<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312</id><updated>2011-12-18T03:21:40.975-05:00</updated><category term='future'/><category term='Drinking'/><category term='douchebaggary'/><category term='morons'/><category term='assholes'/><category term='parties'/><category term='waste'/><category term='mistakes'/><category term='Steakout'/><category term='soloutions'/><category term='coffee'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='work'/><category term='drugs'/><category term='Relevant'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>Anth K, The Super Jew</title><subtitle type='html'>Every once in awhile, it's time to just let it all go</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>37</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-1499223746860091609</id><published>2011-01-04T20:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T20:44:55.125-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so glad that the holidays are over.</title><content type='html'>I hate the holidays. I hate them with all I am. If the Beatles and Christmas were one entity, I would cause an apocalypse of some sort. But, they're not, so you're all still alive. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was the first Christmas that I haven't been at my parents house for. This may also be the Christmas that I despise the least. No big fancy production, no eight hours putting lights on a stupid tree, followed by another two hours of re-arranging ornaments, because they're not symmetric on the front and back(which is in a corner) of the tree. No stupid family dinners that make a ten year old want to drown his Christmas in another bottle of something at least 10 years old. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This year we went to Amanda's mom's house. Three hours away from anyone overly bothersome. And we were able to relax. We played Mario Kart and Super Mario, drank eggnog, ate Chinese food, and lots of candy, and watched stupid MTV show marathons. Not too bad. Only con, Amanda's mom got me a Journey t-shirt. At least she'll wear it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now, everyone can get back on with their lives, and I can start taking the Christmas decorations at work down, and not need to mix my booze with eggnog to make it seasonally acceptable. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whiskey and ice, daddy is home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-1499223746860091609?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/1499223746860091609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=1499223746860091609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/1499223746860091609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/1499223746860091609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2011/01/im-so-glad-that-holidays-are-over.html' title='I&apos;m so glad that the holidays are over.'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-8610043894778021297</id><published>2010-11-09T19:52:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T20:35:45.712-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soloutions'/><title type='text'>Because, other people aren't able to.</title><content type='html'>It seems that I may have not gotten the full list of things that I need to do when I got this job. I am not at all complaining, however, I've gotten into a l0t of stuff that I have never worked with before. For example, In one day, I had to work on a little electric, re-route some drainage lines, build a portion of a website, hang from a ceiling and repositioning &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ellipsoidals&lt;/span&gt; with a broom stick (Because the trusses are 10 feet apart, and the only ladder we have to get up there is an extension ladder, and I don't have a 10 foot wingspan)  I suppose changing gels like that could be more dangerous....&lt;div&gt;Also, in the same day, I did my personal assistant duties, and got coffee, and finally, did some work on the patch bay, because the moron that put it in before, couldn't manage to figure out how to use a punch down tool. Only one of these tasks, is actually in my job description. Not a big deal, if it's every once in awhile, but there is something interesting around the corner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Recently, because Christmas is upcoming, and I work at a church, there was a musical in the near future, I had a decent amount of stage work in front of me. Set building was no problem, running tracks and setting up a clear com system, not a big deal, Flying props, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. Re-designing an entire lighting install, design a show, and set cues for the person that will be running it during the actual production. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to be very honest when I say, I do not belong behind a light board. I can turn them on. I can make the smart lights spin and change colors, I can install them, and I can change gels. That's about it. I've gotten a crash course a couple times, but am in no way prepared to make this thing "sing".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found out this afternoon, that I will be assuming control of the theatrical lighting department. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's great. