was so disturbing that I dare not share the information with you common folk, for it would cause your eyes to burst if read, your ears to bleed if heard, my fingers to break if written, and my teeth to fall out if spoken. I however was able to ward off these effects due to the pixie dust that had been spread upon me from my encounter with the Phoenix. However, in hopes to help you all understand the world a little bit better, I will risk telling you are the 5 Sacred Codes of the Mac User.
WARNING: THIS INFORMATION MAY BE SO SHOCKING YOUR BRAIN WILL ESSPLODE
- - - - -
THE 5 SACRED CODES OF THE MAC USER
1) Upon purchase of you Mac, you must let everyone you encounter from that point on know you have a Mac.
2) If faced with a difficult tech question such as "How fast is your Mac?" or "How much RAM does your Mac have?" Simply reply with "Well, it's a Mac so... you know..."
3) If such a question as shown in #2 is followed with an request to elaborate on your response, simply say "It just works." or "Well... Macs can't get viruses!"
4) If you are involved in a discussion about PCs, immediately try to swing the conversation so it focuses on your Mac.
5) Do NOT, under any circumstance attempt to explain, through technological means, why your Mac is superior. This may result in death.
- - - - -
I am currently working on figuring out what the importance of #5 is, and will have that update to you all as soon as possible. Until then, be prepared for your encounter with a Mac User, and if possible, try using one of the tips against them. I've found it to be quite enjoyable.
-KB
One day, as I was sitting around bullshitting in my Windows Vista that has yet to have a single error on my wonderful Sony VAIO, I realized it was time for my daily jog through the Forsaken Forest. I strapped on my running shoes, slipped into my jogging shorts, put on my sleeveless tee and headed out. About halfway through my jog I noticed my shoelace had become untied, which prompted me to stop and tie it so I would not end up tripping over the lace and injure myself. I picked out a nice stump to sit on while I laced up my footwear, and while I was sitting there I heard a squawk from above. I looked towards the sky and I was not prepared for what I saw. The creature was gigantic bird with a tail of fire. It was the mythical Phoenix! How my heart grew with admiration as I saw the majestic bird fly above me!
Now I had heard that these creatures lived within the Forsaken Forest, but I had always assumed it was pure myth. As the creature flew overhead I noticed something fall from the grips of its talons. The object plummeted from the sky and landed directly at my feet. It was a book! I bent over, dusted off the cover and read the title: "The Mac User's Handbook." Incredible! I cut my run short and headed back to my dorm to further investigate this remarkable discovery.
What I found was so disturbing that I dare not share the information with you common folk, for it would cause your eyes to burst if read, your ears to bleed if heard, my fingers to break if written, and my teeth to fall out if spoken. I however was able to ward off these effects due to the pixie dust that had been spread upon me from my encounter with the Phoenix. However, in hopes to help you all understand the world a little bit better, I will risk telling you are the 5 Sacred Codes of the Mac User.
WARNING: THIS INFORMATION MAY BE SO SHOCKING YOUR BRAIN WILL ESSPLODE
- - - - -
THE 5 SACRED CODES OF THE MAC USER
1) Upon purchase of you Mac, you must let everyone you encounter from that point on know you have a Mac.
2) If faced with a difficult tech question such as "How fast is your Mac?" or "How much RAM does your Mac have?" Simply reply with "Well, it's a Mac so... you know..."
3) If such a question as shown in #2 is followed with an request to elaborate on your response, simply say "It just works." or "Well... Macs can't get viruses!"
4) If you are involved in a discussion about PCs, immediately try to swing the conversation so it focuses on your Mac.
5) Do NOT, under any circumstance attempt to explain, through technological means, why your Mac is superior. This may result in death.
- - - - -
I am currently working on figuring out what the importance of #5 is, and will have that update to you all as soon as possible. Until then, be prepared for your encounter with a Mac User, and if possible, try using one of the tips against them. I've found it to be quite enjoyable.
-KB
Friday, February 20, 2009
No Answer...
I have no answer to this. And I'm not being harsh because I realize it's possible that this kid/guy could have some hormone disorder, you know, like Andy Milonakis had. I mean he seriously looks like it. Anyway just watch...
