Plastic Surgery has come a LONG way

Say hello to the first recipient of skin grafting, Walter Yeo:

The after picture may look like something out of the twilight zone. But the before picture may be the scariest thing I will ever see... Plus he smiles in the after picture

Cheese!

George Widener

About George Widener

I had been hiking the Appalachian trail for 3 or 4 days with three good friends of mine. We ended that evening at a larger then unusually wooden shelter and camp site. When we arrived there was already a man sitting there by himself. That man was George Widener. He broke the ice of our relationship by explaining to each of us all of the things that had happened on our birthdays throughout history. George was somewhat socially awkward, yet was enthralling with all of his esoteric knowledge. He handed us a wrinkled piece of paper with his biography that had a section ripped out of it. 

George can see special patterns throughout time and has created magic calenders that aresimilar to cosmic sudoku's. He completely blew my mind and has recently created some amazing works of art. All of his stories throughout the evening were extremely existential and inspiring. Though his mannerism were not as common or deliberate as a normal person, his stories and conversations made any social oddities regardless. 

When we had returned from our trip, we investigated George's biography. George has Asperger syndrome and is a highly functioning autistic. I wish I knew him better and would love to get my hands on some of his awesome art work.

Nothing Like Capitalism

I don't think there is anything more American then the Idea of Diet Coke Plus. For all of us unhealthy ass holes that want to get healthy, all the while maintaining our state of unhealthy assholeness. 

Those who enjoy the splendid taste and refreshing burst of vitamins and minerals delivered from a Diet Coke Plus not only get the benefit of great flavor, they also get the good fortune of living in a world of retartdeness that makes Narnia look plausable.

Unia? Dreams darkness

I have had the CD UNIA by Sonata Artica for a while now, and it still gives me the same feeling that I got when I first listened to it.

 

Unia reminds me of being in an autumn field. A dark clouded noon with a chilly breeze. In this field, I am standing in a room of a house long abandoned. The walls are covered with dark maroon wallpaper, worn all over and beginning to tear. No direct light enters the room, only the visibility allowed by the grace of the air. There is a rocking chair by the wall made out of white painted oak and a baby's cradle in the corner. Cobwebs connect both to the wall. Dust covers the room like a light snow. There is a painting on the wall, a black and white photo with a rustic ornate frame. There is a blond haired woman with gentle features and a hooknose. Her face is slender and young, yet her dress is a relic. Expounding designs typical to an 18th century ball gown... but the meaning of her dress has faded long ago. She is holding her daughter and gazing out of the picture with an emotionless gaze.

 

I am standing in the middle of this room. My eye focused on a random section of the wall below the picture. It is a place that I have left long ago, and yet never forgotten. I feel bittersweet nostalgia. Yet though this place belongs to me and is my memory, I don't fit here... In fact, I never have. I am alone in this room and there is never going to be a way to get out. I am an owl in an sewer. My thoughts cannot escape this place, as I am trapped within this room. Though I am trapped, I am not afraid. I am accepting. I am filthy. Yet I am real.

 

Anyway… This uncomfortable feeling always revisits me when listening to this CD, thus I think its good.

Did you know...

When I get really nervous, I get an uncontrollable hiccup fit? I certainly wasn't aware, but last night and this morning I couldn't stop hiccuping because of my stress about getting a paper turned in on time. It actually got to the point were I became nauseous from all the diaphragm contractions.

This may be the pussiest response to stress that anyone has ever had.

why am I sad?

I recently did not succeed at something. I was not initially upset, I saw it coming, yet for some reason it started to bother me later. I believe that the reason for this was from the response I got from people when I informed them of my failure. Not that my friends treated me poorly, because they actually treated me quite well. Something one certainly hopes for in friends. They treated me rather warmly, as they accept my failure and they addressed we in a way that said "I still want me to be your friend."

I'm not sure how this makes me feel. These people act with the best of intentions, yet through their treatment of me, I see myself through their eyes. What makes it a problem is that their image of me does not fit with my own. I can internally justify my problems and build up my self esteem through my dirty little personality tricks I'm not going to teach you. However, when looking through their eyes I see myself as less of an island and more of an impressionable, and somewhat pitiful case.

The worst part is, I constructed the me that's in my head. So, is that self an ideal and elaborate illusion that I have fooled myself into believing? Or is the pity I receive merely misplaced by well intentioned people? I am rather certain that the answer is a mixture of the both.

Bamabii's response:

Stop trying to pretend you are introspective. Your just sad you failed and are trying to justify it with the little bit you remember from Psychology class.

My Response:

yeah. I guess the most important takeaway from this is that I have problems with my Self esteem and need consistent reasurment of how good I am.

Bamabii's response:

You slept through the majority of Psychology class.

My Response:

Fine, I'm just a sad panda :(

I'm So hungry

I think it would be a lot easier to be a vegetarian if meat wasn't so good and full of needed proteins.