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I may as well be taking charge of a R&amp;amp;D team for a new flavor of Doritos. I have as much experience. I mean I like Doritos. I can manage to buy them, and make them disappear. Perhaps, comment on the taste of said Doritos. But, I probably shouldn't be making any kind of decision about them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;From this point on, I am solely in control of the most expensive equipment on campus. Because, well... We're still on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;PCs&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess it isn't a bad thing. I may as well learn how to operate them, in a pinch, it would be useful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People assume that the guy at the desk knows how to fix all the problems. Mostly because they also assume he is the one causing them. But, having to learn an entire system in 3 weeks (Remember, I have a show to design) and make it work well enough so that no one knows the difference, might be a little more than I was expecting to chew this winter. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess as long as it comes with a pay raise, I won't mind too much. Depending on the raise, I may &lt;i&gt;LOVE &lt;/i&gt;running lights. Who knows? Other than the person putting the pay rate increase request in, obviously.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-8610043894778021297?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/8610043894778021297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=8610043894778021297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/8610043894778021297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/8610043894778021297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2010/11/because-other-people-arent-able-to.html' title='Because, other people aren&apos;t able to.'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-5434436463439218233</id><published>2010-08-21T14:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T14:45:45.995-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been a year?</title><content type='html'>That wasn't the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-arranged title for this blog, but, seeing as how I haven't posted in literally a year and a day, it seemed appropriate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick run down of whats happened in that year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned 21&lt;br /&gt;I got married to Amanda&lt;br /&gt;I got a new job that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;absolutely&lt;/span&gt; love, it's seriously been my dream job since I was 10.&lt;br /&gt;I got a cat named Bones.&lt;br /&gt;Bones has separation anxiety, so we got another cat named Toby.&lt;br /&gt;I got a custom made overdrive pedal with my name printed on it. It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bitchin&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beyond that, I remembered that there is only so much that I can post on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;fudgebook&lt;/span&gt; before someone notices that there is a liberal asshole on their church staff. I guess I should take the link to this off of there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing pretty well with the new job, I love doing it, I get to make my own schedule, unlike that old crappy version of "making your own schedule" at the collections place.&lt;br /&gt;Amanda and I both get a day off together, which is nice, considering how much she hates her job, and would rather be at home together watching movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My biggest dilemma at this new job, is the old/current &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Sunday&lt;/span&gt; morning "sound guy" you know the one that shows up some where and says "Don't worry, I got this, I run sound at my church"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(To make a note, the only reason I don't mix on Sunday, is because I play in the worship band, and any time that I walk behind the board while this guy is there I get shoved out of the way. Even though I was hired as the Audio/Recording studio engineer. I've got freaking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;business&lt;/span&gt; cards that say it!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fits the stereotype, almost to a t. His ears are about as useful at the board as a lighter at the bottom of the pool.&lt;br /&gt;The guy uses headphones to mix the house, not to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;EQ&lt;/span&gt; individuals, actually to mix the house. Because in his words, "If it sounds good in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;bose&lt;/span&gt; headphones, it sounds good in the house"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WRONG&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's been running sound here for about a decade if I can remember correctly, I lost a few years in there somehow. It's sounded bad for exactly.........All of those years, however long it may be.&lt;br /&gt;Recently to show my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;disapproval&lt;/span&gt; of this, along with his other mad church sound guy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;skillzzzzz&lt;/span&gt;, I threw a picture up on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;gaybook&lt;/span&gt;.  Anyone else that I know that has stood behind, or even to the side of a desk went off. It's kind of annoying when you drop a couple grand on compressors, and they're not even being utilized, because the old audio consultant, the church used before they hired me, got them set up, "So they don't ever need to be adjusted again".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right. Because people don't ever change the way they sing, and they've sounded the same for the last 10 years.