Monday, January 31, 2005

We're just ordinary people/We don't know which way to go, yeah/'Cause we're just ordinary people/Maybe we should take it slow

Some weekend's just seriously can't even be measured. I've had one of those weekends. The things I have seen and done this weekend will very likely be indelibly printed into my mind. I really can't even type too much out. But man I gotta headache. And I'm tired. So this isn't going to be too impressive.

But this weekend, as I struggled to draw a face, I realized that first, I can't draw to save my life. Seriously. I also realized secondly, that beauty is very much symmetrical. I think I've touched on the thought of beauty tying into the fact that we as humans expect things that are beautiful, i.e. attractive, to be symmetrical. But I think its more than that. There's a lot more to beauty that say, symmetry. If that were the case, we'd fall in love with someone because they had pairs of what they should.

Case in point, I found a site where cheek augmentation is discussed, and of course with pictures. When I say "cheek augmentation", I mean synthetics or biologicals to augment, or make the malar and submalar structure of the face more prominent. According the site I read, this can give balance to an otherwise less defined face or further augment an already existent cheek structure. Yeah, I copied and pasted that. So what?

But when flipping through the photos, you'll see that just cheek augmentation does nothing. It takes a lot of cutting and snipping to get anything noticeable. So why do plastic surgery? To turn back time perhaps? Who knows.

Thursday, January 27, 2005

Thursday. Never have I been more lacking in words than right now. I've literally got nothing to say. And you know what that means right? That's right. Quizzes.

How Your Attitude Ranks

Your Attitude is Better than 50% of the Population

If you scored...

80-100: You've got a winner attitude. You're always optimistic and cheery. Your personality will get you far in life.

60-79: You have a good attitude. While a realist, you do see the positive side of most things. People love to be around you.

40 - 59: You have a positive attitude... somtimes. You prefer to see the world through clear glasses, not rose colored ones.

20 - 39: You have an average attitude. You take the good and bad in life as they come. Though sometimes you could use a little more good.

0-19: You have a negative attitude. You tend to see the dark side of every situation. Free ice cream? No thanks, it will just make you fat!

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

The pain. My left hand feels like I've been stomping on the tips of my fingers in cleats. But somehow, I will persevere and I will learn to play this guitar of mine. Because I want to learn how to play. And not just sit around trying to make up my own songs. I used to dislike people who played covers and other people's songs because I remember thinking, "oh that's real creative." Man was I ever wrong. The stuff people do on a guitar is amazing, and learning just to play those few things not only hurts, but its hard. Very hard. I've got a new found respect for those people who don't sit around writing and composing their own music. Wait did I just say that?

So I've been telling stories, which I believe I called indemnifying. Incriminating. In case you missed, my purpose in telling these stories all lies in trying to get these out so no one will be able to have any ammunition against me in a war of secrets.

This story focuses around "Signore". He is without a doubt, what I want to be when I grow up. I first met him, what seems like two (maybe three, maybe more) years ago, and being the insecure lad that I was (and maybe still am) I talked to him for twenty minutes, and assumed that he hated me like everyone else. Like I said, insecure. I do remember thinking, wow, he's way too cool to be friends with me, let me go hang out with that nerd in the corner. So away I went. Time progresses, its a year, maybe two later, and I run into Signore again. I'm older now, I think I'm in my "Everyone will be my friend, like it or not" phase or what not, and I recall walking away from that conversation thinking: "He's cool. He's my friend now." But I can't gush enough about how top-grade Signor is. He'll probably read this and within the first use of the word Signore guess that this is about him. He's that kind of fellow.

Like I said, he's a real stand up guy. But what we don't realize about Signore is that he holds a deep secret. A dark secret. Signore is a ninja. And not just any type of ninja. Signore is a terry-cloth wielding assassin. I think that last sentence alone should be the entire story. I wish it was. But no, its not.

I am under the belief that Signore could kill a grown man with a towel, without ever strangling the grown man. The things that man does with wet terry cloth should be illegal, and probably is in three or four states. "But Javann, how do you know this?" you may be asking. Well, because I have felt his terry cloth wrath more times than I care to admit.

Like many of the things that has happened to me, this one is a bit blurry. Things in my life tend to repeat themselves. Which means what I remember may have happened but not on that particular night. Which makes it hard to unblurrify (yes that is a word, or at least it should be) my memory. Either way, here's what I remember, feel free to correct me.

We were all at "RocketBoy"'s swanky bachelor pad, inducting a few members into the society of Booga Booga Boo. If you've not been inducted, send me an email and we'll see what we can do about induction. The benefits of being in the society are killer. Seriously. The induction was going down in RocketBoy's bedroom, and the rest of the party (already card carrying members) were out in the living room, doing who knows what. I was in the back room, can't remember what the heck I doing, I think laughing and talking, since that seems to be what I do, when I see Signore get up and head out front to "see what all the commotion was about." I hear a bit of silence and then I hear even more commotion. I walk around the corner and I see Signore snapping victims with TWO towels. I don't mean they were intertwined to make one terrycloth of doom, or that he would snap one and then use the other as he wound one, I mean he had both towels going at the same time. I'd say similar to a machine gun. Signore is a ninja.