Monday, February 2, 2009
Bruce Springsteen: Born to Limp
Just because I don't listen to Bruce Springsteen's music and think a good majority of it is crap, it doesn't mean that I don't respect the guy. He's just old as hell, and his half-time performance during Super Bowl XLIII proves that the ravages of time are in full effect on his America lovin', hot-dog eatin', New Jersey born body.
About half-way through his performance Bruce Springsteen attempts to perform his trademark knee-slide across the stage. Only he fails miserably. He limps like an 80 year-old chasing kids off of his lawn into the knee slide, and instead of gliding peacefully to a stop he slams directly into an innocent camera man and busts his knees on the end of the stage.
Now why is he limping and how is he able to get up and perform one and a half more songs? I'll tell you why: Bruce Springsteen has fake knees! And you know who else has fake knees? Old people. Now that could just be a coincidence but I on the other hand think it's a good example of why Bruce Springsteen needs to drop his guitar and go sit in a rocking chair on a front porch somewhere while yelling at teenagers for using cuss words. Face it. The glory days are over, buddy.
About half-way through his performance Bruce Springsteen attempts to perform his trademark knee-slide across the stage. Only he fails miserably. He limps like an 80 year-old chasing kids off of his lawn into the knee slide, and instead of gliding peacefully to a stop he slams directly into an innocent camera man and busts his knees on the end of the stage.
Now why is he limping and how is he able to get up and perform one and a half more songs? I'll tell you why: Bruce Springsteen has fake knees! And you know who else has fake knees? Old people. Now that could just be a coincidence but I on the other hand think it's a good example of why Bruce Springsteen needs to drop his guitar and go sit in a rocking chair on a front porch somewhere while yelling at teenagers for using cuss words. Face it. The glory days are over, buddy.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The Elevator Chronicles: My Name is Not Allison
Hello everyone. As we all know, the elevator can be an awkward place to be at times, made more so by the presence of friends, strangers, and that person you know but you don't know if they know you but maybe they do so its weird and you take out your cell phone to pretend like you're texting someone just to avoid acknowledging them. Therefor I have to decided to start a new series on It's Always Sunny in Norwood devoted purely to stories and random happenings that occur in the elevator, and not just Xavier University elevators either. The elevators may be located anywhere in the world. Everything is fair game in "The Elevator Chronicles."
- - -
Anyway it is time for me to kick of these chronicles with a little story of my own. It was around late September and it was a beatiful, sunny day out. I had just returned from the mail center with a slew of letters that had been piling up in my mailbox since my arrival at the X. I enter the first floor lobby and head to the elevators where I promplty press the "up" button so the elevator may lift me to my wonderful Kuhlman 5 West. As I waited for the elevator to arrive I decided to take a gander at one of the letters in my hand. So I open the envelope, retrieve the letter and begin reading. I become so engrossed with the letter I barely notice myself enter the elevator and press "5." The elevator begins its ascent to the fifth floor and I am still immersed in my letter.
Before I know it the doors open up and I make my way out of the elevator, passing some random gentleman who I did not recognize. Still reading my letter I open the door to the hall and make my way down to my lovely room 509. I put the letter aside, take out my key and attempt to unlock the door. I insert the key and twist but the lock does not budge! So I forcefully thrust the key in and out of the slot and wiggle the handle like an idiot. However while I'm doing this something catches my eye... it's the color green. "Since when did our nametags become green?" I thought. Then I read the nametag and it hit me: My name is not Allison and this is not my room! A female voice from behind the peephole asks, "Hello?" and all I can respond with is "Oops." I immediately make a break for the side-stairwell and disappear from Kuhlman 4 West forever. I've made sure to pay attention to what floor I'm on ever since. I can only imagine what the random gentleman I passed thought when he went up to the fifth floor for no reason.
-KB
- - -
Anyway it is time for me to kick of these chronicles with a little story of my own. It was around late September and it was a beatiful, sunny day out. I had just returned from the mail center with a slew of letters that had been piling up in my mailbox since my arrival at the X. I enter the first floor lobby and head to the elevators where I promplty press the "up" button so the elevator may lift me to my wonderful Kuhlman 5 West. As I waited for the elevator to arrive I decided to take a gander at one of the letters in my hand. So I open the envelope, retrieve the letter and begin reading. I become so engrossed with the letter I barely notice myself enter the elevator and press "5." The elevator begins its ascent to the fifth floor and I am still immersed in my letter.