&lt;br /&gt;This on top of the tin ears, and the incredible lack of utilization of the crappy board that he told the church to buy has gotten me to the point where I've just started correcting all of his mistakes while he isn't there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The general rule of thumb for the worship team at the church is, if you don't show up for practice, you don't play on Sunday morning, it seems logical. If you don't know what the hell is going on, you shouldn't be there to screw it up on game day. The same thing should apply to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;FOH&lt;/span&gt; desk. I'm there, along with a volunteer, (who also gets shoved out of the way on Sunday mornings, unless the mighty sound warrior has somewhere else to be) and everything is mixed down to a point that we're both happy with. I even stopped zeroing everything out after, and would leave it set for the services, so all he had to do was flip the on switch and let it ride.&lt;br /&gt;But, it seems that putting all the guitars in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;VCA&lt;/span&gt; that says "GUITARS" on it, doesn't work for him, nor does the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;VCA&lt;/span&gt; that has the grand piano and both keyboards in it that is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;labeled&lt;/span&gt; "KEYS"&lt;br /&gt;along with the last group &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;labeled&lt;/span&gt; "LEAD &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;VOX&lt;/span&gt;" which coincidentally contains the three worship leaders on Sunday mornings, not to be confused with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;BGV's&lt;/span&gt; group or the Head Sets group.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I could actually make it any easier. I do all the work &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;during&lt;/span&gt; the week, run the practice, and it all gets blown up when it actually needs to be run the right way. We've even had people, like the senior pastor, who is almost 80 years old, come up and compliment the way that it sounded when the volunteer that I had to re-train, was running sound by himself on a Sunday morning. It's kind of funny that, that has happened every time this kid, or myself has run the board in the last 6 months, and hasn't happened for the 10 years prior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, alas. Every week I hear complaints along the lines of "It hasn't sounded this bad since I before I started running sound" or "I wish the person who screwed up the way I have this set up had to run sound for service" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all reality, as stated by common consensus, and compliments from the stiffest people in the place, about how it finally sounds nice in here, along with other musicians noticing a huge difference, and me saying that I would run the desk on Sundays, if he would stay out of the way. I still find myself in a bind of how I am supposed to actually do my job effectively. I'm still searching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a closing note, remember that almost 80 year old Senior Pastor of the Church?, who is also a Bishop, within the denomination, the guy I'm talking about, is his son in law.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-5434436463439218233?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/5434436463439218233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=5434436463439218233' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/5434436463439218233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/5434436463439218233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2010/08/its-been-year.html' title='It&apos;s been a year?'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-5263873864464858289</id><published>2009-08-20T19:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T19:24:13.268-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's getting closer...</title><content type='html'>So, next week I'll be turning 21 which means I can finally buy my own liqour. So not a lot will be changing. But at least I don't have to hope there is something that I like will show up on my fridge, and for anyone reading into it, whiskey always manages to make its way to home, which I'm totally ok with. Other than that I haven't written in awhile and making a post on my phone is getting a little tiresome on my thumbs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've been working a job in collections I've gotten to talk to a lot of, um, nifty people. People my age who can't find a job anywhere, old people who are on social security, or people who are just plain dumb. The economy is only an excuse for so long, you need to get off your ass and get a job. Please. I hate the fact that people can do whatever they want with someone elses money, and assume that they won't mind because it's a bank. At least the people working at the bank have a job. You can't blame them for doing their job, and holding people to the contracts they sign. Not my fault people don't read that fine print. I'll need to post some actual stories another time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another new fun fact: I just got in a car accident. Some schmuck going to the beach merged into traffic and proceeded to merge right into my car. Awesome. I don't believe that much else has changed, other than the wedding is only a few weeks away and were not doing so well with people returning rsvp's on time. But, it's not about other people I suppose. The karioke and heavy metal at the reception, along with the open bar will make up for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-5263873864464858289?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/5263873864464858289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=5263873864464858289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/5263873864464858289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/5263873864464858289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-getting-closer.html' title='It&apos;s getting closer...'