A literal call to towels went out and we rushed about RocketBoy's house scrambling for towels. The participants? "Metro", "Biggun", "Youngun", "Jughead", "LadiesMan", and of course, myself. RocketBoy doesn't really have a lot of dish towels or hand towels, I mean he's a bachelor. You get all that stuff when you get married. Pretty much all the good towels were gone, and I ended up with a full size bath towel. "Great. I'm just basically cannon fodder," I thought to myself while I juiced that behemoth towel up. Little did I know. Big towel = big hurt.

Soon a showdown of terry cloth emerged in the living room. Signore had frightened everyone with his ninja skills, and we all kept an eye on him and on each other. Metro and Youngun started to team up on him, but Metro betrayed Youngun. And that's when the terry cloth started flying. The funny thing to me, by the way, is that there were spectators, huddled in one corner, yelling, laughing and applauding. In retrospect, had it not been for the spectators, I might have walked away after awhile. But being the gloryfiend I am, I went full in.

So I wind up my towel, and I unleash. First hit goes completely limp. There's not enough water on my towel. I pay for it with my stomach and chest. I run back into the kitchen and wet the towel down for all I'm worth. And I come back out and I unleash on the closest person to Signore.

The snap from this towel was deafening. It literally sounded like a gunshot. I saw my victim crumple in pain. I remember thinking, "holy crap, that was a good one." I'd still not realized what I held in my hands. Didn't have time to think about it. Biggun snuck up behind me and snapped me in my back. Without really thinking, I unleashed my monstrosity of a towel again. And again, I heard a gunshot. Biggun tried to clear the towel, but he couldn't escape its grasps. I hear him gasp as it hit him. I then see Biggun turn around and come after me. I step back trying to wind the Fenway Park (the Green Monster. . .get it?)towel as quickly as I can when suddenly, Signore jumps in front of me and begins ninja toweling Biggun. Its amazing to see. His two toweled fighting technique is ferociously effective and Biggun is forced to retreat under the onslaught. I stumbled away in awe, and maybe a bit of pain from Biggun's hit when I see Jughead attempting to catch Signore unawares. Of course, I can't let that happen, Signore had just jumped in for me, and was still meteing out punishment upon Biggun, so I stepped up and out came the towel. It hit and a mist arose from the impact point.

The water on the towel rose and I saw Jughead fall. At about that point, there was a standstill and the spectators were chanting my name. Ah yes, thank you largest of towels. Then someone came up with the idea of a tournament of terry cloth, a championship of chamois, if you will. And that's when things got bad, for me at least. First round for me? Signore.

The rules were five hits a piece. If your opponent quit, you won. If both were left standing the crowd judged. First round, me versus Signore. I went first. Only about three of my hits really connected, but when they connected, I might as well have shot off a gun. I'm sure none of them really connected (because at other times I've drawn blood on the good connections) but the spectators were loving it. Signore managed to actually make contact with me, but it wasn't as impressive so he lost by way of judgement. If you'd felt my side, then you'd know that he was the true winner. But I was the champion. Second round, Metro.

You have to understand. Metro is a cool guy, and I consider him my friend. The one thing we truly have in common is we are competitive. Very competitive. Whenever we meet each other and we are at odds, I sincerely can say I hate him. I think it wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that he feels the same way. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to kill him, hurt him, or maim him, but I do want to beat him. In the worse way. So imagine my fierceness on realizing he was the next to feel the wrath of my towel. Honestly, I think it was that fierceness which led to my poor towelling. And yet that same fierceness is what let me take the hits from him. Because let me tell you, he drew blood that night. I still have a scar on my back from that. And that was using a dish towel. On the same spot. Three times. As you can tell from this story, Metro won.

Then there was another challenge. LadiesMan challenged Signore to a showdown. This, of course, was much later. I won't go into details, but I'll quote LadiesMan. "Thanks, Signore, now, because of you, I'll be crapping blood for a week." Excellent stuff.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Wanna know me? Read below.

ENFP - "Journalist". Uncanny sense of the motivations of others. Life is an exciting drama. 8.1% of total population.
Take Free Jung Personality Test
personality tests by

Here's where it gets weird. I'm not a natural leader anymore. I'm now a helpful person. Apparently, my helpfulness has won out at last. I think it was just a question or two I didn't answer correctly. Human error. It makes you helpful.

