rock over London. rock on, Chicago.

so down at the bottom of the page, there’s that little multicolored square. it says how many people view the site every day, for how long each viewed it, and how they ended up here.
I mean, ending up here could be as simple as typing in the address, which isn’t exciting or funny.
but, you can find my blog by doing keyword searches too.
it’s fucking great. I get to see what people searched after they’ve showed up here instead, probably disappointed. I don’t really have the content that they’re looking for.
so here’s a list of search terms that brought up dudeokay.blogspot.com instead of, well, what they were looking for.
check- check- check it out:

“big black chicago tits”
“tits patrol”
“big big tits hentai” (note: hentai is Japanese anime where the characters fuck instead of fighting robots or hanging out with pokemon or some shit like that. cartoon porno. it’s awesome.)
“those boobs look heavy let me hold them for you shirt”
“the diamond’s war” (Lou Diamond Phillips’ ass, baby! that takes me back!)
“sex toys in chicago”
“ann coulter pie video”

go to search.yahoo.com, and type in any one of those, and I’ll come up about 7 pages deep in the list of results.
that’s great publicity.

so my father-in-law asks me, he says,
“if somebody offered you top level job – we’re talkin’ 100, 200 grand here – would you take that earring out of your ear?”
I don’t say anything; I just look at him.
and he smiles,
and goes, “that’s what I thought. I knew you’d take it out.”

and I thought
man, he doesn’t really know me at all.

Longa still lives in South Africa.
sorry to be so cryptic.

ps- happy birthday, Galia

so I was rummaging around in the ol’ “my documents” folder on my computer, looking for a syllabus for D302. it’s not there, of course. but something else was!

this was a week or two after the Republican convention last year. early October? early October or late September, I think. when the fuck was that? I don’t remember why I wrote it. probably tried to submit it to the paper. that’d explain why it’s clean. or the fact that I don’t really say anything of substance.
but anyways.


Thoughts on the political season – by Matt!

I have created a drinking game. And it’s a fun one too. I can’t really hold it up next to other drinking games because I don’t really know any others. But it’s easy to learn, and for that alone, it quite simply rules.
See, here’s what you do:
Step one: tune into a speech or debate featuring a major party’s presidential candidate.
Step two: listen carefully as the candidate speaks.
Step three: each time the words “freedom” or “liberty” are used, take a shot of hard liquor. If any of these words are mentioned together in the same phrase, like “liberating freedom” or “freeing liberty,” take two. Feel free to add or substitute buzzwords and catchphrases as you see fit, but be warned: you’re gonna need a lot of liquor.
Before alcohol is introduced to the equation, it’s in my humble opinion that presidential politics suck. I watched both political conventions. Both candidates were overshadowed by their keynote speakers, because neither candidate dared to say something substantial enough to alienate the precious swing vote. Bush and Kerry are so afraid of losing the middle ground that neither will play to their base, nor will they say anything worth repeating. This makes for some pretty dry campaign speeches.
Now, if you wanted to watch something entertaining, you should have caught Zell Miller’s ad hominem rant before a convention hall full of screaming zealots. That is politics: throwing truth to the wind, grabbing a hold of that seething rage inside, and lettin’ her rip. That man was truly pissed, and for a moment looked like he might grow fangs – the polar opposite of Barrack Obama, who a month ago brightened everyone’s day with his “awesome God in the blue states, gay friends in the red states” speech. A feel good message, though equally devoid of truth. We know that God has no place in Massachusetts and homosexuals fled Texas years ago. Regardless of the obvious differences in approach, both were entertaining. And as of right now, I’d rather see an Obama v. Miller race than the one we’re currently faced with, if only it might keep me interested.
If these two slouches, Bush and Kerry, are the best the major parties can come up with, then something needs to change. Bush? One thing that should immediately disqualify him (besides using September 11th for political gain during the convention – what a scumbag) is the fact that his father was once president. Out of a nation of around 300 million people, the candidate the Republicans nominate is the privileged son of a former leader. No one else struck them as more capable or deserving? I always found that pretty weak. And as for Kerry, well, that guy is about as inspiring as grim death. I think most would agree to that.
In the end, I’ll still drag myself to the polls. Though I can’t say I’m excited. I’ll do it simply out of civic duty, because I’m a firm believer in the “don’t vote, then don’t bitch” policy. It’s no surprise such a chunk of the population skips voting on election day, as our leaders throw around phrases and buzzwords that have no place or meaning to the voters outside of a stump speech. Empty words equate to empty messages and empty promises. So. Until the candidates have something meaningful to say, I’ll be hitting the Wild Turkey pretty hard.