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-4582676959654951942</id><published>2009-04-19T20:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T21:03:57.946-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relevant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='douchebaggary'/><title type='text'>How is that miserable bastard?</title><content type='html'>Being totally honest, I hate reunions. I really do. Almost every reunion I've ever been to, I didn't want to be at. Usually, the people that you haven't seen in a long time, you haven't seen for a reason. I'm dreading my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;high school&lt;/span&gt; reunion because I hated almost everyone in my school, except the few that I still keep in touch with regularly. This last weekend, was a sort of bittersweet reunion. Don't even try to take that as some sappy loving load. Cause it's not. It was a pain in the ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter Friday afternoon, after lunch time. And no, I haven't eaten yet. I get out of work and drive clear across the city to meet up for a load in with the original Relevant Worship tech crew. As usual, this group of too many musicians has arrived and already proven themselves dead weight. Should be used to that now, hanging out, watching everyone else put together a sound system. Predictable to say the least. Anyways, this is the first time in almost a year that the original tech crew got back together. Jon, Kevin, Amanda and myself. I'll admit, I was useless until breakdown, because I honestly had no desire to be there, other than the post game activities that became attached to it.&lt;br /&gt;The event itself was supposed to start at 6:30 pm. Doors opened around 7 if I remember correctly. Didn't get out til 11. Maybe it was the dirty hippie's sound guy, who managed to be useless other than whining and making a sound check take too long. Maybe it was the "Native" band who also spent more time on a sound check than actually playing their music. Maybe it was because of personal vendetta Indian guy, who went half an hour too long speaking about injustice, after his very plain set. Or maybe the guy who has a 10 minute slot that turned into an hour, or maybe the general disregard for any kind of time schedule.&lt;br /&gt;After we wrapped the mess of weekend day 1 up, we spent the greater part of the midnight hours in my backyard, around a sad excuse for a fire pit. Mostly because the rich bastards in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Williamsville&lt;/span&gt; outlawed fires taller than 3 feet, and the poor fires have to be contained in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;manufactured&lt;/span&gt; pit. Not joking. So as we had finally all re-united, we tried to do something interesting, but the long day wouldn't have any of it. So about 3 in the morning, we all crashed at my house, only to be up a little after 6 (for Jon and Kevin) and 9 (for the girl and I)&lt;br /&gt;Arriving at 10 A.M. we walked in to Relevant Worship, once again over playing for the situation. It was a big church, not a stadium, and, my God, you can tell they're all white musicians before you see them. As I grew quickly disinterested me and the &lt;s&gt;oldest&lt;/s&gt; er, most distinguished, member of the group, made a walk over to the store for some batteries, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sustenance&lt;/span&gt; (Tops sushi, did not fit the second requirement. Be warned) I got a bit of the, you're taking too long talk. I'll just leave it at that, and more of the, wow, I can't wait til this is over talk. Anyways, since we ducked out, we figured it would be in poor taste to disrupt, whatever the hell was going on in there. So, we got to spend some actual time hanging out, not doing anything. Not worrying about the garbage that normally eats our minds on the weekends. I think about an hour later, Jon grew a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;conscience&lt;/span&gt; and returned to his post inside. Amanda and I went home to nap. I knew better than to assume this thing would be on schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprise. It ended early. Cause that makes sense. Start it late, end it early. Usually someone would get a raise for that kind of positive use of time, and lowering of overhead cost. Too bad we didn't have overhead. Just a little more time to make good on the almost lost fun part of the weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, we all ended up at my house, the 4 of us. All together again. And, about an hour or so into that, I had worked a good dent into the bourbon, as well as the half a slaughter house worth of chicken drumsticks that we cooked up. Then we worked onto the cigars, and eventually, the coffee my mom made us at 2 in the morning to sober up. Jon and Kevin left, I managed to stumble upstairs, Amanda, well, I think she made it to sleep.&lt;br /&gt; Really, with all the stupid stuff that's gone down with the people our 4 used to be involved with, it's nice to just relax. It took a long week, and a longer weekend to get there. But I almost think it was worth it to get a little down time together. Being back there again, re affirms that I'm glad I'm not involved anymore. I can only deal with so much &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;hypocrisy&lt;/span&gt; on a regular basis. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;That'll&lt;/span&gt; be over on the other blog shortly. Sitting on the sidelines, and seeing people befuddled by themselves is quite the reward. I like seeing people make idiots of themselves. I'm just glad I got to see that happen with the old crew back together for the weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-4582676959654951942?