Enneagram Test Results
Type 1 Perfectionism |||||||||||| 43%
Type 2 Helpfulness |||||||||||||||||||| 83%
Type 3 Image Awareness |||||||||||||||| 66%
Type 4 Sensitivity |||||||||||| 43%
Type 5 Detachment |||||||||||||| 56%
Type 6 Anxiety |||||||||| 36%
Type 7 Adventurousness |||||||||||||||||| 80%
Type 8 Aggressiveness |||||||||||||||||| 80%
Type 9 Calmness |||||||||||||||||| 73%
Your main type is 2
Your variant is sexual
Take Free Enneagram Personality Test
personality tests by

And if you want to know more about the ENFP type, well here ya go:

Portrait of the ENFP
ENFP: The Visionary

So there you go. You know me now. Right?

Thursday, January 20, 2005

clouds are forming faces/and they laugh at me/strange desires/under friendly fire/but it's alright it still feels nice/it's taking me away/i'm seeking shelter from the pain/i'm holding on again/holding on again/seeking shelter from the pain

Yep. Not much to say here. Why? For starters its Friday morning. Like 1:30 in the morning and I've got to be up at about 6:00. Foolish? Yes. Worthwhile? Not really. Why? Because of my nap today. It was a good nap, don't get me wrong, but its responsible for my not being able to sleep right now. That and those three salmon burgers I ate. Oh you read that right. Salmon burgers. Fortunately, its not ground salmon. Even I couldn't stomach that from a purely aesthetic view point.

I mean, one of the best things about salmon is the texture. One of the best things about fish period is actually its texture. So to completely take that and murder it in the name of a burger, well, that's just silly. Overall though, it was quite good. Of course you should remember, I'm a bear. And as a bear, I like fish. And the fresher the fish, the more I like it. So if you're a bear, go after it. If not, well then you're not so don't bother.

Taking Me Away - The Tea Party

My mood?

No, no high fives, just respeck knuckles!
So the running theme is Javann tells stories that make him seem to be a bad person, or at least give some type of enjoyment to the people who come to this site. So what should I tell now?

So here's a story.

I'd set this up, but its much easier to just go into the long and short of it. Here's the scene: my car's in a field, its dark, I can't see my hand in front of my face, and my driver's side front tire is busted. There is no cell phone, and civilization might as well not exist, because I can't see it. Maybe because it was dark? Who knows? The truth of the matter is that I was in a bad fix. Did I mention its 11:00 or so? No? I just did. But I'm Javann. Javann Jones. Man of action and adventure, and this tire has no power to stop me from driving my car. So my first inclination is to get out of the field. I crank my car and it starts and away I go! Right into the curb. And I'm stuck. Then it hits me, to pop a curb you need air in your tires. And my driver's side tire just barely failes to meet that requirement. That's what four years of collegiate education will do for you. As I literally wished death upon myself for my stupidity, I decided I might as well break out the jack and lug wrench and try to make the most of my predicament.

That's when I notice, its cold. Not a problem. I have a jacket. A leather jacket. I'd hate to get that jacket ripped, and my shirt too, so I pull both off and continue in my T-shirt. Sure its cold, but this experience will only be worse if I damage my jacket, or my shirt. At least that's my thought at the moment. I can't even wear that stupid shirt anymore. As I fish around my trunk, throwing books and notebooks aside, I come to a horrid realization. I don't have a lug wrench. I threw my jack aside and dove into my trunk with full fledged passion, because my lug wrench HAS to be in that trunk. This night can not get worse, because if it does, I may have to kill small animals for food. And we all know that won't go over too big with PETA. And I'm all about making PETA happy. Still no lugwrench. I look down the road and I see exactly what I see behind me. Road. Great. I grab my jacket, lock my doors and I start walking.

As I walk, I wonder which is more likely to happen. Me going into someone's house at 11:30 at night, or me getting a lug wrench from someone. One is asking to come inside someone's domicile as a potential robber, the other is me asking for a blunt instrument to beat them down as a lazy mugger or murderer. I go with the lug wrench because if I decide to keep it, its only theft, as opposed to getting shot for attempting theft. I see houses. I start knocking.

The first house, the second house, and the third there was no response. The fourth house had a window next to the door. And there she was. The lady of the house sitting at the ill-placed computer playing solitaire. Her addiction to playing cards solo was her undoing, because as soon as I knocked, I saw her look dead at me. Oh that's right, I'm huge, black, and at your door, and I KNOW you're here. You can't just shrug it off and hope I leave. We just saw each other, you have to deal with me. She comes to the door as if I were a ravenous wolf, and she was a sheep whose sole protection lay in keeping the door as in between me and her as possible.

"Uh, do you want something?" No, I always walk up to people's doors at eleven at night for no reason. Do I look that dumb? No wait, do you look that dumb? Actually yes. Yes you do.

"I had a bit of car problem, and I'm in need of a lug wrench. Do you have one I can borrow?" Note I said BORROW.

She goes and gets her husband who comes downstairs in his robe. With his hand in his pocket. Oddly enough, he never took his hand out of that pocket. Think he had a gun? I did. That's why I moved as slowly as possible. Sudden movement might have gotten me shot. You'd think that was my only close contact with a gun that night, right?