Before I know it the doors open up and I make my way out of the elevator, passing some random gentleman who I did not recognize. Still reading my letter I open the door to the hall and make my way down to my lovely room 509. I put the letter aside, take out my key and attempt to unlock the door. I insert the key and twist but the lock does not budge! So I forcefully thrust the key in and out of the slot and wiggle the handle like an idiot. However while I'm doing this something catches my eye... it's the color green. "Since when did our nametags become green?" I thought. Then I read the nametag and it hit me: My name is not Allison and this is not my room! A female voice from behind the peephole asks, "Hello?" and all I can respond with is "Oops." I immediately make a break for the side-stairwell and disappear from Kuhlman 4 West forever. I've made sure to pay attention to what floor I'm on ever since. I can only imagine what the random gentleman I passed thought when he went up to the fifth floor for no reason.
-KB
Whiskey Greg
Since this is my first post, I feel it is only natural for me to give all of you a little background information about me, in the form of a story. As some of you may have already observed, I am usually a somewhat quiet, well-mannered individual that occasionally jokes around with people. However, there is an entirely different side of me that occasionally decides to come out. More often than not this other side decides to show his ugly face when the consumption of alcohol is involved. Not just any alcohol, I might add. This rarely seen, testosterone driven side of me only comes out when enough whisky to inebriate a fully grown work horse is consumed in a single sitting.
Now that all the background information is taken care of I believe it is time for the real story...
It was a few days after New Years and I woke up that morning just looking to get weird that night. I had just spent nearly 10 days with my family, away from my friends, and I hadn't consumed a single drop of alcohol the entire time. Therefore, I missed all of the usual seasonal drinking. For instance, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Years Eve, and so on. Needless to say, I had the itch to forget how to walk.
Shortly after I woke up I called my friend James and expressed to him my situation. Luckily, he loves alcohol as much as anyone, so he could understand my obvious dismay. I asked him if he could do something about my problem and he simply responded with, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."
Later on that night I found myself in my buddy James' basement with, as expressed before, enough whiskey to completely sedate a Clydesdale. The night started with me just being typical. I was very happy to be back home, and having fun with my friends. As the night progressed, I kept drinking whiskey, and as anyone that is found of whiskey can attest, the drinks just kept tasting better, regardless of how strong they truly were.
The last thing I remember was demanding a female friend of mine to stop talking and go upstairs....
The next day, I woke up to the phone calls and text messages of my friends. Their messages helped me fill in the gaps of the night as accurately as possible. According to multiple accounts from that night, I was running throughout the basement tackling people, as if I were Terry Tate, in order to spill there drinks. As well as picking a fight with the television set and force-feeding his black Labrador alcohol.
Unfortunately, I had to deal with the repercussions of my alter-ego. This includes apologizing to nearly everyone that was at James' house and inevitably steam vacuuming his entire basement. However, that night has left a lasting impression on most people involved. So much so, that they decided to name my elusive alter-ego...
If you ever find yourself in South Bend, Indiana having a peaceful evening, just drinking with a few of your closest friends and out of no where you get blind sighted by a 5' 11", Caucasian male, that has a strong odor of Canadian Mist. Don't take it personal, you are just another victim of Whiskey Greg.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
#1
As I sit here trying to think of a good way to kick off this blog from the ruins of our failure of a blog known as K5W, I can feel nothing but excitement for the future of It's Always Sunny in Norwood.
The purpose of this blog is to share the tales, exploits and everyday occurrences of a select group of students from Xavier University. Many stories may revolve around events that occur in and around campus, but this does not mean that this is what all stories will be about. That would be boring. Instead all contributors are urged to blog about whatever they want, meaning this blog could simply consist of random and possibly incoherent rants over nothing. Funny as that may be, the truth is I have no idea where this blog will go, and neither does anyone else. I guess we'll all just have to enjoy the ride, but first: A word from our sponsors at IDeserveACar.com!
The purpose of this blog is to share the tales, exploits and everyday occurrences of a select group of students from Xavier University. Many stories may revolve around events that occur in and around campus, but this does not mean that this is what all stories will be about. That would be boring. Instead all contributors are urged to blog about whatever they want, meaning this blog could simply consist of random and possibly incoherent rants over nothing. Funny as that may be, the truth is I have no idea where this blog will go, and neither does anyone else. I guess we'll all just have to enjoy the ride, but first: A word from our sponsors at IDeserveACar.com!
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