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/4582676959654951942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=4582676959654951942' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/4582676959654951942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/4582676959654951942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-is-that-miserable-bastard.html' title='How is that miserable bastard?'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-6057719357559432480</id><published>2009-04-05T11:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T12:34:03.816-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='morons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relevant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='douchebaggary'/><title type='text'>Responsibility and musical equipment</title><content type='html'>I'll admit it.  Most of the time I can be a pretty unreasonable person, but this time, I have a damn good reason to be pissed. Awhile back I was playing with a band called Relevant. Essentially I was a fill in, until they could find someone that they liked better. So the time came where the so called executive director's best friend moved back into town. Coincidentally, he owned a bass. So I was removed. 8 months or so later, here we are. At the time I had purchased a couple thousand dollars of equipment to use while I played for them. When I was systematically removed, I continued being a somewhat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;reasonable&lt;/span&gt; human being, and let them continue using my speaker cabinet, which I spent close to $1000 on. I was planning on retrieving it when I saw it next which would be in two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;Enter yesterday morning.&lt;br /&gt;I got a text from my friend who is a guitar player for the band letting me know that he found an identical match to a guitar that he used to have. I was excited, so a little while later, when I got out of work, I gave him a call. We talked about the guitar for a bit, then he asked me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, um, did anyone tell you about your cabinet yet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Jer&lt;/span&gt;, what happened to my cabinet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um, when it was in the trailer Pete's drum stool fell through the front of it and went right through one of the speakers. No one told you about it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry man, it was like a month ago. I thought someone told you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, no, no one in a month had contacted me about the fact that they had wrecked my cabinet. Not the 'responsible' executive director, nor the lead singer who I see at least once a week, not my friend who is a tech for them, not my other friend who is a tech/guitar player, nor the guy who uses it, because it's better than what he has. Nope. Not one. The problem is, I have talked to all of these people since it's happened. The one who told me about it, I haven't talked to in a month. And the first contact I had with him, he told me. Thanks &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Jer&lt;/span&gt;, for not being a douche bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the kind of stuff that gives Christians a bad name. You'll go out to save the rest of the world, and do all kinds of stuff to get as much recognition as possible, but you're not capable of growing a pair and telling someone you fucked up. Just because you're a Christian, doesn't mean that you can get away with screwing people over, although, it seems that no one gets that part of co-existing with the other 7 billion people that live on the planet. I screw up on a regular basis. But hell, If I wreck something, I'll at least make an attempt to right the wrong. I'm pretty self centered, but I wouldn't stand a chance against these guys. I feel bad for the couple people involved with them that are responsible, and that do care. It seems that the nice guys were systematically removed. Our egos simply weren't as big. Another case of the mine is bigger than yours argument. You win. Your egos are WAY bigger than mine. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, I'm done ranting on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In closing, If anyone knows where the most expensive place to get this thing fixed is, give me a call. I'd love to have it fixed there. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;, I can apply the same mentality they did, it's not my problem! I'm not paying for it. Maybe Ill have it encrusted with diamonds as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-6057719357559432480?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/6057719357559432480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=6057719357559432480' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/6057719357559432480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/6057719357559432480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2009/04/responsibility-and-musical-equipment.html' title='Responsibility and musical equipment'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-8892772554554691993</id><published>2009-03-17T21:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T21:50:23.937-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Time passed</title><content type='html'>So, I haven't written anything in over  3 months. Or something like that. Those past three months have come close to being some of the most interesting months for me in recent memory. All of my old posts