Wrong. I get back to my car with the loaned lug wrench in hand and start jacking my car up. Do me a favor. Go to your car. Look at your jack. Notice that long screw? Imagine turning that thing till the jack was raised more than three inches of the ground. Now you understand my pain.

My pain didn't last long, since a cop pulled up to serve and protect. At least to protect. And by protect, I mean himself because the first thing he did was pull his gun. Excellent. I'm going to get shot for wielding a dangerous. . .lug wrench. Well, not tonight because I dropped it.

The next bit is pretty self explanatory. This is getting long, so I'll wrap it up. First I had to kneel on the pavement with my hands behind my back. Then I got cuffed. Spent thirty minutes in the back of the cop car. Which by the way, isn't designed to hold someone comfortably. I guess if you're a perp, you should be comfortable, but it'd be nice if I'd not been in a plastic chinese body trap. There was also country music. Thirty minutes of it. My body was in discomfort and my ears were in worse shape. I hate this state.

Turns out I scared somebody, pretty badly. And they called the cops. The rest is pretty much history. I made it home. I got lectured for being irresponsible. I went to bed thinking how much that night would forever be the worse night of my life. Thus far its held its place in my memory as the worse night of my life. I'm sure somewhere there's something out there hoping to dethrone it.

My mood

Respeck Knuckles.

Oh yeah, as far as an mp3 goes, I'm waiting till my The Sea And Cake album comes in before I throw out mp3s.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

I've got a few things to take care of. So here's a useless quiz. As if we didn't already know how scary I am.

You Are Not Scary

Not Scary!

Everyone loves you. Isn't that sweet?

Monday, January 17, 2005

Over the years, I've done lots of things that could be considered idemnifying. I mean things which if told, could completely and totally be considered character assassination. Seriously. So here's my plan. I'll will tell what I did here, and quite likely these things will lower the public opinion of me and then I'll no longer be subject to possible character assassination. So here we go.

This story makes me seem like a bad person, and as such, I shall tell it. To avoid incriminating my "friends" (really my accomplices), I'll use fake names.

During the 2003 district convention, I was an attendant. Its was the first time I'd been an attendant, and I was taking it very seriously. I helped quite a few handicatpped people out, I brought a flashlight with me every day, and I completely missed the majority of the program. That seems to be the running theme whenever I'm an attendant, because I end up working through the convention. The weirdest thing, or maybe the coolest, is that whenever the doors opened each day, the people would come running in, as if, as I joked one morning, Jesus had announced his appearance and promised free "I Saw Jesus. . .And All I Got Was This Lousy Healing" T-shirts to the first ten people to find him. Like I said, this is incriminating stuff.

There was this one lady in particular, who came up every morning with a walker, about the same time as the early morning workers got there. She would always ask for a chair, since her handicap kept her from standing for two hours. However, as soon as we opened the doors to let her in, she picked her walker up and ran, yes ran. I should precursor this by saying, this wasn't a small sister. She was lineman size. If she'd fallen, we'd need heavy machinery to lift her. But she would grab her walker and RUN inside, so she could get her seats. I remember her telling this one young sister, "Get behind me and keep up, because I always get my seats!"

Anyway, the convention draws to a close and I run into my good friend, "RocketBoy". RocketBoy is a bit, um. . .lets say eccentric, and he starts telling me about this plan to go to "TheOtherVille", to go and wreak havoc on somebody else's lives mind you in revenge. The victims where going to be "Bamboo" and "Catcher". Apparently, Bamboo and Catcher had come to RocketBoy's house while he was out of town, (which happens pretty frequently, he doesn't spend a lot of time here in Huntsville) and they, with the help of "JugHead", trashed his house. They took RocketBoy's socks put them in the toilet and taped them in with duct tape and his shower curtain. Ties were on top of a highly unreachable fan, and well, they basically did a number on his house. It took him a while to clean it, and the whole time, Rocketboy planned his revenge.

After hearing that much of the story, I decided I wanted to be down with this revenge. My reason? I went to visit their congregation and they didn't talk to me. So now, I despise everything they stand for. And I'm willing to exact revenge on them for no better reason than that. Told you that this would make me seem like a bad person. Also in for the revenge was my good friends, "Juice" and "Cheesecake". So having helped clean up a bit, we took off.

Juice and RocketBoy had extra clothes with them, since they had technically planned ahead, and I'm not sure what Cheesecake's excuse was, but anyway, when I get in the car, there's an old briefcase and a ton of newspaper in the back seat, and Cheesecake and I start spelling out a ransom note inside the briefcase. To keep other people from being indemnified (unless they want to incriminate themselves) I won't go into too many details. But the briefcase had pictures of people in the newspaper in it, and we had letters taped inside, it was a work of art, and Cheesecake deserves full credit for that.

We stopped somewhere to grab food and after RocketBoy's car didn't start, (good job Chevy!) and we talked to tech support in Canada and in these here United States, we decided that Canada was cooler than the U.S., (an ongoing theme) and we finally got the car started and headed to ThatOtherVille. We get there after two hours of driving, and we start at the house. First we have to get in. I begin trying to work the credit card option, and RocketBoy goes around the side of the house with Juice. They get in through an open window. I destroy every card in my wallet except for my license. Thank God I didn't bring my major credit card. Either way, we get in. And that's when the badness starts.

I start off by just walking around the house and checking out the various rooms, and I am insanely impressed with Catcher and Bamboo's living quarters. They have really cool, well decorated, well kept rooms. Then I begin to feel bad. Because here I was, to destroy all that they stood for, and why? Because they didn't speak to me? To try to quell my raging conscience, I begin to remove lightbulbs from all the lights. Rocketboy disappeared outside, and Juice begin rifling through their drawers. Cheesecake was walking around, making many hilarious jokes, and rifling through their bathroom. After I got all the lightbulbs, I began playing with their clocks, setting them to wrong times, completely wrong random times,when I noticed their teddy bears. They were pretty cute. Somehow, they found their way to the oven, and then inside the oven. It wasn't me, I swear. I walk back out front after fooling with their clocks, and I see Juice with a handful of panties and a maniacal look on his face. He gets a bowl of water and is stuffing the panties into the water. That's right, its headed to the freezer. Oh, they're going to want to kill us for this. And they really don't deserve it. . .my conscience starts plaguing me again. They're just sweet, Christian, pioneer sisters, and we're trashing their house. We're terrible people. I said as much to RocketBoy when he came back in with a branch from the outside tree. As he set it up to look like a Christmas tree, he explained to me that they trashed his house.

Interestingly enough, up until that point, I'd converted Cheesecake to my side, but when RocketBoy reminded us of his house, I was alone in my morality, and so I continued helping trash the house. RocketBoy told us to hurry up and grab one of all their shoes, as he and Juice begin rifling through their closet and loading up boxes with their clothes. I can't rememeber, and honestly I didn't realize until later, what all we took, but it was sorted into tops and bottoms. Something got left behind, I don't remember what. We took some with us, and also one of every shoe, as well as all the lightbulbs. The rest we taped closed, and then taped it to the floor, and put tape over the doorways (that was all my doing. Curse the fool who gave me the tape). But where was Cheesecake during all of this? I walked around looking for him, and then I saw the bathroom.

Oh my lord. The house had this really really really nice tile countertop in the bathroom. The tile from the floor had been carried up to the sink, and considering that it wasn't just Formica like it normally is, this was hilariously scary. Cheesecake had taken muscle cream and put a dot square in the center of every tile. Amazing. I then here RocketBoy command Juice, and Juice comes around the corner with a huge knife. Had I been drinking, I'dve been worried. But Juice attacks the shower curtain, and he massacres the said shower curtain with his knife. Things got weird then.

We started loading the car, and RocketBoy sees a car coming up the road. Its getting dark at this point, and when we see the car, RocketBoy says, "I think that's the cops." I haven't had good experiences with cops (that story is forthcoming) and so I run back into the house, literally saying, "Get down, get down, if you don't we could all go to jail!" See what a guilty conscience and a horrible experience with several cops can do for and to you?

RocketBoy asks for my flashlight, can't remember why, but we finished loading up and we leave. The house is completely tricked, and there was even Christmas lights on a car parked out front. I won't recount all of the things done, but only because, well, because I don't want to brag about such a thing. So as we are driving off, laughing smugly, I suddenly remember: my flashlight!

"Where's my flashlight?" Last time seeing, I remember, it was on the table. Guess what. . .it still is. Back at the house. Its a casualty. Thanks RocketBoy. I wouldn't mention this normally, but you see, my flashlight has my name on it. And its obviously my name. I got an email later with a picture of it in Bamboo's grasp with a promise of its return if I gave away addresses of all responsible. Of course, I didn't. But I do miss that flashlight. It was my first purchase with money that I'd worked for. But that's not all. The rest of my criminal associates made fun of me the entire night for forgetting the flashlight, and for being a little sniveling whiny boy. Fine. I've got a conscience, maybe I shouldn't have come.

So we stop for pizza, and after eating the worse pizza ever we took pictures of us in various victorious poses. Why you say? Because inside the ransom briefcase (which I forgot to lock, which defeated the initial plan of them having to guess what the last two numbers of the combination were) was, of course in newspaper type, an address to a website. Which we made. Which had pictures of our exploits inside their house. Yeah. We're bad people. Did I forget to mention, we took pictures with their camera as well, which whenever they develop the film, will forever remind them of the fact we trashed their house.

My victorious pose?

Should I feel bad for what I did? Now, several years later, I really don't feel so bad, but back then, I was torn apart during the whole thing. Did I ever see my flashlight again? Like you have to ask.

Thursday, January 13, 2005

The other day someone asked me if I'd written anything lately. And it hit me. I've not even had the urge to write anything. The reason I find this somewhat ironic is because I write for release, I write when I'm so happy I can't contain it, or I'm so down I can't contain it. I've not been either. If I had to color my mood, I'd go for a nice neutral brown. Sadly enough, the obvious joke will go unsaid. That having been said, its time I wrote, something, anything, just to say I've been writing.

