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Below are the 9 most recent journal entries recorded in
cliche_log_name's LiveJournal:
| Saturday, July 24th, 2004 | | 10:03 pm |
| | Monday, May 24th, 2004 | | 7:22 pm |
FlashDave
Someone suggested I make my journal more aesthetically pleasing, so here I go.... Notice a difference? I'm using the ebony font rather than the black font, tres chic, no? More to come later today... And here it is. As you may notice, my journal titles play on the titles of movies by adding my name where it fits. It's super-egotistical, I know, but hey, I'm hot. So I am above the laws of social conduct. Anyway, my title is special today. It pokes fun at the title Flashdance (get it?) and it actually has signifigance to my topic (which usually doesn't occur): PROM, its big, its fun, its freakin' hot. Not hot in the good way. Hot in the "Hey, did my face just melt off and land on your shoe?" way. There was obviously some mix-up in the choosing of this location, the House of Blues is a nice place with an ok atmosphere but try cramming four hundred and fifty horny teenagers in to a room about the size of a can of Planter's Cashews, yes Planter's, the only peanut with a monocle you can trust. (They're my new sponsor.) So anywho, the dance floor was a severe choking hazard, honestly, Annie (my date) and I went onto the actual dance floor and Annie found herself clamped down to a pole by a large, sweaty man whom I had to elbow in the neck just to save my poor date's pancreas from bursting. Danny and Steven put their life at risk and actually made it through the Normandy-like (look it up) dance floor. What really surprises me is the lengths women will go to just so they can look pretty for prom. There are two kinds of people women will actually kill, someone who attacks a loved one of theirs, and that chick who plans on wearing the same outfit as they are. I never knew what extents a female would go to just so there isn't an outfit duplication. I just talked to a guy whose date blew her stack when she saw another with the same PURSE as her. I could imagine seeing a disembodied head hanging from the ceiling of the House of Blues with a sign on it saying, "Same dress = same death" scribbled on it. It must be tough on designers and distributers, I think there is a state law requiring dress distribution to be limited to one dress, of a certain style, per school district. This is simply to reduce the amount of IDRES's or Identical Dress Related Eye Scratchings. I found a way to legal torture war prisoners, put them in a girl's prom shoes. They will either give you all the information you need, or pass out from the agony. A girl's toes are so smashed together in her shoes, I'm surprised they don't just meld to each other to form one giant, point-shaped, toe-pad thing... My date was a cool kid. Despite what this insinuates, I did have fun. I'm just better at griping about stuff. I am slightly perturbed by Cocoa Puffs decision to change their mascot's appearance. His name is Sonny, and he is a cuckoo bird or a parrot or something, I don't mind his his bird-type ambiguity, what I do mind is his "make-over". At first, Sonny was a bold character who sported a Lettermen's Jacket and a neat pair of sneakers. For some reason, the corporate fat-cats felt that Sonny needed a new image. So what did the ad-wizards at General Mills Cereals(tm) come up with? How about nudity?! Yes folks, the big change for Sonny was that they stripped him of his clothing, leaving nothing but his bright orange feathers. I can imagine a couple of graphic designers hired to turn Sonny into a hip, new spokes-toon, no ideas come to them except for how funny it would look if they drew a wee-wee onto a naked Sonny. Time runs out and they work with the only thing they got, a cuckoo-bird/parrot with a wee-wee. They remove the "uncouth" anatomy and turn it in. The married and incredibly drunk CEO of General Mills is too distracted by his hoochy secretary to bother with some Cartoon character, so he simply slams his "OK" stamp on the paper and there you go.... Naked Parrot. "But David! Toucan Sam (of Froot Loops) is naked! He's been naked for years! Why don't you complain about him?" Poo! Look at that poor guy! Sam could only wear baby clothes!! And do you really expect him to fit a freakin' t-shirt over his titanic beak?! Use some common sense! And his feet are larger than his torso! No pair of trousers shall ever rest upon his waist. At least Sonny could wear some spandex, he's as big as a 4th grader at least. "But David, A.k.a. D.J. Croquet, what if Toucan Sam got custom made spandex?" Open your eyes people. Toucans have been discriminated against for years in the Spandex business. Ever since the "Toucan Rico V. Body Glove" case of 1820. Now that you've read this, I completely understand if you want to keep a couple of feet away from me for the next few days. | | Monday, May 3rd, 2004 | | 7:58 pm |
Independence Dave