were about my old stupid job, that subsequently took a huge toll on my life and most of the people around me. As of last month, I finally grew a pair and got a new job. So, instead of dealing with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ornary&lt;/span&gt; annoying people at overnight hours, I deal with them over the phone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;durring&lt;/span&gt; the day, where they can't actually do anything about their threats of killing or injuring me. I now work in the wonderful world of collections. I still haven't decided which group makes me more sick. The drunks, or the people that don't understand that when you borrow money, you have to pay it back. I don't work normal collections, I work &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-legal. So if I call you and you don't come up with the money, people &lt;em&gt;are &lt;/em&gt;going to come and take your car, your house, or any other assets that they can sell to get their money back. It's not a nice place to be. Trust me. But at least this job offers health insurance and I have an almost normal schedule. That I can live with for now. I know I won't be doing this forever, but for now, it's paying the bills and helping me get my head a little bit farther above water than it was before. Other than that, life has been looking all sorts of up. Since I was booted from Relevant, I have been offered a ton more opportunities to play music, and even have a say in what I'm playing, not used to that at all. It sure is nice though. That being said, now I can pick and choose when and where I can play and still have time to myself to do what I want. Like what I was able to do last weekend.&lt;br /&gt;I've been meaning to talk with Amanda's mother for quite some time, and last weekend, we finally worked out a trip home. Friday we left mid-afternoon and drove to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Utica&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Amanda's&lt;/span&gt; mom lives out in the country, on the top of a hill, so we had a great view, and a whole weekend to just relax. No one bothering us, no one calling to see if we can arrange something, just a whole weekend of doing the same thing we do in Buffalo when we have time off. Sit around, eat junk food, watch movies, and usually sleep whole days away, but this time we were a couple hundred miles away. And that couple hundred miles makes all the difference. Finally, we got to go to church, and weren't expected to do anything. I almost didn't know how to deal with it, other than the fact that we're going to try and do it more often as long as our schedules allow for it. If they don't, we'll make them. I never had an idea of what it would be like to go out to stay with someones parent for a weekend. But, I liked it. Enough to go back for more. Best part is, it seems like mom approves, which makes me feel 100% better.&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, this is the first time that everything is really starting to come together, the future is starting to look good, and I'm not anxious for it, but at the same time I'm not afraid of it. I'm excited to see what is going to happen, and more importantly, when it's going to happen. I've always waited for everything to fall apart, but now it's doing the opposite. And I couldn't be happier. Unless someone just gave me $50,000. Then at least I could pay everything off now. But oh well. Just gonna have to keep looking forward to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-8892772554554691993?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/8892772554554691993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=8892772554554691993' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/8892772554554691993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/8892772554554691993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2009/03/time-passed.html' title='Time passed'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-1385529849900604967</id><published>2008-12-17T06:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T06:56:16.952-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='morons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drugs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Steakout'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mistakes'/><title type='text'>Interesting is an understatment</title><content type='html'>So, for the first time, in a long time, things started looking up. Everything at work was going really well, I haven't fired anyone in awhile, haven't been in a fight with customers in quite a long time. But, I'm only allowed to have a certain amount of peace in my life. I topped out and needed to be reset to zero apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter Friday night.&lt;br /&gt;It's a little busy at work, and I had someone call off already due to a tummy ache. Great excuse for a 23 year old.  After that, someone else decided they were just coming in an hour late. Whatever. No big deal. Then he notices that he has new shoes on. I told him that he should change them, otherwise they'd get ruined. So he leaves. Punched him out of the register. And then 3 hours pass. I called someone else in, and we were fine on people for the rest of the night. 3:30 am the kid comes back. He's disoriented and trying to get my managers card so he can get change for the $50 he has. I was a little concerned and didn't want him touching the drawer. So I went up there and asked him for the 50. He didn't have it. He said he would get it from his car. Came back. No cash. Then he just asked for $20 straight out of the drawer. I told him that wasn't going to happen. Then he asked me for cash, and everyone else that was working. Still no. I walked away from him. