The Box Co.

Brief Updates

  • Travis was/is asking Dianne to the prom possibly as I type. If she says yes, my chances of dancing with her are squelched.

  • I’m going to fail my Discrete Test tomorrow

  • I’m building up an excellent case against Binkle for an English Law assignment

  • The prosecution sucks

  • I have many assignments due this week

  • The internet will be gone after this week

  • I’m a complete coward, and would never ask anyone to prom…

  • I’m willing to offer rides to prom now that I can drive (got my G2), so if any of my friends wish to receive pick ups then that is good. Travis needs a ride with me too, since he doesn’t want to show up alone (he says its loserish…yet, I’m showing up alone)…

Oh…I see…

Binkle, if you see Travis on MSN, ask him how it went. I am dying to know.

This is the end…

My internet is being cancelled by my parents. The plug has been pulled on my video game consoles. I aprised (sp?) Binkle of the details. He may post about it. He may not. He’s essentially one of my only readers besides distant Brian and philosophes Josh. So, no one may notice.

Since I cannot update this anymore, I may just start drawing Loonie Bin comics and have Binks host them. Don’t remove this blog Josh. I intend to post - if possible - at school.

Fin.

Nothing To Do With Anything

I’m rewriting this post to the best of my ability. It probably won’t be exactly as I had it before, and will therefore suck by comparison.


Act One: Show Me Your Marx

This has absolutely nothing to with Marx or the Communist Manifesto. This is simply an update on my schooling situation.

First of all, my marks are in.

My religion mark is a 90%, which is actually pretty high compared to what I expected from the course. My history mark is 93%. My discrete math mark is 98%. It dropped from the prophecized 99.5% because of a group activity known as Performance Problems, where a kid in my group entrusted with a single question royally screwed up. I took note of my teacher’s comments on the assignment. They were “What are you doing?” “Why are you doing this?” “Must you torture the beautiful art of Math with your blundering!!” And finally, my english mark is 93%.

This brings my average to 93% on my report card, leaving me two percent behind my rival/nemesis known simply as Andrew. Now, it should be brought to the attention of the reader that Andrew has an average that encompasses all of his best classes (and English). If I had all of my best classes in one semester (swap out religion and plop in Calculus), then I would also be sitting pretty at a 95% average.

Sadly, this is not the case. And, he is most likely going to win the award for best average. This is tragic, because truthfully it is all I can come out of high school with. I haven’t made any serious friendships, and the flames of friendship that I entered high school with are slowly dwindling because of the fierce winds of change. No relationships to speak of. No famous sports legacy or dramatic imprint on the school. It’s just the award. And this stuttering buffoon is going to beat me…

It’s depressing.

Anyway, if they give out awards for individual subjects, I will probably win for Discrete. Otherwise, I can kiss any awards goodbye. Sadness…

So, my marks in total for this year are:

Writer’s Craft: 91% Physics: 89% Chemistry: 87% Calculus: 94% Religion: 90% History: 93% Discrete Math: 98% English: 93%

I’m fairly happy. I think I might accomplish my personal goal of having more than fifty percent of my final marks be above 90%. It’s a victory, but a miniscule one in comparison to the awards lost.


Act Two: Back To The Future

Again, not about the movie. This is - surprisingly or no - about my own future.

Next year, I am returning to high school because of an indecision on my part in respect to my future. Where do I go? What do I do? I honestly have no idea whatsoever. A few plans have crossed my mind, but nothing truly concrete.

As far as I’m concerned, my options are as follows.

1) Get off my lazy ass, finish my book and get it published. If it all were to work out, then I could make a semi-decent living off of this. Plus, it would be doing something I enjoy. You can’t beat that. This is the platinum medal of all my choices. The first prize trophy. As unlikely as it is to happen, it is truly the ideal.

2) Write scripts for video game companies. While this may sound boring, I think it would be good fun. It isn’t completely out of the question, but it won’t be a cakewalk either. In order to fulfill this dream, it would be necessary (not completely, but I’d like it) to go to Vancouver Film School and take Writing for Film, Television and Interactive Media. Then, I’d have to get my foot in the door of some gaming company and wedge myself in the narrow opening.

3) The fallback, or silver lining in my master plan, would be to write for a video game magazine. I’d get to play games, and write reviews. Does it get any sweeter? Perhaps. But only with genetically modified additives. And although they may be the sweetest of the sweet, I wouldn’t mind lathering a cake with a bit of video game magazine icing. This job would also end with me on the West Coast, since this is where most gaming magazines have their respective head quarters.

4) The bronze medal - also known as crappy gold - would be to simply return to my small town and teach English or Math. In fact, if it were to come down to this, I would probably try to squeeze into my old high school. Why? It’s a nice place. Nice people. The most bizarre policies and assemblies I have ever seen, but still. It’s decent. The only downfall to this might be awkwardness. It’d be weird to walk through the hallways and referring to teacher’s by their first name. I could say “Hey Rich!” instead of “How’s it going Mr. Stehlik, sir?” or “Nice ass Julianne!” instead of “Nice ass Ms. Crowley…Ma’am.”

Interesting possibilities. I guess I’ll shoot for the platinum and hope the bullet won’t wear it down to bronze in a chemical reaction I’m quite sure can’t occur.


Act Three: Mirrors Aren’t More Fun Than Television

Nothing to do with Max Payne. This is the media section of my entry. And while assorted “Huzzah“‘s and “Whoopie“‘s might rise up from the low-brow crowd, this section isn’t entirely about television. There are two T.V. shows to discuss, one book, and one web comic…well, a comic anyway.

Lost. Season One is coming to a close. I doubt they will manage to wrap up anything. I’ve got high hopes…ridiculously high hopes. The only reason why I keep watching it is because I want to know how it ends. I watched a few episodes and was hooked. It’s an interesting ploy.

The entire series actually tells you nothing significant about what is going on. This is precisely the reason why you stay. So many bizarre and unexplainable things happen that you come back, week after week, to see if they’ll explain it. When they don’t, you shrug and say “I’ll catch them next time.” ABC must be making a killing off this show. Damn genius writers…

Also, Family Guy is coming back. The new episode leaked onto the Internet a week before it’s scheduled broadcast of May 1st, and I got myself a copy. You can too if you walk over to TvTorrent. (There was once a link there, but it seems that TvTorrent has gotten itself involved in some sort of lawsuit, so you’d better stay away). The episode is quite good. If you happen to talk to Binks, and he says it was all Passion of the Christ bashing, ignore him. They didn’t even get to the Passion of the Christ until partway through the episode, and it wasn’t bashing the movie. It was making fun of Mel Gibson and Jesus and the Church, in relation to Passion of the Christ, which is much better than I expected. The way Binks portrayed it had me believing they’d be sitting there going:

“And you know what else was dumb?” “No, what?” “Passion of the Christ!!!” “That’s just freakin’ hilarious.”

But, it had a lot of funny references. Binkle needs to see more older movies and T.V. shows in order to understand some of the references though.

I was going to talk about Man in the Mirror and “Loonie Bin”, but I’ll bring that up when I have more initiative. I’m still pissed that this post was deleted.


Act Four: Way to be Discrete…

In Discrete Math the other day, I think I may have said something unintentional. We were discussing the day on which we would write our Deductive Reasoning test. Tuesday was suggested, but it was the “Walk Against Male Violence”. Wednesday was no good, because some people were going to see a one man version of “Macbeth”. Monday was suggested, and Travis said that he had a chemistry test that day.

In an attempt to be funny, I said “Well then, it’s settled. We’ve got to have the math test the same day as his chemistry test!” And everyone chuckled. But then I noticed Dianne was shaking her head and mouthing the word “No…” to no one in particular. In her defense, I said “Wait, nevermind. If it affects someone other than Travis, we should re-schedule.”

To this, Travis said, “Yeah. It would affect Dianne, and you like Dianne. So, you wont want to do anything that bugs her, would you?”

It is at this point that I - with immense gymnastic skill - lifted my foot from the floor and put it in my mouth. I repeated myself, and essentially confessed to liking Dianne. The class went silent for a little while. And then Mr. Denstedt asked “So, is Thursday okay?” and the tension was broken. But, there was a brief second there when I didn’t know what had happened.

In other news, I saw Nicole on Thursday. While working at a meningitis, I kept wondering if she would pop in and get her meningitis shot, since she had been unable to get it at school. Three hours passed, and she didn’t show up. When I was ready to begin packing up shop, she walked in. She was the last customer of the day. I walked up to her with a big grin on my face - too big for the situation perhaps - and said “Hey Nicole!”. We exchanged idle pleasantries, and she got her meningitis shot. Frankly, I don’t think she recognized me. She never actually identified me by name. It’s a little disheartening…well…it’s monumentally disheartening.

Jordan out.

P.S. This entry was intended to be much larger, grander, and written better, but this damn piece of crap…crappiness deleted it. Goddamn.

–> Special Gift Inside

I had a post all typed up and then blogger preview deleted it.

It was full of the witty remarks and exciting stories you’d have come to expect from me. It was also a miraculous five part entry. Yet, Blogger deleted it because this program hates me.

- - - Insert Title Here - - -


Act One: The Chaplain

Juicy deliciousness. As an attendee of a Catholic Secondary School, we are forced to bend over and submit to the sexual perversions of our faith on a routine basis - especially if you have a Religion class in your current semester.

Now, for everyone who keeps up on the news, after two days enclosed within the Sistene Chapel, the College of Cardinals appointed a successor to John Paul II. Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger of Germany was proclaimed Pope Benedict XVI, and there was much rejoicing.

But not everywhere.

Turns out Benedict Arnold here is what can be described as an “ultra-conservative”, and he is strongly against abortion, cloning, homosexual marriages, fair representation of women in the church, and all that wholesome stuff we were beginning to see around the bend. In essence, while John Paul II revitalized the faith, Mr. Eggs Benedict is intent on skewering it.

The Chaplain at our school, a man by the name of Nathaneal, was hoping that the new Pope would be from Latin America. A logical aspiration. Latin America is showing the largest growths in Catholics when compared with anywhere else in the country, and since it is underdeveloped, the Pope would strive to help the poor. He’d have a larger cause. The problem would hit home.

So, our Chaplain was quoted in the paper saying that this election of a Pope was a poor choice. All of a sudden, all of the snooty ultra-conservative Catholic parents start phoning up the school complaining because our Chaplain is a free-thinking man who had an opinion and decided to fully use his right to voice it.

Oh my God! Someone call Satan. We’ve got a sinner on our hands.

Seriously, those parents need to grow up. Although the Catholic faith has traditionally been a culture based off of fear and the “monkey see, monkey do” mentality, this is a new age. Wait, what am I talking about? This new age has been around for a long while. In fact, I believe it began shortly after the Enlightenment - OVER FOUR DECADES AGO!

We’re not all mindless drones anymore. Now, all of a sudden, because one man had something to say and - God forbid - said it, he’s getting a lot of heat from the school board, the school administration and the parents.

If they try to reprimand him in any form of suspension from his job, or even permanent removal from working at the school board, I (and I’m sure many others) will organize a protest/mob riot until he gets his job back. Nathaneal is a damn good chaplain and if you want to take him away, then you’ll have an angry mob to deal with.

And I have a pretty sharp pitchfork!


Act Two: Think Geek

Once upon a midnight dreary, I sampled the sweet, delicate tastes of Think Geek. And it was so delicious. So succulent. So citrusy…that I had to go back for more. So, Binks is co-ordinating a widespread ordering of goods - a mass exodus from the warehouses of Think Geek - where all us pals are joining together in one voice and saying “We want stuff!”

Personally, I am purchasing two T-Shirts. The first is from Penny-Arcade. It is known as their Jesus is F’ing Metal T-Shirt. The other is a Gamer shirt. In fact, that’s what it says on it. Gamer.

In addition to these delightful pieces of fabric to cover my nudity, I will also be privy to a top secret robotic design known as CanDroid. He is a fully posable robot (it uses ball bearing joins, I believe, for full 360 rotation). It also has magnetic footpads (ideal for climbing things) and two spring-loaded “pincers” for picking up and holding objects. He can also eat things. Wicked cool. I am going to put him in my locker, to hold stuff, and threaten people with his drunken taunts.

It’s going to be good. But, it’s going to set me back $60+. It’s a bit of a drag, but a sacrifice I’m willing to make for a small timespan of material happiness.

If you want to check out their merchandise, the web address is in the sidebar. You know, —-> Over in that direction ———————————————————————–>


Act Three: A Big Time Reporter Man

Wait, no. Perhaps a title not suiting this act. As much as it would lead you to believe, this act has nothing to do with being a reporter, being in the big time, doing time, or Tom Tucker and other Family Guy characters.

The only association with report contained within this post is “REPORT CARD”!

They’re coming out soon, but the great thing is I’ve received all my marks. Well, I haven’t gotten religion. Perhaps I should rephrase my earlier sentence to make more sense logically to the reader.

I’ve received all of the marks I care about. Go to hell Religion Class.

Often times, I wish the portable would be washed away in some flood waters that come off the field behind our school. Then, as it sails along the overdramatized rapids, I can wave happily and say, “God bless Canada!”

But sadly, reality doesn’t cater to my desires. Until I gain control of the world’s population with my CanDroid, I am left with but one leg to stand on. Well, one leg and a peg leg. It’s not real though. It’s made of wood. A wooden peg, to be exact.

So, onto my marks. Here’s how it stands:

Religion: ??? Comment: ???

History: 93% Comment: My teacher has claimed to ‘love the way I phrase things’ and claims that I “have a unique gift for words and expression that far surpasses that of my peers”.

Discrete Math: 99.5% Comment: I’m finally beating Andrew! Kick ass. With every passing test and assignment, his marks grow lower and lower. Soon, I’ll be able to kick him face first into the dust. The part I love so much is that I don’t even do the homework. Look at that mark! And this is the hardest math course in the school. Whoopie!!! With every good mark I get, Travis becomes more suicidal. He’s a fool though. Killing me would solve more of his problems.

English: 93% Comment: My English teacher wants me to become a published writer. Right now, the highest I can climb on the literary ladder is this blog. Sad, but true. It is an impressive and random piece. My three readers (assuming Brian still comes here) are truly devoted. I should pay them.

Should. But I’m never open to changing my routine.

Now that that’s all behind us, I guess I have to study for a damn religion test. It’s okay. I’ve prepped myself with plenty of towels in case my eyes start bleeding. Granted, studying for religion isn’t nearly as bad as being subjected to eye rape at the lunch table. But hey, Amy’s gone for several weeks and the deviant crimes will be abolished. No more sinful lust at the lunch table. We can eat again.

But seriously, Amy is bad news. She’s Cleopatra to Andrew’s Julius Caesar. It will only be a matter of time before Markus Binklus goes a little mad and stabs him in the Senate. And, when Andrew dies, he’ll exclaim “Et tu Binks? Then die, Andrew!”

Oh, speaking of Binkle, his day in the life of a student video is done. When he posts it on his blog, I’ll be sure to provide a link…although…in reality, he’ll be the only one to see this link.

Until we meet again.

A Pair of Pants


Act One: Under cover of Darkness

I was playing Max Payne 2 today, hoping for some film noir-ish type inspiration for my books. For some reason, this second chapter is so hard to write because it really lacks in any imagery that I haven’t already stated. My first chapter was very powerful (I enjoy reading over it), but I just can’t get anything decent for my second chapter. It’s becoming increasingly difficult. I feel like I’ve lost the ability to form any decent piece of writing.

So, to toy around with writing from a different angle, I wrote a “final chapter” for Under cover of Darkness - the story which contains Andrew, Amy, Shortman (Cory) and Binkle’s character (who I didn’t actually use in this chapter). Andrew’s character is an undercover cop, infiltrating the underbelly of the mob in the City (I use ‘City’ as the name because I don’t care to be specific). Andrew’s mob nickname is ‘Gunman’. He trolls around with two other guys, “Muscle” and “Shortman”. They are his mob cohorts. Anyway, the chapter begins with Andrew driving to the outskirts of the city with Muscle and Shortman to kill Amy. Problem is, throughout the entire story, he has had a relationship going on with Amy. The only reason he is going to kill her is because Ricky (loosely based off Travis, and I’m considering a name change), a gang underlord was murdered by her near the end of the story.

So, they go out to kill her, and Shortman is in the back touching her in various places because he’s a sick bastard. But anyway, they go out there. Various things happen. I’ve planned it out, I just can’t form it to words. Even now, as I’m typing this, I keep screwing up typing words. When I first wrote the previous sentence, it was “I’ve planed it uot, I just can’t from the wrods.”

There’s some sort of loose connection between my brain and my hands.


Act Two: YOWZA!!!

Today, as a result of my history class, I was at the University of Western Ontario, hanging out in the D.B. Weldon Library. Overall, the experience wasn’t very exciting. I spent the day hanging out with Fraser and Shortman (I’ve started calling Cory that in real life, for the sake of syncing up with my story).

One thing that was interesting was university life. They all seemed so laid back. And the girls there. This is why the title is…as it is. Honestly, they were the most scantily clad individuals I have ever seen. If you combined the shorts on all the girls I saw at UWO, there wouldn’t have been enough fabric in all of them to make me a pair of pants.

There are hot pants…and then there are hot pants…

And then there are no pants, which is what I saw.

Freakin A…or something to that effect.

Otherwise, it wasn’t very interesting. I didn’t tour campus. In fact, I hardly left the library except for lunch. And, aside from Fraser and Cory, I barely saw anyone from my class. In fact, I only posted this entire blog entry because Binkle insisted I do it. Not a whole lot of substance to it…my apologies…but it was a terribly boring day.


Act Three: Books

There seems to be a book theme to my post today. Well, I’m a fairly huge coward when it comes to social interaction. I’d never have the courage to ask a girl out. I can’t ask people for directions. I can’t talk to people about anything. I can’t even talk to my teachers!

But today, I made a mysterious and alluring breakthrough in my social retardation. I typed up a resume and cover letter, popped it into an envelope, and dropped it off at Coles Bookstore. I need a job, and I want it at a place that I’ll enjoy working at. So, Coles was my first pick.

When I approached the guy at the counter, I choked and almost froze right there. He walked out to meet me, and it was bizarre. Anyway, I handed him the envelope and said, “Hey. I’m just hear to drop off my resume. I’m not sure if you’re hiring right now, although someone said you might be GULP so I figured I’d swing by and drop this off.”

I was nervous. It showed. I honestly don’t expect to get the job.

But, there you have it. A day in the life of me. Boring, n’est pas.

On a final note, I think we need to get Amy to watch Final Destination before she goes to France. I think the movie about a class going to France and the plane exploding will give incredibly dizzying hopes to a first-time flyer.

Click.