Oceans crash in her eyes,
When I look through, I die,
And if I believe in her, if I put her beyond my dreams,
We could have a life bursting at the seams,
live far beyond our means.
Eat soup from kitchens and not cans,
Forever has never been part of my plans.
But now I suppose you want nothing less,
So maybe we'll move, actually, lets.
Lets move far away from this place,
to where you're the only pretty face.
And where I'm the only one who makes you sigh.
I'll go to work every morning waving goodbye.
There'll be a grocery store
with packages of happiness and contentment,
who could ask for more?
The mechanic's shop will not exist,
because our cars will fail and we won't care,
we'll walk two blocks to get to everywhere,
and three to get the kids from school.
The freezer will keep things hot,
the stove will make things cool,
The world will reverse just for us,
And when everyone wants to know what's the fuss,
maybe we'll just fade away again.

My mood?

Hmm. . . feels a bit forced doesn't it?

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Strangers in the night/playing in the shadows/just you and me/till the morning light

A dubloon to the man (or woman) who recognizes the artist of above lyrics, and also the title of the song. And I believe it goes without saying, that there shall be no googling.

I went running for the first time last night, in a long while. The night was pretty beautiful, the rain had just stopped, the air was cool, and my lungs and heart were begging me to stop and reconsider my rash decision. But I plugged on with an insane amount of determination, completed a mile and then I started home. As I was on the way home, I saw this older couple walking the other track. I waved to them and they said hello, and then I realized I was waving with the hand that carried my metal pole of protection. So then I dropped said hand, and said pole, and I think I scared them. They got a good workout as they scurried away from me. Fun for everyone. Once again, I'm rambling, so here's a quiz I took. I'm surprised actually.

You Are 24 Years Old


Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe.

13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.

20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences.

30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!

40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

Great. I've managed to advance 2 years. Ah well.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Just a good ol boy/doing the best he knows how/which always just a little bit more than the law will allow

Man, I'm tired. And the sad part about all of that is uh. . .well its uh. . .hmmm. . .there's nothing really all that sad about being tired. Sorry for the lack of the Monday post, but I really didn't get any sleep Monday night, I can't remember what my excuse is/was but I do remember I had one, and it was good.

Ever notice how some people have catch phrases? Not like actors or characters from sitcoms but real life regular people. For instance, I know someone who says really a lot. I mean a lot. Also, someone who says in here a lot. Of course, I believe the acceptable term for this would be word whiskers, which are words or phrases we use to fill in the gaps while our minds scramble for the next utterance. I think mine is well, and actually. I say actually a lot, in fact, if you spend enough time talking to me, you'll probably get sick of hearing actually. Sometimes that translates over to my writing, especially when I'm going off the top of my head, and I don't bother to grammar check it. Though, actually, I never really bother to grammar check or spell check anything I write. Kind of a. . .pride thing, maybe? Anyway, I've rambled enough, so here's the song of the day.

According to my father, and he is the expert on old songs =), this was a song written by the lead singer to his girlfriend, asking her to be his wife. You've heard this song on a few commercials if you live here in the states. So here it is:
Strawberry Letter - Brothers Johnson

My mood?

Actually. . .

Saturday, January 08, 2005

Hey, its a Saturday, and I feel like posting. Actually, I found this quiz and I figured I'd share. Here ya go!

You Are a Beagle Puppy

Cheerful, energetic, and happy go lucky.
And your sense of smell is absolutely amazing!

Thursday, January 06, 2005

Ah Friday. And you know what? I'm tapped out on ideas. That's right. The grand Javann has tapped out. Sad it is. Very sad. So I figured I'd bring the personality tests back around. Why not, its been a while since a took one. And last time I was an eight.

Main Type
Overall Self
Take Free Enneagram Personality Test

Scale (|||||||%) results:
Enneagram Test Results
Type 1 Perfectionism |||||||||||| 46%
Type 2 Helpfulness |||||||||||| 50%
Type 3 Image Focus |||||||||||||| 56%
Type 4 Hypersensitivity |||||||||||||| 57%
Type 5 Detachment |||||||||||||| 54%
Type 6 Anxiety |||||||||||| 49%
Type 7 Adventurousness |||||||||||||||| 65%
Type 8 Aggressiveness |||||||||||||||||| 71%
Type 9 Calmness |||||||||||| 47%
Your main type is 8
Your variant is sexual
Take Free Enneagram Personality Test

And apparently I'm an eight again. So I've not changed. Yay. A natural born leader. Great. But on a plus note I'm pretty even across the board on all the types. Last time I had a high calmness and a high anxiety. Now I'm just aggressive. Anyway, that's that, so lets leave it at that.
Wow. My blogging update page took a small bit of forever in trying to load. Okay, so here's the deal. I don't have a lot of time. So the thoughts won't be deep, in fact they will be shallow, and the candies will be cheap, like that really nasty candy you get from the dollar store, well its not nasty, but its got this aftertaste that complete detracts from the overall quality and flavor of the candy. That's what we're talking about here. So my plan is to do something I've seen Jerm do over the years, and that's take something I've seen and then leave it for discussion. Of course, Jerm being the Disneyworld to my drug store, it works a lot better for him.

