04/06/2005 - 1:02 p.m. | oh baby, burn!

lol - the Illini did not win! I dunno - I'm glad we were good and all, but frankly I think I would have been a little annoyed had we won. Any large show of solidarity starts to make me antsy. I mean, fine, you can release your Illini rap (and they have - "Nick Smith he be doin' it"), but we would have just turned obnoxious had we remained undaunted. Even Urbana people were coming out of their hovels decked in orange to assemble on the quad. That just isn't right. Most people seem to blame the refs, but it's hard not to find any unbiased person round these parts. Personally, I like to think Luther Head was paid $100,000 to miss all threes and toss the ball to the other team. And that he is getting the most expensive blowjob in the world right now. On a pile of money.

On the down side, the drunken rioting Smacko and I had hoped for was neither very drunken or riotous. The police were far too numerous and ever-present for any real trouble to start. They had two helicopters circling above us, for Christ's sake. On the plus side, on the walk over there, Smacko spotted an incognito cop car with a huge black guy inside. "A. COBB!" he yelled, and the officer stuck out his window and waved. So that was pretty awesome. We gathered in the sea of orange with the others, (pretty much the best inspiration I've ever seen for how the eventual zombie invasion is going to be), and most of the evening was then spent either speculating on how we could incite pandemonium or trying to find where A. Cobb was hanging out. Basically opposite ends of the spectrum. We threw some matches on the ground and contemplated punching this one fag in the head, but it wasn't nearly enough to get things started. Smacko physically had a large brick in his hand at one point, but then we approached an area with about 7 cops, so he was forced to discard. Clearly, we should have come out wasted, as it would have greatly increased our chances of coming out beaten (or laid). Here's a hint: There's only a limited number of times "I-L-L" can be hit back with "I-N-I" before you want to slash your eyes out. It really wasn't that clever to begin with, although props for the drunkard who was screaming "I-L-I" to no one in particular. After maybe an hour or two, we made our way back home to try and fashion some primitive Molotov cocktails with household supplies. Unfortunately, we never did get a bottle to actually smash, and the most destruction we achieved was Spritz lighting his leg on fire for a moment. Then we all pissed on the pile of shit and threw bricks at it.

Severe aftermath: The next morning, all the ribbons on my car were removed, save one. Turnabout is fair play, however, and it's not like I could report it to the cops or anything. Don't you worry, though. We'll get more. Oh yes. We'll get more.

Here's something I never would have conceived of: There is actually a red-haired person I am ... sort of... not... unattracted to. Granted, she's strawberry blonde with lots of blonde highlights, but Christ. This is like Edward Norton in American History X, all makin' friends with his black laundry room friend guy. "Put your mouth on the curb." And they say I don't grow as a person.

Some days I feel like I'm a character in a book or a song. Not a particularly interesting book or song, mind you, but it's still better to be in a book or a song than to just be some person. You start to lack accountability. You might be an asshole or a sinner or viral as all hell, but what can you do about it? That's just the way you were written. Your flaws had to be interesting, or no one would care. It's the ultimate rationale; no one expects you to change the things you do because they're set in stone. Everytime you read the story or listen to the song, things are going to work out in the same way. You might hope they don't, but the character is still going to follow his misguided perceptions, and things will just always go to the same place. Hm. It's nice not to have to worry about such "wasted potential" because there are just so many pretty girls out there.