Mike's Journal O' Web

Hey everyone!

2008-09-09T20:23:58Z

Work is over! I am up out this piece!

More to come later.

yo

2007-01-28T03:13:48Z

I JUST LOVE ME SOME MAN COCK!!

have fun in jax...uh..me.

Outta here.

2006-05-11T07:22:07Z

I'll be going on vacation for the next few days. Should be back on or before the 20th. I'll be online every so often, but for the most part I'm just gonna get away from everything for a while. I shall see you guys when I get back. Laters all!

-Mike out.

Another old rant I found and graduation.

2006-05-03T08:45:44Z

In cleaning up some of the files on my computer, I seem to have stumbled upon an old rant I wrote after my first semester at MDC. I actually don't know how the hell I feel about it. I just keep saying to myself, "Did I actually write this?" I don't think it's particularly funny, nor insightful, and I have no fucking clue what made me write it, but I figure since I did, I'd put it on here for everyone. You guys be the judge, because honestly, I really have no fucking clue how I feel about this one. Here we go!

How should I start this off so that whatever I say is completely original? What’s something no fat, unattractive person has ever bitched about...? Ah! Talking to women! Like all people who underwent the vengeful wrath of God’s ugly stick in the womb, I have immense trouble talking to women. I’m not going to say it isn’t insecurity, because I’d be a lying bastard if I did, but I think it has more to do with how much I let my mind wander in situations where I would want to talk to a woman. I could be waiting at the bus stop, not a damn thing going through my head but the lyrics to the Mary Tyler Moore show, when a girl walks up and sits down at the bus stop. She doesn’t even have to be that attractive. She’s there, and I’m lonely. It’s like a divine collaboration. I start thinking of a future with my newfound potential wife, and what our kids will look like, and about our house in the middle of nowhere away from modern society and the evils of things like movies and the Internet (for the record, I hate those uppity fucking Luddites). By that time I’ve missed the bus. Here’s another example. True story. One day I’m at school and I get on the elevator with this cute, pretty lookin’ girl. Once again, Mary Tyler Moore show theme song gets put on hold and my mind starts to visualize my life as future husband and protector of this girl whom I have no fucking clue about except for the fact that she pushed the button for the second floor. Normally, I’d have clammed the hell up, waited for her to stop at her floor, and simply watched as she walked out of the elevator, never to be seen by me again. This time, though, I run with it. My mind races for whatever dashing, charming, or otherwise sexy-as-all-hell things to tell this girl. I imagine whatever words my mind gives me to woo this girl drifting through the air, dripping with raw sex and hanging there like noxious fumes of passion. By the time they hit her ears, my words instantaneously materialize into a white stallion before her, which I use to sweep this now-intoxicated young soul off her feet and into my arms. With that, we leave this world behind and ride off into a blazing sunset, her forever mine to love, hold, and cherish till the end of time. Instead, however, I choose these words:

Me: Floor 2, huh?
Her: Yeah…
*awkward silence*
Me: I’m sorry…

It’s a sad state of affairs when I have to apologize for trying to spark conversation with a woman, let alone anyone.

Also, I have graduated Miami-Dade College. I now have an AA in English Literature and Education. Go me!

-Mike out.

Christ almighty, it's late

2006-03-13T10:10:56Z

Earlier today (or yesterday, considering It's been Monday for five hours now) I was shooting pool by myself. It was a particularly lonesome experience, but it led to something of an inspiration for me to write, which is something I haven't done in a long time. So I wrote a story about someone shooting pool alone every day, why they would do it, and what the eventual outcome would be. It's just a story, and in no way an accurate reflection of my own life. It's just the idea of taking that lonely feeling you get when you play pool on your own to a whole new extreme, which I think I explored fairly well.

I would love some feedback on this one. It's one of the only stories I've actually been able to sit down and write from beginning to end, and it's the first thing I've written in months. I'm pretty proud of it, but I know it could be better. Anyways, here it is.