So here's the topic for discussion: The Nokia Medallion

I personally think that this is a good idea, and I would totally buy and rock one, but I'm sure there are more sensible people out there who would undoubtedly disagree with me and tell me they have a picture frame and a polaroid that would do the same thing, only cheaper. But this is like a locket, only its 300 bucks and I think, personally, that this is awesomeness in the tenth degree. The possibilities are uniquely endless (whoa I sound like Nokia) and I'd like to see more stuff like this, only in a more affordable price set and range. Anyway, spit intelligence.

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

I see you all empathize/because anything less would be uncivilized

So I've noticed that everyone else's blog has coolness and yet, for some unknown reason, mine is still lacking. It can't possibly be the color scheme, or the content, so I've decided its got to be the title. I mean, what's cool about candy? Other than being a confectionary, candy is not cool. And deep thoughts? That is so John Handy of the 80's and early 90's. I need something cool around here, and definitely am going to have to change the color of the blog. And maybe some pictures. . .well maybe the picture thing is going a bit too far. I think having a few hulk pictures here and there adds a certain je nois crouix to my blog (I've no idea what that means by the way) but I kind of like the "starter-I-don't-know-any-html-or-java-or-cscript-or-anything-cool-for-my-blog-look", which is ironically laughable because I am invincible in my knowledge of those things I just mentioned. Invincible. Really. I don't know, I think I like the "I'm-all-about-the-words-here-and-not-the-looks" thing I've got going a the moment, and besides, we all like split pea soup right? And what's better to remind us than our online collection of thoughts.

If you've not noticed, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and it's been on varied subjects. I'm not sure what's spurred on this sudden conquest of thought, actually yes I am sure, its the lack of jobs and the abundance of sleep. I've come to the conclusion that I am nothing short of genius. That's right, I said it, I'm a genius. Not just any run of the mill genius, but a conceited one as well. I mean if you were me, you'd be conceited too. I. . . am spelling conceited correctly. . .oh good good. As I was saying, the only reason that my genius doesn't shine through is because I work and I miss sleeping. That's right, I operate at 50% brain power on a regular basis. Why, I could have pondered the solutions to world hunger, disease, and bad hair days in half the time it takes the rest of the so called "intellects" to put their shoes on in the morning. And I'd still have time for tea and crumpets. But seriously, I have noticed that my sleep and work does kill my generally overactive mind. Sure I think of weird and absurd things, but in the long run. . .uh. . .wait a minute, I forgot my thought. Its already happening. Quickly, run, run and tell the. . .you know what, I've got to get some sleep. . .getting drowsy. . .what time is it again?

My mood?

Just as I was correcting Bernoulli's equation, the tiredness took over. . .
Then re-arrange and change things that's on your mind/Would you swallow like fine wine or peanut butter?/Would you holler that I'm live and ask another?/Or take no heat and run for cover

I have a theory. Well lets call it an hypothesis. My hypothesis is that no one calls attractive people stupid. Sure it sounds harsha and for some people it even sounds like its not even true, but in all actuallity, it is. As I illustrated to my mother, if you see an attractive person slamming his/her arm in the door, over and over again, you'd go over and help said person, making sure he/she understood why. If said person was ugly, you'd just point, laugh, and say "STUPID!" Its true. I know its true because I'm willing to admit that I'd do it. And I'm not that bad of a person. Attractive people get exceptions, its the rule. If you are a beautiful, or simply just an attractive, female, you will never get a speeding ticket because the cops are all males. They don't want to give some attractive young woman a ticket, because they're attractive. If you're a male or ugly, you've got tickets. Don't get me wrong, if you're a lady and you have a ticket, I'm not saying you're ugly. It may simply be that you didn't realize you had that type of power, or maybe you didn't want to use it, but to avoid the ticket, all you had to do was flirt and say you'd never do it again. Boom, no ticket. Doesn't work that way for guys, trust me. But attractive guys get extras when they go through lines for food or from waitresses or saleswomen. If you are attractive, you will get exceptions. Is it fair? No. But its the reason so many people are going under the knife to improve their looks. Because they want exceptions. They want to join the beautiful people in walking past ugly people and yelling stupid. That's the only explanation there can be.

Guest List - The Eels

My mood?

What do you mean I'm not beautiful?

Sunday, January 02, 2005

Its another day, another day, another day of suprises/and every day, every day, every day another sun arises

So its another year. Well zippity doo da. Forgive me for not being terribly happy, but this last year, this 2004 really didn't exactly measure up. This last year was all kinds of terrible, and you know what makes it worse? My sitting here whining about it. So I'll leave that to the whiners and complainers, and proceed with my second annual, YEAR IN REVIEW!!