so Ashley keeps on bringing up the fact that I didn’t get her anything for her birthday whenever I point out that she so coldheartedly failed to give me a gift on tuesday.

YOU CAN KEEP ON RUNNING, ASHLEY, BUT WE ALL KNOW THAT YOU’RE JUST LOOKING FOR EXCUSES FOR WHY YOU FAILED TO GET ME AN AWESOME PRESENT.

glad I got that out of the way.

I’ve got a 8-10 million page paper due on Wharton’s “House of Mirth” due friday. don’t even sweat it, cause I’ve got it all worked out in my brain already, ya heard?
I’ve got another 8-10 billion page paper due on Russian public opinion after the Soviet collapse.
okay, I’m sweating that one a little. I haven’t even cracked that motherfucker yet.
then I’ve got another 2 pager due on friday, and then another 10 on monday, then I’ve got to act in Galia’s scene on monday night.
then a final exam on tuesday.
and then I start the copy editing thing on wednesday.
and then I start class the monday after next. jesus christ.

so this is how I start off another year of my life. all sorts of responsibility. but it ain’t no thing. I’m too hard for y’all.

SOMETHING TO CHARLESTON CHEW ON:
http://abcnews.go.com/US/wireStory?id=706030
that scene would make a great metaphor for an environmentalist cause, I think. I bet adbusters and Peta and about a hundred other groups are hard at work on some subversive ad campaign right now.

it’s dead week. right.
it’s anything but fucking dead.

I’ve got an extra credit essay due tomorrow, a paper due thursday, a paper due friday, and a take home exam due next monday. and somewhere in between now and next thursday, a Mexican history exam (I lost my syllabus, so I’m not sure what day exactly). what’s fucking dead about that???
oh, and I’m supposed to be ready for that scene for Galia’s directing class by next Monday, too.

I might have gotten the job as copy chief for the summer. key word is might. supposedly, they weren’t going to have a copy chief at all because they can’t fit it into their budget, but if they can, it’s gonna be me.
I don’t work at the paper for the money anyway. they pay 4$ an hour. I don’t even think that’s legal, so I don’t even fill out a payslip half the time.

Mar’s birthday was saturday. like a good brother, I didn’t get her anything. but I got her something today, and I know she’ll read this cause she checks this like six times a day, so come over and get it, Mar.

and my birthday is tomorrow.
Ashley didn’t get me anything, though.
thanks, Ashley.

1. two boxes of Banana Nut Crunch. on sale.
2. Oreos. on sale.
3. gallon of milk. necessity. not on sale.
4. six pack of Miller Lite. Dad and Debbie are coming; Debbie might go for some Gatorade or milk, but Dad probably won’t.
5. Gatorade (foreshadowed!)
6. big ass tub of sherbet. on sale!
7. potato salad. it’s like a drug.
8. Rice-a-motherfucking-Roni. on sale.
9. frozen pizza. on sale!
10. a canteloupe. everybody likes canteloupe. is that how you spell “canteloupe?” is there a “u” in there?
11. easy mac. on sale.

total savings: 15.48
I’m gonna start clipping coupons like my Grandma.



oh yeah, and because I’m morbid, I watched that video of the chopper crash and the summary execution of the lone survivor. the one in Iraq, duh.
it’s at ogrish.com for anyone with the stomach for it.
there are crazy people in this world.

gather round, y’all, and watch as Matt goes from weepy, to apologetic, to indignant, to fiery, to gloomy, to the life of the party. all in a day’s work!

I didn’t kick that test’s ass, but I did a lot better than I did on the last one. even if that’s not saying much.

on a sidenote: where the hell is Ashley?

on another sidenote: I’m at six laps a day on the track. hey, it’s a big track, lay off me.

215: I need to call Spencer. hear that, Spencer? I’m gonna call yous.

F: I’ve got to work tonight. and that’s fine, cause I’m totally okay with eating free food, playing Donkey Kong, and getting paid for it.

%4: Tom DeLay is still a piece of shit asshole, in case any of you fell asleep. look! he doesn’t like a Supreme Court justice, even though the justice is conservative, and was appointed by Reagan. (apparently, he doesn’t constantly tow the party line. better have him impeached.)
http://www.suntimes.com/output/elect/cst-nws-dside21.html

I’m out!

this is it. this is when they separate the deserving from those just hanging on.

I’ve got a test on Thursday. in D302.
in the last few weeks, I’ve gotten two different grades back for that class. I failed an exam, and I got an A on a paper.
I don’t know for sure, but I think the exam is worth more. that would be fitting.
I also don’t know for sure, but I think that ever since I was on academic probation about five semesters ago, I’ve been eligible for suspension/expulsion if my semester GPA drops below a 2.0.
I’ll have put in four years here. I can’t imagine what would happen. imagine the reaction.
it says a lot about me that when it comes to my classes, to academics, to where I stand, I “don’t know for sure.” I never fucking know for sure. it’s like I’ve been waiting to actually give a shit, to start trying, to start securing my future (or something like that). it’s like I’m in a race, and the gun sounded a long time ago, and I’m still kicking it at the starting blocks waiting to get my run on. when I should have been running all along.
I mean, even as I type this, I still don’t feel like running. and I know I should. this making any sense? is anyone actually listening?

I stopped hanging out at the blocks for about two hours tonight to see David Sedaris do a reading. paid 25 dollars for it. he’s funny, I never doubted that. but I’ve a couple of his books, and I didn’t have to pay 25 dollars to read them, so I guess I’m a little burned.
I fell asleep for a second during the reading, but woke up and made myself pay attention. I’m too cheap to sleep through 25 dollars. anyway, the crowd loved him. he seemed like a nice guy.
afterward, Ashley (who enjoyed the show; don’t get me wrong) said she didn’t like how people were jumping the gun to laugh at some of his jokes, when she would bet that half of them didn’t get the joke to begin with (let alone the punchline).
I’m feeling something along those lines. I didn’t bust a gut all night, even though I appreciate Sedaris’ humor. I don’t know, there’s something I find morbid about laughing, dying in a large audience. sometimes I do it at the movies, but not tonight. you can chalk that up to me being standoffish and difficult. I won’t object.

oh. and. that girl from the bar wants to go on a date.
I’m so easily flattered.

verbatim:

hey Matt, it’s Josh. so, ahhh. I went – me and Galia got stoned in your living room, and then she had to leave to go that, to ah, to make that video tonight
so
I’m sitting here stoned by myself and
I’m – I find myself listening to the Band, on your stereo system
cause I don’t have my CD – I didn’t know I was gonna get stoned
and I sit here, and I turn on the television
and I’m watching Seinfeld heh heheh…
I’m not really paying attention to either one.
and I’m thinking (unintelligible)
and I’m like, “wow. I really love being stoned.”

courtesy of Phil:
http://entertainment.msn.com/music/article.aspx?news=188232

Ted Nugent is bugfuck crazy.

“No one is allowed at our barbecues unless they are an NRA member. Do that in your life.”

“To show you how radical I am, I want carjackers dead. I want rapists dead. I want burglars dead. I want child molesters dead. I want the bad guys dead. No court case. No parole. No early release. I want ‘em dead. Get a gun and when they attack you, shoot ‘em.”

bask in the Nuge’s glory. he’s serious.

sidenote: Cave turned state’s evidence. and took on a hit squad. RESPECT.