The Pool Hall
By Mike Papadopoulos

I spend a lot of time at the pool hall. In fact, I think save for a few instances where I went straight home from work because I was so tired, I’ve gone there for a few hours every day for the past two years. I rarely go with someone I know, because by now everyone I know has moved away and they’ve actually started doing something meaningful with their lives. Not me, though. I really couldn’t say why. I suppose that after three years of trying to escape a city that brings you so much rage and pain and discomfort and finding every attempt at escape a crashing failure, you become emotionally numb to its once-unbearable quality of living, and inevitably, you stay.

A friend of mine once described the pool hall as my “comfort zone;” a place to get away from what bothers me most about, well, damn near everything. I’d agree with her if not for the fact that the pool hall is probably one of the most uncomfortable places on the planet. With every trip I take to the pool hall, a small part of me (and my bank account) drifts away, never to return. I could be doing something to actually better myself in the several hours a night I spend there. I could be going back to school and I could be getting a degree that would land me a better job than the dead-end shitfest my current job has turned out to be. But no. I come in here every day after work and spend two hours or more pissing my life and my money away in my corner table, numbed to the point of a near-catatonic emotional state.

When I walk through the door, I’m accustomed to seeing absolutely nobody there, save for Ed the cashier. Ed gives me his usual hello, which equates to him setting a tray of billiard balls on the counter and saying, “Table 5, as usual?” Without so much as a word, I hand him my ID (I’m still baffled by the fact that I have to do this every day) and I head to my table. By now my technique is fluid, from the way I sit everything down on my barstool to the way I rack, and even how I light up my cigarette precisely 33 seconds after completing the rack. I had my own cue, which saved me the trouble of picking out a house cue, and I brought my own baby powder for my hands, considering this place was too cheap to buy hand chalk for people. I take my first shot, precisely 24 seconds after I light up my first cigarette, and as soon as I hear the cue ball hit the 1-ball for the break, I’m gone.

“Meditation” is too spiritual of a term for how oblivious to my surroundings I become after that first shot. “Entranced” would be a better term if it didn’t have somewhat positive connotation. “Gone,” as far as I’ve been able to figure out, is the best term to describe my state as I play. The way I line up my shots is practically autonomic; I don’t notice the table. I don’t even notice the position the balls are in on the table. I don’t notice Ed. I don’t notice whatever random song starts playing on the jukebox. The place could get held up and I wouldn’t notice until I was pushed against the wall and demanded that I hand over my wallet. I’m not there. I’m not anywhere. I’m gone.

My current, practically non-existent state of being stemmed from an amalgam of all of my personal problems. The first few months of my repeated visits to the pool hall resulted from a break-up that I took slightly less than well. A failed relationship, a bullshit job, and a city I hated so much it made my blood boil were my predators, and I needed to get away to somewhere I knew they’d never come for me; a true comfort zone. What made me think “pool hall,” I’ll never know. I mean, I had played there before with my friends, back when I had any, but those times I was going there to play and socialize. This time I was going there to escape. During those first few months, I must have repeated the process that led up to my life crashing down around me over a hundred times, and every time it got harder to face my problems and easier just not to care. At first I became numb to my break-up, then my job, then this city, and then eventually everything, which was good. It gets much easier to play when I don’t have to keep ducking into the bathroom and punching the stall door out of an overflow of anger and aggravation.

However, my state of obliviousness can’t be completely attributed to the apathy I have toward my own miserable life. The people who came in to the pool hall played a rather significant role. When I first started going in, I would usually stop at home first, take a shower, change into some more relaxing clothes, snag something to eat, and fuck around on my computer for a bit. Then I’d head over to the pool hall, which put me at nearly three hours after my shift at work let out. By then the nightly regulars started showing up, ranging from loud, obnoxious, foul-mouthed rednecks to ghetto-blasting little shits in their late teens and early 20’s, all of them loud as hell and all of them with girlfriends who couldn’t be any louder if they had their larynxes replaced with megaphones. The rednecks swapped racist remarks at the expense of the Black and Latin kids, the Black and Latin kids retaliated by playing every horrible hip-hop song you could possibly imagine on the jukebox, and their girlfriends were off on their own little fucking planet, ducking in and out of the door to make cell phone calls while their boyfriends paid by the hour for them to take one, maybe two shots every ten minutes. And to think I had come here to escape. My ex couldn’t get me here and neither could my job, but this city, and society in general, were in full swing here. Still, more than likely stemming from a lack of anywhere else to go, I kept coming in.

During those first few months, I tried my hardest to tune everything and everyone out and just play. On occasion, however, I would take a moment to look around. I would see the rednecks drowning their sorrows in booze and spewing irrational hatred toward whatever minority group popped into their simple little minds. I would see the Black kids and the Latin kids arguing over what horrible song to play next, despite every song sounding exactly the same as the last. I would see their girlfriends yell into their phones as if lives hanged in the balance and then casually walk up to their respective steady and give them a kiss. I observed the materialism, the racism, and the overall ignorance of it all, and on those occasions I felt that my disdain for society had been vilified, and I could go back to my business of tuning them out without any guilt (as if I had any). It wasn’t until I looked at them from the standpoint of happiness that I was able to completely ignore everyone and everything around me. These people, despite their many, many flaws, were happy. They weren’t content or complacent. They were genuinely happy. I could tell by the way they laughed, the way they talked, the way they kissed their girlfriends, the way they enjoyed their music, and the way that they actually came here to play and have fun. At that moment it all came crashing down on me: I hated society because I was jealous. I had intelligence, I had open-mindedness, and I even had cell-phone etiquette. Where was my happiness? My whole adolescence and my early adulthood I spent harboring ill will toward society and my fellow man for what I thought were obvious reasons, and at that moment I was left with only jealousy, one of my most hated emotions, toward the happiness they possessed that I could never have. As per my usual modus operandi, I found myself unable to take on my own problems. I started coming in right after work, when there’s nobody there, and as usual, stopped caring.

A half an hour before everyone starts coming in, I clear my table, place the billiard balls on the tray, disassemble my cue, pay, and leave. As I step out into the humid night air, I feel no sense of accomplishment. I don’t feel as though I’ve somehow, for another day, managed to avoid conflict and have a good time. In truth, I don’t really feel much of anything. A part of me feels that I’m still “gone” and that I’ve been gone ever since I learned how to leave, which I would probably have to agree to. Everything I do at home is a blur, I can't remember the last person I talked to aside from my mother, and I couldn’t recall the last time I paid attention at work if my life depended on it. The only absolute truth in my life is the fact that every day, five minutes after my shift at work ends, I waste away a small chunk of my life at the pool hall, completely numb to the world around me and unable to deal with the problems in my life that I alone can claim responsibility for. And yet, even after coming to this realization every day of my life, I still find myself unable to care.

I know. I'm an asshole. Forgive me.

2006-02-19T17:34:03Z

Completely forgot about those stories I told people I would write for them, and considering all the bullshit that's gone on in my life over the past few months, I don't think I can really blame myself for that.

Consider this a formal announcement of me putting those on indefinite suspension. Should I find myself with enough free time to be able to pick the project back up, I'll try to remember to do so. In the meantime, I apologize to everyone I said I'd write a story for. I just have way too much going on right now. I hope you understand.

-Mike out.

I just shaved.

2006-02-18T12:56:26Z

Damn, I feel sexy.

Stream of Consciousness Post

2006-01-02T18:56:34Z

Happy New Year, everyone. I'm going to take this opportunity to document my thoughts while I'm at work and then share them with the rest of you on this, my small corner of the Internet. This is mostly done in the hopes that it kills time. Here we go!

I cut coffee, soda, cigarettes, and tea out of my diet. I drink water and juice now. I started last Monday, and I had a killer headache for a couple days, but by late Thursday night I felt fine. I wonder if anyone has ever suffered neurological damage by going from three or four cups of coffee at work and another two or three cups of soda/tea at home everyday to absolutely no caffeine whatsoever. Hmmm. Should be better for me in the long run. I just want to be able to enjoy it in moderation, which probably won't be for another few months, but oh well. Such is the price one pays for good health (which I do not possess yet, but I'm trying).