Javann's Completely Awesome Year (Not Quite Completely Awesome, But okay)

1. What did you do in 2004 that you'd never done before?
Uh. . .saw Muse. Man that was pretty awesome. If you get the chance, you grab that chance and run with it

2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I have no resolve, much less during new years to do anything

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Uh. . .a sister in our congregation gave birth.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Fortunately no, I'd say no one I could remember, but I can't remember them dying, I couldn't have been that close to them.

5. What countries did you visit?
I visited!. . .uh. . .none

6. What would you like to have in 2005 that you lacked in 2004?
A better job. A consistent job that pays money and doesn't require me to be completely healthy to work

7. What date(s) from 2004 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Like I said, this year was pretty lame overall, there are no real dates "etched" into my mind from this year

8. What were your biggest achievements of the year?
A new job as crossing guard (yeah, I know, pathetic)

9. What was your biggest failure?
Heh heh heh, take your pick

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
a touch of sinus infection, and a few cuts and bruises

11. What were the best things you bought?
A radiator for my car, and some Camoflauge Chuck Taylors. . .man I like those shoes

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Hmmm. . .Skyler was extremely cool this year, as was Reggie. ReG was really cool this year, going with me a lot of places and putting up with a lot of things that I wouldn't even take from myself

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
No one appalled or depressed me. . .except for myself of course. Yay.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Car repair, Petrol, loan repayment

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Being in the drama, and the Muse concert. Other than that. . .

16. What song will always remind you of 2004?
Loser - Beck

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
(a) happier or sadder? Weird, I'm not really either, I'm kinda numb.
(b) thinner or fatter? definitely fatter
(c) richer or poorer? In theory richer, but in practice still broke

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Traveling and cool stuff. More cool stuff should've been done

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Working. I really wish I'd not worked as much. Then maybe I could've done more cool stuff

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
Somewhere dark quiet, and thankfully non-festive

22. Did you fall in love in 2004?
Hah! Thank God no!

23. How many one-night stands?
I've got this nice plastic rubber maid storage drawer set that I keep next to my bed, had a five inch television on it, so I guess you can call it a night stand. And it is a singular.

24. What was your favorite TV program?
This year it was all about Adult Swim. The Venture Bros. and Aquateen HungerForce
"And that's where babies come from."

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
My list of abhorrance is only comparable to my list of mistakes

26. What was the best book you read?
The best book I got my hands on this year was definitely Native Son. I've read it once, but reading it again was quite good

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
This year? Loveage, Cap'n Jazz, Cooper Temple Clause, McLusky, Detachment Kit, Franz Ferdinand, and maybe D.A. That's right. D.A. That man is a musical genius.

28. What did you want and get?
Friends, car parts

29. What did you want and not get?
I'm sticking with last years answer:

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
Its a tie between I, Robot, and the Incredibles. Both good movies for different reasons.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I uh, did nothing. Yeah, that's about right.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Learning more. About anything.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2004?
Man, I got really preppy this year. Button down shirts, jeans and stylish boots. Quite outside my norm, I assure you.

34. What kept you sane?
Who said I was sane?

35. Which celebrity figure did you fancy the most?
None really. Quite a few non-celebrity figures fancied.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
Spiritual blindness not being an issue.

37. Who did you miss?
I honestly can say, I miss the old Javann. The old Javann was hardcore. He was tough, and he didn't take anything from anybody. He did whatever was necessary to handle business, and personal hygiene was done when necessary. This new Javann, who uses body wash and Axe, who cleans and organizes, and feels bad when he doesn't, I don't like him. The old Javann didn't care about your feelings, but this new Javann, well he does for some reason. He knows he used to not care, but now he's too busy caring to not care. I guess that's a good thing, but the old Javann was a lot easier to be.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
I guess this goes to a tie to the Knoxville/Nashville family and hmm. . .can't remember anyone else. . .(heh heh heh)

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2003?
The only thing more humiliating than defeat is accepting it as your fate.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
You're a head case with a smile
Can't stop to make up your mind
Education is so lame (so lame)
When you whine and you moan
You're a good girl, I'm a guy (hey)
You're a truth freak with a lie
The situation is so strange
It's a tv show

In a hotel on the phone
You're gonna leave me, I should've known (should've known)
And I was thinkin, it's so sad
I didn't want you to go
You wanna follow the laws of man (yes, sir)
Bloody apron, leg of lamb
It's so hard to win
When there's so much to lose

Infiltrate the walls that are caving in
It ain't a bad thing
This ain't reality
Infiltrate the walls that are caving in
It ain't a bad thing
Because it is natural

Second Avenue, raising Cain
I'm a sinner, ring my bell (hey)
I'll tell you what, I'd get up
If I knew I fell

Don't ask for explanation. Well you can ask, I won't guarantee the answers. Anyway, thanks for the time, and spit the intelligence at me.