Honestly, Whitney Houston's life would be an amazing, triumphant story had it only been played backwards... crackwhore THEN amazing vocalist. Body Image, a lot of people new I would hit this one day and they were right. So here it is: I am afraid of piercings, all kinds, it doesn't matter if it's in the ear, tongue, nose, pelvis, butt, eyeball, pancreas, in between the spleen and the lower intestine, your vocal chords together, your eyelids shut, or just a giant chain that goes in through your mouth, all the way through the body, comes out, and goes back to the mouth. It honestly so strange. I want you, the reader, to do something for me. I want you to imagine pushing a pin into your earlobe, and now imagine just leaving it there... that, my friend, is a piercing. Now piercings look alright, at times, but I saw a woman walking around with a piercing through the TOP OF HER NOSE. Not the tip, not the nostril, but the top, right between the eyes. Now the only thing I could think of as I was talking to this woman is, "Would it whistle when she breathed if I took it out?" Her words melted away and all I could look at was the piercing, it formed lips on it and started saying, "Hey David, look, I can whistle. Tooo Teee Tooooo." And people thought it looked sexy. Now, no offense but I don't take too much notice of a diamond encrusted eyebrow. It may just be out of spite though. The reason I may not observe a nice piece of metal in one's skin is because I have taped tons of pennies and quarters to my face and no one has given me a single nice comment. And then some girl walks by with a bar sticking through her entire neck and all of the sudden she's the sexiest woman alive. Harumph. America loves rare things, jewels, gold, out-of-print stamps, trading cards. Why not really ugly people? Pretty people are everywhere! Really ugly people, like me (and if you compliment me I will erase it from the comments), are a rarity to come by nowadays. You ought to cherish us uglies now, because with all the surgery and celebrity breeding we have going on, ugly people won't be around forever. You know who I want to meet? A man with a sandwich named after him. Shameless plug: Comedysportz final match is coming up so ask me about the details! If you don't show up then your birth was a mistake. I feel very strongly about CSz, I have killed people... | | Monday, April 19th, 2004 | | 8:49 pm |
As Dave As it Gets
My journal is guaranteed entertaining or your money back. It's been a while since I have last posted. I tried to maintain a five day schedule, every five days I would put in a new entry but a wrench was thrown into the journaling works. A wrench named Mexico. I had gone on mission trip, yes, David does nice things from time to time, believe it or not. This mission was to build a house for under-privileged family. I did. So that's that. What really seems to tickle the interest of those I talk to is my amazing journey through Tijuana. Yes, Tijuana, where everything is done under age, kids smoke, teens drink, and young men die early but not before visiting countless strip clubs. I was wandering through because it is tradition for our group to stop in Tijuana on the way home and do a little shopping. I hadn't planned on shopping as much as I planned on being immensely entertained. Tijuana wouldn't fail me there. Camden, my jolly redheaded friend, and I meandered through what was kind of a courtyard. We walked past stores. Now the men who own these stores are a different breed of salesmen. They will do anything to get you in their store, ANYTHING. They called out to us at first, they complimented us, offered us free tequila (in Tijuana everything comes with a free shot of Tequila), and they grabbed us. I finally knew what sexual harassment feels like, it's like walking through a Tijuana marketplace. I was enjoying my harassment though, I suppose it's my slightly twisted sense of humor. The store owners kept pitching though,I have to hand it to 'em, a lot were really creative. One man came up to me grabbed me by the arm and said "Joo are under arrest for two minutes." I commended him. I didn't go in his store, but I commended him. Another man tried to lure me and Camden into his store with narcotics, slowly increasing in their illegality as his desperation grew. "Joo guys like beer? Joo come into my store and I give you free beer. Okay?" We continued walking. "Joo guys like tequila? Joo come into my store I give free shot of Tequila. Okay?" We continued walking, we could see him start to get anxious, he leans in close to us. "Joo guys like weed? Joo come in, we puff. Okay?" We were still walking. He took a deep breath, he leaned in so close that I could smell the Tecate on his breath. "..." "..." "Joo guys like heroin?" And with that we departed. Tijuana is a lot like Disneyland , if Disneyland had cheap merchandise at tremendous prices... wait... that IS Disneyland. Tijuana is like Disneyland but with a free shot of tequila for every man, woman, and child. Try to say "Dave" angrily, it's not possible. DavID, sure, but not Dave. People try and tell me that our society is on its way down the tubes. I ask them how. They tell me, "Well what passes for entertainment these days is just horrible." I am angered by this. Has anyone paid any attention to history class?! Ancient Romans would get to together and throw Christians into an arena filled, no not with obstacles, not with bugs to be eaten,not with difficult trivia questions, with lions. Yes, honest to god, man-eating lions. And someone tells me that the human race is going down the toilet because there are a few ninja cartoons on t.v.? In the thirties and forties, movies were coming out and a little movie called THE JAZZ SINGER had come to theaters. You may recall that it was the first movie to be accompanied with sound. Wonderful, but have you heard of the movie style blackface? No it's not a killer or a Bond villain. Its when the screenplay calls for an all black cast, so, instead of hiring an all black cast, the producers hire and all WHITE cast and the actors are told to paint their faces with shoe polish to give the effect that they are African American. Not only that but they are told to portray the stereotypes of African Americans at the time! And someone is outraged today because someone's tushie can be seen in a PG-13 movie. I don't get it. Chimichanga. No word is more fun to say. | | Sunday, April 4th, 2004 | | 4:33 pm |
Night Of the Living Dave
What the world needs now is not love, sweet love. It needs a pope with a jetpack. Man, it sucks to come home cracking up and then not being able to tell anyone in the house what was so funny. That happened to me last night. Last night= Saturday, April 3rd. I was having a delightful time at my friend Cori's house and after about 3 anime films, don't worry I will rant about this stuff later, Garret and I decided to leave. We exited Cori's apartment, went down the stairs and into the parking lot. There, I was greeted by Garret's truck; if you can even call it a truck. It looked more like a green sedan that had a cruel joke played on it, when its rear-end was replaced by a truck-bed. Its a car that looks like it would be made fun of by other cars. We entered the "thing", I sat in the middle because our friend Paul needed to be driven to his car. I couldn't find a seat-belt, and then I realized, a seat-belt would probably lead to your end in this car. And what I mean by that is, if Garret were to crash the midget truck into something, anything at all, trees, mailboxes, tissue paper, etc., then the sedan/truck would most likely burst into flames long before you could even get the belt unbuckled. So I decided not to put the seat-belt on. We dropped Paul off at his car, you could lightly hear Paul's car giggling at Garret's truck-like object. We departed Paul, Paul's car was now laughing it's headlights off. (get it? HEADlights? yea, neither do i...) We drove down Santa Margarita, telling our driving stories, mine of how me and my father encountered a man spinning through an intersection in his car, screaming like a woman. I looked at the dashboard, all the needles except for the speedometer were all pointing in the same direction, obviously they hadn't been in use for at least 15 years. I looked down, there was no radio, I immediately thought this car was the spawn of hades. But I was having a good time, Garret and I were laughing it up. And then we arrived at the Dove Canyon Security gate... As we were approaching the gate I told Garret about a friend of mine who had just drivin' through the gate without stopping to get a pass. I probably shouldn't have told him, but I did anyway. We pulled into the gate of Dove, the gate guard was standing in his little room, behind a closed glass door. His back was to us, and perhaps it was the story I told, perhaps it was Garret's impatience, perhaps we both had so much caffeine that night that it began to affect our judgment, but Garret just floored it. He pushed the pedal to the floor, the tires squealed in the gate and we zoomed off. Maybe zoomed isn't the best word to use in that situation considering the car won't go excess speeds of fifty-six miles per hour. So, we were sort of zooming through Dove Canyon laughing our heads off at what had just happened. Due to our laughing, Garret just zooms through not one but two stop signs, luckily Dove Canyon is infested with children and old people and it was way past both of their bed times, so the intersections were uninhabited. And those acts of complete and utter lack of common sense just made us laugh even harder. I was dropped off at my house, still laughing. And as I walked in, still laughing, my father and little brother both asked what I was laughing about. I thought to myself, "Man, it sucks to come home cracking up and then not be able to tell anyone what is so funny." | | Tuesday, March 30th, 2004 | | 8:24 pm |
The Passion of the Dave
I was thinking about death the other day (don't worry my mind is in a healthy state of numbness) and I realized if I died in such a horrendous way, like horrible enough to make it to the news, I would be worried if they would put my school picture up or not. Ya know, they always show a nice picture of the victim after telling about the accident. I know it seems odd that I focused on not how I might die but what picture was going to be used for my remembrance, but you don't understand, my yearbook picture sucks. I look toadish. Honestly, I am a toad in a nice button up shirt. I could just imagine what would happen. People would be filled with grief from my story and then they would see my picture and think to themselves, "Man what a lousy picture choice..." and they would just continue eating their waffles. My parents will be chastised for creating the half man half toad. The scientific community will claim they have finally found the missing link. Weekly World News will seem like a valid news source. And then later, an aspiring screenwriter will find the story of my life and be touched by it but then when he sees the "remembrance picture" he will think of a title. What title do you ask? It would be... THE DEATH OF TOADBOY To solve this problem I spoke with my mother about my death picture, she was very cooperative. We looked through my recent pictures chose one to be my death pic and we planned on doing this once a year unless I become very ugly, then we will stick with a more aesthetically pleasing picture of a year gone by. A kick in the neck is just another way of saying "I love you". I love my ferret hat. Despite anyone's best efforts, I will not change the way I feel about the ferret hat. For those who do not know what it is; the ferret hat is not, as you may tend to think, made out of ferrets, its no freakin' raccoon skin hat. It is far too dignified. The ferret hat is a white, and what I've been told, trucker hat. And on the front it has a picture of what seems to be a crazed ferret with, what I can only describe as, a sideways, two-wheeled skateboard made of lightning. I really don't know what it is but that's what it looks like. And around this amazing work of art are the words "Ferret: Above the Best". Not only is the art pointless, but the slogan doesn't even make sense! You just can't be above the best, it's impossible! But it is the ferret hat so its better than you. But the ferret hat's frills don't end there! The hat has a rope resting on the brim, why? It doesn't need a reason! It's the ferret hat and it will beat the crap out of you AND your dad. So the next time you or a friend feel the need to tell me I look bad in my ferret hat, remember, I do not wear it for the looks, I wear it for the power. You have no friends if you don't like the ferret hat. | | Thursday, March 25th, 2004 | | 5:06 pm |
Indiana Jones: Temple of Dave
If they made a sequel to the movie Se7en I would call it Se7en 2: Fourteen. Fullerton is tomorrow, and seeing that the only link to this is on my AIM profile, you guys probably won't read this until I get back but just in case I do sign on today and you read it... CONGRATULATIONS! You're Creepy. I must admit, I stole that joke from Maddox. I do not condone any joke stealing unless it is admitted before or immediately after the joke is used. Now that I have gotten through that gratuitous work of space filling, I would like to continue with my "journaling". Every so often I learn something about women, today I believe I have found out one of the most important things to know. One thing a man should never say to a girl is, "Wow, I didn't even notice you were there." After this is said the man might as well just kick the girl in the pants and tie a burlap sack around her face. For some reason this is a major downer to women. Frankly when somebody says they never even noticed me I feel proud and immediately attribute it to my amazing Jedi Stealth powers. But many women don't seem to be in tune with the force so logically they feel bad when they aren't noticed. I suppose the only thing to do, when you seem them, is to assume that they have been there for at least 4 hours and act as though you saw them, and not only that, but you KNEW they were coming. Cabbit, I knew you were there. :-) There's a stereotype for those who hate stereotypes. We quote too much. We quote so much that we forget our own ideas. If we find a quote we like we put it on our binder or our profile or our skin. It doesn't have to be what we believe, it doesn't even have to make sense. All it has to do is have this flow to fool people into believing it actually means something. I experimented with this, I took some "thoughtful" prose I made up on the spot, slapped a fake name to the end, put it in my profile and watched the results: Here's what it said: No heart is left unbroken No heart is left to be broken Life is full of things like this. -Arlen Freedpach Now the first two line could possibly make sense, possibly, but the last line has no meaning whatsoever, but I still got four people to comment on my quote, all liking it and one even told my that they loved the writings of Arlen Freedpach (my made up author). I don't want to make these people feel bad, I simply want to make a point that we need to stop representing ourselves on our binders with quotes that we just think sound intelligent and thoughtful. If the quote has a deep significance to you, go for it, show people, but think for yourselves. Make your own quotes, write you own philosophy, who cares if afterwards you find out someone has the exact same philosophy, at least you thought up yours by yourself. We need to stop repeating quotes and start making 'em. You can quote me. | | Saturday, March 20th, 2004 | | 11:40 am |
The Davetrix: Reloaded
I feel re-energized. I had a comedysportz match last night, my high school improv troupe in case I haven't explained it to you already, and I went out into the crowd to simply see who was there and I saw the plethora of people I knew out there supporting me. Feeling loved? Yessir, very much so. The match went well I think I made people laugh, I dunno I wasn't paying attention, but everyone else did great. Afterwards I had gone to, and I'm not afraid to say this, the happiest place on earth, DENNY'S. You can't have a bad time at DENNY'S, it's impossible. No one takes a person to DENNY'S intent on having a serious conversation: Father: Well Eric, we have something we need to talk about. I'm not going to delay it any longer but, (The waiter comes to the table) Father (cont'd): I'm not your real fa--(sees waiter), oh, I'll have a Moons Over My Hammy, anyway, where were we? Definitely not something to do at DENNY'S, the word "Hammy" shouldn't even be allowed in everyday conversation, but DENNY'S make it possible. One thing I hate in writings are bad transitions... So I was walking along at school one day eating a strawberry shortcake ice cream novelty bar on a stick and as I was walking by a group of kids I hear one of them shout out, "Get offa me ya F**k-Dumber!" And not only was that the worst insult in the history of english, the reciever of this was infuriated, as if he didn't even notice the boy had just said, "F**k-Dumber." I didn't believe all that stuff about troubled youth before but when "F**k-Dumber" passes off as a reasonable insult I can't help but feel our youth are going down the tubes. Speaking of insults, I have created a word that sounds like an insult but has no meaning whatsoever: applebanger. Other words that sound naughty: cloister, buzzcock (sounds like a marital aid), jumblo(a kind of gum), hot toddy(look it up), giblets, spunk, legumes, and Humphrey Bogart. | | Monday, March 15th, 2004 | | 7:49 pm |
Dave's Journal II-The Search for Curly's Gold
You are going to have to bear with me for a while on this new journal, it's far more technical than Melo, but the load time for live journal, unlike Melodramatic.com, is not like watching slugs mate. Considering most people reading this already know me it seems it would be pointless of me to do an introduction of myself, but hey, I love hearing about myself and you should too.:-D <-- (smiley face not a hoohah) I'm a man of oddities, I would constantly change myself for the different groups and people I hung out with, and I'm finally comfortable with the Dave I have found. If you do not like this Dave then I shall say "tough cookies" for like I said I'm finally comfortable with who I am: the sexiest man alive. I am single as of now, you lucky ladies, I am looking for some fun dates, but I have just gotten out of a NINE MONTH RELATIONSHIP, so I am not sure if I want a serious relationship, but I quickly change my mind under the right circumstances. I hate being mature, maturity is for weddings, formal dinners and funerals, maturity means solemnity, and solemnity is just another word for dead. It also means those horrendously stupid conversations adults have: Adult 1: So my son was eating Capt. Crunch today and playing his "Pokie Man" (deliberate saying it wrong to seem as though he has too much time on his hands to realize his son has been shrieking "pokemon" all through Christmas) and he looks up and guess what he says? Adult 2: Oh dear, what'd lil Mikey say now? (acting courteously, aka he doesn't care) Adult 1: (In a high pitch voice but not high enough to sound like he's trying) Daddy! I want a milk! (Both emit laughs sounding as though they finally realized this story isn't as good as they thought it'd be.) These things I want to avoid! Some of our youth are already slipping into this! I enjoy strange movies. If it's shocking, has wierd characters, or freaky-deaky philosophy then I will most likely take a stab at it. I also enjoy most comedies, the only ones I don't enjoy are the ones that aren't funny. Please don't ask me what my favorite movie is, there are to many to choose from. Music! If its and get me to bang my head, get me pumped, mellow me out, or just plain inspire me then i shall listen to it, no matter what. I have a wierd thing for Destiny's Child, some may say I have the jungle fever for Beyonce or I just have serious issues with my identity, but either way I enjoy their happenin' grooves. Some say I am the new "It Girl" of my generation. Just thought I'd throw that in there. My mind is a strange place, many people have gotten lost in conversations with me because of my tendency to leave out entire words and sometimes entire sentences out of what I wanted to say in the first place. So from. "I want to see that episode of Good Eats that's targeted for old people," you may get, "I want to eat old people." Its just something people have to deal with, just think of figuring my sentences out as a video game except you can't steal cars or beat hookers with a golf club in this one. There's more to me I'm sure but I just can't remember anything. So if you've actually read through all of this, kudos, cause I sure wouldn't have. There will be more on my actually life as time progresses, but don't expect too much diary, "i like this girl" kind of stuff, it'll be more of the loopy things that go on in my head and the heads of others, enjoy. |
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