I really enjoy that part at the end of Gary Numan - Cars where the synths take over and they have a couple seconds of good synth and even better drumming. Makes my day.

Work is boring the ever living piss out of me and I am trying to get out of here and start something that can make me money that I actually enjoy doing. I was thinking of starting a comedic editorials site, but I'm more than a tad bit unclear on how that works. I know ad placement has something to do with it, but how much money does that actually bring in? I don't know. If someone would be willing to explain it to me, or if someone could point me in the direction of where I could find this information out, I'd greatly appreciate it.

REM - Everybody Hurts just came on my iPod. I'm going to take this time to admit that the first time I saw the music video, I cried my eyes out. I can listen to the song perfectly fine, but the video still chokes me up a little. I'm a pussy like that. While we're on the topic, Ben Folds Five - Brick and Elvis Presley - In The Ghetto make me cry sometimes. Again, pussy comment applies.

I love when everyone else in the office is in the weekly metting and I have the whole fuckin' place to myself, especially when the phones aren't busy at all. I can take the time to fuck off and not work with even more comfort and assurance that I won't get caught.

I try not to beat myself up about the fact that I've tried to move out of this god damn city for the past two years, yet I've gone absolutely nowhere. It's just hard trying to do so when I can't catch a break in terms of funds, and even moreso when I have no financial backing to support me if I need it. My job barely pays for the bills that I have now, and I had to request a paycheck in advance so I could apply for a short term loan and pay the tuition for half of my classes. The financial aid department at MDC needs my mom's W2's, which she doesn't have, so I'm frantically looking for a way to get some kind of documentation that would get me the financial aid I need. After classes and books are paid for, there's a couple hundred extra dollars that I could really use right now. And just when I feel like I have a hold on things financially, something happens like my car shitting out on me that requires me to rethink my whole strategy. Like I said, it's just hard. I'm trying to set a moving goal for the middle/end of the summer so I can get my AA and have a semester off in the winter to move and find a job and get situated, but if things keep up the way they're going, I'm not going to be able to. Man, I am not happy with the way things are going.

And yes, I'm aware of the irony in me bitching about my job when I just finished saying that I don't actually do any work while I'm here. Well, I used to. I used to work pretty fucking hard at my job, and I was pretty happy with it. When I started taking on more of the bills in the house and I asked for my pay to be raised from $7/hour to something decent, considering the average national payrate for Executive Assistants is $13/hour, and it became increasingly apparent to me that they weren't going to pay me a decent wage for no real reason (I came to this conclusion after several sit-downs with my boss), I said, "Fuck it." If they're not going to be there for me when I fucking need them, then asses to them. Let this whole fucking place crumble around me while I chat on AIM. Fuckers.

I'm gonna stop here because the meeting is over and everyone is coming back to their desks. *sigh*

EDIT #1: I'm still working on those stories. I've decided to work on several at a time, because I often get ideas for one while writing another. Fun stuff! I don't know if you can expect them soon, but you can expect them, if that makes any sense. Yeeaaaah...

-Mike out.

Flexing my creativity for a change.

2005-12-12T01:16:14Z

Comment and ask me to write a story about you and I'll do it. I'll post the stories on my journal. If I've written a story about you before, then I'll write another one. I need to write something and it'd be nice to have something to motivate me to do so. The first story I write goes to the first person who comments.

If, by chance, I happen to piss anyone off with the story I write, then I'm sorry. That's not the intention. I'll try and match personality and mannerisms to the best of my ability, but keep in mind that a lot of you I've never even met before, so it could be hard, which is fine by me. I like a challenge. Also keep in mind that I'm really just bored and need to put my imagination to work a little more than I have been lately.

So yeah. Comment for a story about you.

-Mike out.

UPDATE: These may take a while to get posted because I'll only be working on them at home. Can't afford to get fired for posting on LJ at work, even though I got problems on the Internet.)

Grasshoppah.

2005-11-27T08:00:52Z

Wax on, wax off.

Haven't done one of these in a while.

2005-11-13T23:42:22Z

You scored as Batman, the Dark Knight. As the Dark Knight of Gotham, Batman is a vigilante who deals out his own brand of justice to the criminals and corrupt of the city. He follows his own code and is often misunderstood. He has few friends or allies, but finds comfort in his cause.

</td>

Captain Jack Sparrow

79%

Batman, the Dark Knight

79%

Indiana Jones

71%

Neo, the "One"

71%

Maximus

71%

Lara Croft

63%

The Terminator

58%

James Bond, Agent 007

58%

The Amazing Spider-Man

54%

El Zorro

50%

William Wallace

50%

Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0
created with QuizFarm.com

My source replenished.

2005-11-06T22:54:03Z

For those of you who did not know, my internet connection, the very source of my being, was down for the past month and a half. Having worked out my debt with BellSouth, I am reconnected and once again, everything is well. Upon reconnection, however, I recieved a new email address: mikepapadopoulos@bellsouth.net. If I regularly communicate with you via email, update your contact lists. I won't be checking my Hotmail account anymore.

That's about it. This post was really just to let everyone know that my primary method of communication has been restored and my contact information has changed. Until I have something interesting to say, laters all.

-Mike out.

Arbitrary, yet fun!

2005-11-04T16:26:53Z

Inter-office communication, when taken seriously, is perhaps the most boring thing on the fucking planet. "Hey. I need your statistics. Thanks. -LM" I get emails like this all the time from my boss. I understand that the office environment can be a busy one, but that doesn't necessarilly have to constitute for a lack of interesting email content. I think in the past 7 months or so that I've been here, I've recieved two comedic email forwards: one was all just a bunch of drawings about old people and Viagra (lol), and the other was Weird Al's eBay song from the Poodle Hat album. No real original content.

It is for this reason that I've been adding strange, arbitrary signatures to all of my emails. Because I am in an extremely bored state, I'll post a few of my favorites for all to enjoy.

No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be,
Mike Papadopoulos
Publications Officer/WWII Flying Ace

Neque porro quisquam est qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit,
Michael Papadopoulos
Publications Officer/reciffO snoitacilbuP

Everybody dance now,
Mike Papadopoulos
Publications Officer/Self-Proclaimed Slayer of Argonauts

Foghat rules,
Mike Papadopoulos
Publications Officer/Hero of Time

In constant fear of hamsters,
Michael Papadopoulos
Executive Assistant/Discount Quilt Retailer

I live among the creatures of the night,
Michael Papadopoulos
Executive Assistant/Kick Ass Baritone for a Barber Shop Quartet

MUCHAS EMAIL ESTRAVAGANZA!!!!!
Miguel Sanchez de la Portilla Papadopoulos III, Esquire
Executive Assistant/Ayudante Ejecutiva

Wishing I knew how to play the Theremin,
Michael Papadopoulos
Executive Assistant/Freelance Shaman

If you guys have any suggestions for signatures I can use to torture my coworkers with, then drop me a comment. In the meantime, I'll be sitting here, bored off my ass at work. Wheeeeeeee.

-Mike out.

Dispatches from the office.

2005-10-07T17:08:54Z

The boredom has overcome me to the point where I have a headache. I've practically finished all my work today and putzfucking around on the Internet is practically the only way to pass time around here. It almost makes me want to ask for a harder, more time consuming and challenging position in the company. Almost.

Also, anyone in Orlando have a spare room? I might be leaving earlier than end of the year and I'd need a place to crash while I get on my feet. Anyone who has a spare room up there that they'd be willing to let me crash at for a bit, that would be groovy.

That's about it.

-Mike out.

This hardly seems like something I should be getting paid to write.

2005-10-03T17:29:36Z

It's hard to imagine that in the past three and a half months I haven't been bored enough to update this thing until now. In any case, let's recap the past few months:

1) First and foremost, I am in a wonderful relationship with an amazing woman by the name of Jenny. We're very happy together.
2) On the way to see Jenny a few weeks ago, the fucking transmission on my car practically fucking exploded, so I have no car. I had to pay $250 to have it towed home from Melbourne as well, so that cleaned me out of a good chunk of funds.
3) My credit got fucked by the fact that my mother has bills in my name and hasn't paid them, so I can't get an auto loan (at least not with anyone besides Bank of America, and they charge 13% APR, which is fucking horrid).
4) I am currently remodeling my room, for my awesome girlfriend is coming to visit me and for the first time in my life, I actually give a flying fuck about how my room looks. That and I sleep on a fucking futon mattress on the ground. Come on, already. That shit has to stop.
5) I have to settle my debt with BellSouth that my mom accumulated for me by not paying the bill for three months. $373. Jesus fuck. Because of this, I have no landline phone or internet access at my house. It's fucking killing me. I also have to pay my car insurance payment, which is a pain in the ass considering I'm basically paying insurance on a car I can't drive. I'll see who I can talk to about that.
6) I get paid Wednesday, and hopefully it's a decent amount. I've worked it out to about $480. That should help, but I still need more, especially if I plan on moving anytime soon. Which is why I'm wondering if anyone wants a year and a half old Toshiba Satellite laptop for $350. Specs available on request. Figure'd I'd post it here before I post it on eBay or something in case anyone I actually give a flying fuck about wanted it.
7) I'm probably going to get fired for fucking off on LiveJournal during work. Bahahaha.
8) Still moving to Orlando by the end of the year. I don't plan on staying here any longer than I have to. I can't wait to leave this fucking city.

That's all for now. I'm running on no sleep and my superiors at work have begun to notice a lack in my productivity. Time to make it look like I'm doing something. Laters all.

-Mike out.

Jenny tagged me. I have no choice in this.

2005-06-18T19:53:53Z

I'm whipped. *wha-kish* <3 Jenny.

List five songs that you are currently digging. It doesn't matter what genre they are from, whether they have words, or even if they're any good but they must be songs you're really enjoying right now. Post these instructions, the artists, and the five songs in your blog.

1. Alanis Morissette - Perfect
2. Bush - Alien
3. Primus - Bob
4. Heart - Magic Man
5. Ben Folds - Bastard

I'm not tagging anyone. I'm killing this thing before it consumes more whipped little pansies like me.

Free iPod

2005-05-13T03:18:40Z

Free iPod

Register, charge $7 on whatever card you have for shipping and handling on some stupid shit you'll never need, and then get 5 other people to do the same so you can maybe get a free iPod. Dunno if it works, but worth a damn shot.

Catty gave me a survey and she's awesome for doing so.

2005-04-07T02:55:45Z

1. Total Volume of Music on My Hard Drive :
One sec while I transfer all my stuff from my downloads folder to my mp3 folder... and since I'm not counting Lou's "music," the grand total is... 5.816 gigs! Yay!

2. The last CD I bought was :
It was either that Razorblade Suitcase/Sixteen Stone combo thing I bought on Amazon or... yeah. I think it was that.

3. The song playing right now :
Ween - Don't Laugh (I Love You). Anyone who doesn't have it should go out and snag or download GodWeenSatan: The Oneness. Next to Primus, it's some of the best 90's alternative rock you can get.

4. Ten albums that mean a lot to me :
In no particular order...

1) Green Day - Dookie. First album I ever bought. Fuck yes.
2) Bob Marley - Legends. It's the album I most closely associate with my dad. He absolutely loved this album.
3) Nirvana - Nevermind. When I first got into grunge, this was the album that was out. Smells Like Teen Spirit was being played damn near everywhere and I was the only one who thought In Bloom was a much better song. About a month after I got into grunge, Kurt killed himself (or Courtney did it, whichever you prefer). I joined at a shaky time for grunge, but it always stayed with me.
4) Soundgarden - Down On The Upside. Best Soundgarden album, in my opinion. Has my favorite song from them, which hardly anyone has heard of, Never Named.
5) Polaris - Music From the Adventures Of Pete And Pete. All the music I grew up listening to on one of my favorite shows of all time packed onto this one little CD. It doesn't get any better.
6) Journey - Greatest Hits. It's fuckin' Journey, man. Journey kicks ass. That and it reminds me of Liv.
7) Led Zeppelin (any album). They all fuckin' rock hardcore. Except for In Through The Out Door. Zep sold out on that one.
8) Guns N' Roses - Appetite For Destruction. In the early 90's I took a trip to Greece with my family. My uncle brought along his copy of Appetite For Destruction and it was listened to most heavily. Then when we got back to miami we met Guns N' Roses at the airport. It was awesome.
9) Alice In Chains - Best Of The Box. My dad's favorite band and one of the best CD's and music DVD's I own.
10) Clerks Soundtrack. Music has rarely accompanied such an extraordinary film this well.

