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Look, it's my childhood mocking me.

There’s some sort of state high school band competition going on at the University through the weekend, which means lots of pale, frizzy haired girls, and guys who prefer a good pair of jean shorts and tube socks.

I tend to hate when the University hosts these competitions for high school. Being the biggest school in the state, we seem to always host state championships. During these times the whole fucking campus is swarming with awkwardly mid-pubescent kids acting about as mature as the time I lost in Mortal Kombat to the kid who sucked at everything. Everywhere I go, these kids are everywhere: on my way to class, in the Chipotle where I want to get lunch, and probably most annoying is the fact that, because malls don’t exist outside of this place, they all flock to look at things that they aren’t going to buy. It’s called fucking Amazon.com, use it.

All this made me laugh at the fact that when I was in high school I had this majorly skewed perspective on where I was in life. Everyone has this issue, and everyone always will. I thought I was a hot shot, mature, that I was “old”. Back then I thought that, “Wow, I was such a dumbass in middle school—now I am a legitimate bad ass.” As you know, this is something that can be traced back as far as you could remember; the older you get, the cooler you are. So, in a matter of a few years I’ll look back on this piece of writing and look just as harshly on it. This is sort of discouraging, but it does mean, I would suppose, that people continually get better. It’s all perpetuating this cycle of nostalgic self-deprecation that will keep going until I’m 80 and saying, “Jesus, that was really lame when I was all into staying up late, well into 5:00pm.”

Fuck, I was really stupid when I wrote this.

Radiohead needs to stop the "live" studio sessions.

This shit got old a while ago. There’s nothing exciting about seeing an airing of House of Cards recorded in a studio. Come on. Do Bodysnatchers, or 15 Step, or anything not as energy deficient as House of Cards. They might as well have played Wicked Game by Chris Isaak. Watching Yorke & Co. play this thing last night on Conan was like watching my grandma do a crossword puzzle, even though she’s pretty fucking good at them.

I get the whole “eco-friendly” tyrade that Yorke is going on, and I definitely give my props for it, but it seems kind of arrogant to think people care about watching a recording of the band playing, especially due to the fact that they’ve been doing this nonstop for the last seven months. It’s old. Hopefully the tour will signify the end of it.

Perplexed.

My propensity to blog sometimes seems unhealthy. I constantly work to enhance the experience I am offering on my main blog, 95total, along with working on three additional blogs, including this one. All the writing has in some ways turned this into a conversation with myself.

I find this ironic in many ways because the idea of a blog is to share with the world your ideas, quirks, likes, dislikes, etc. Instead, it feels like I am constantly reaffirming something in my head that is looking for approval. It’s as if my writing is just a manifestation of my need for the approval of my ideas.

Do you approve?