5. Which 5 people are you passing this baton to, and why?
Whoever wants it can come get it. I'm sure everyone will have at least one thing in their response that'll be of some interest to me.

The most accurate online quiz I've ever taken.

2005-03-26T04:14:57Z

I'm not one for online quizzes. I'll do them occassionally when I get bored and wonder what Inuyasha/Boondock Saints/Aqua Teen/etc. character I am for shits and giggles. Online quizzes about personality, on the other hand, have always been too vague to me and I don't feel that a site with a picture of the sky opening up that says "You are an... Angel!" or some shit like that qualifies it as a credible source for what my personality is like. This one, however, I found to be very accurate. Well worth the time it takes to answer everything. Here are my results. I'll let you be the judge of the quiz's accuracy.

Advanced Global Personality Test Results

Extraversion	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	33%
Stability	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Orderliness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	33%
Empathy	\|\|\|\|\|\|	23%
Interdependence	\|\|\|\|	16%
Intellectual	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	63%
Mystical	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	56%
Artistic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Religious	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Hedonism	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	56%
Materialism	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Narcissism	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Adventurousness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Work ethic	\|\|\|\|	16%
Self absorbed	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	63%
Conflict seeking	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Need to dominate	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	43%

Romantic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	56%
Avoidant	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	43%
Anti-authority	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Wealth	\|\|\|\|	16%
Dependency	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	43%
Change averse	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	43%
Cautiousness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	76%
Individuality	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	56%
Sexuality	\|\|\|\|\|\|	23%
Peter pan complex	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	50%
Physical security	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	43%
Food indulgent	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Histrionic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Paranoia	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	63%
Vanity	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Hypersensitivity	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	56%
Female cliche	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%

Take Free Advanced Global Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

Stability results were low which suggests you are very worrying, insecure, emotional, and anxious.

Orderliness results were moderately low which suggests you are, at times, overly flexible, improvised, and fun seeking at the expense of reliability, work ethic, and long term accomplishment.

Extraversion results were moderately low which suggests you are reclusive, quiet, unassertive, and secretive.

trait snapshot:
messy, depressed, introverted, feels invisible, does not make friends easily, nihilistic, reveals little about self, fragile, dark, bizarre, feels undesirable, dislikes leadership, reclusive, weird, irritable, frequently second guesses self, unassertive, unsympathetic, low self control, observer, worrying, phobic, suspicious, unproductive, avoidant, negative, bad at saving money, emotionally sensitive, does not like to stand out, dislikes large parties, submissive, daydreamer

Survey time! w00t!

2005-03-21T20:11:30Z

Taken from Meng (lotus_tear)

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Science has reached its ultimate goal

2005-03-12T07:02:47Z

So Friday night. Date night. The night where people go out and do things with other people in social settings in order to establish themselves as outgoing, functioning members of society. What are myself and Kreps doing? We're plotting the downfall of said society as we know it.

With the advent of such gripping and realistic television shows as Law & Order, particularly Law & Order: SVU, people have become familiar with the lingo associated with the detectives and officers who make walking the streets of this country a little safer. One little piece of lingo, known as the "rape kit" has helped us become accustomed with the proceedings and the goings-on involved in a rape investigation (i.e. what gets swabbed, what gets blacklighted, etc.). But what about the careful preperation that goes on before the crime, let alone the preparation for the crime itself? Well, prepare to be amazed and educated. Ladies and gentlemen, I bring to you a marvel of modern science: The Pre-Rape Kit

What once used to take several trips to a myriad of stores/gas stations is now culminated into one kit for anyone in the field, varying from the rapist-on-the-go to your most skilled of sexual predators. A true feat of modern science indeed.

Everyone done laughing/being shocked? Good. Now for the serious part. I do not condone rape. I know people who have been raped. This was simply an offshoot of a few things next to Kreps' bedside that looked eerily suspicious and we let boredom and our off-the-wall, SVU-induced comedy take it's toll. I just felt I should say that. Not to take away from the comedic factor, but so people don't get the wrong idea. It's all in fun. I mean nobody, especially my friends and those who read my journal, any harm.

-Mike out.

Now I'm fucking pissed.

2005-03-03T17:01:34Z

As much as I hate to use my journal to bitch about things, because hell, that's what every attention whore on the internet does, I'm fuckin pissed and shit has gone way too motherfucking far.

I bought my car from some fuck who wanted to get rid of it because he was "moving." He was charging $1500, and we got him down to $1100. It had a bad transmission but otherwise worked reasonably well for local travel. Once I realized how to work the car with the bad transmission, I was even able to take the thing up to Orlando without a problem. However, on the way back down from Orlando I ended up slamming into a wall of cones because they closed off the fucking HOV lane on I-95 without any fucking signs that they had done so whatsoever. When I slammed on the brakes doing 80, the transmission became no more. It got me home to Miami alright, but died permanently soon after.

It was then that my mom recommended her mechanic Enrique. He had done work on her car reasonably cheap and I thought, "Sure. What the hell. Have him look at it." He looked at the car, realized it was a transmission error, and took the car in. He found a rebuilt transmission for $400 and said he would charge $200 in labor. After comparing around and getting estimates for $1400 for the transmission alone, as in without labor, I stuck with him and told him $600 would be fine. He had the car for a week, and when I got it back it ran better than when I bought it.

Things seemed to be going well until 4 days later. I went to the bank to deposit some cash and when I got back in the car it was doing the same fucking thing it had done before. I got him back over here and he took the car for another week. I just got the car back yesterday at precisely 3:40 PM. I drove it around for a bit, came home around 10:15, made some plans to go job hunting, passed out around 10:30, and called it a day.

I woke up this morning to go job hunting with Sasha (xoreo_cookiex) and the fucking car appeared to be doing the same god damn thing it was doing when I first gave him the motherfucker. I was able to get the car to the middle of the street and back into the driveway when I noticed a puddle of transmission fluid on the ground where I had parked last night. Apparently they didn't install the fucking transmission seals properly, so I'm out of a fucking car for what is supposed to be a reasonable important day of seeking gainful fucking employment, and probably another fucking week.

This is fucking ridiculous. I don't have a motherfucking job right now. I'm overdrawn on my motherfucking bank account $40 fucking dollars. I need some motherfucking way of getting around this shithole fucking city so I can get a job and get some motherfucking money to fucking live, for the love of fucking Christ! FUCK! What the fuck does it fucking take for shit to go well for once in this miserable fucking existence of mine?!

No more. I'm fucking sick of it.

-Mike out.

I can't stand it, I know ya planned it.

2005-03-02T15:30:58Z

Anyone with any ideas as to where I can find gainful employment in this city, as well as anyone who may be able to put in a good word for me with someone they know at a place you think I wouldn't mind working, please let me know. I'm fuckin' desperate here. I need work.

This seemed fun as hell at the time.

2005-03-01T17:58:21Z

Stolen from Bek for no particular reason.

1. Figure the numerical values of the letters in your name:

m - 13
i - 9
k - 11
e - 5

2. Add all of the numbers together: 38

3. Make a note of the first digit of this number, then add the digits of the number together: 11

4. Find the post of this number in your LJ. If you don't have that many posts, add the digits together again. Keep doing so until the number is smaller than your pathetic number of posts: I only have ten posts, so I added 1 and 1 to make for my second post.

5. Take the digit you noted in step 3, and count that many words into the post: You

6. Use the resulting word in a Google Image Search, and select a picture from the first page:

Ahh, what the hell. Everyone's doin' it.

2005-02-25T07:19:15Z

Jimmy was doing it before it was cool though because he's indie.

-Mike out.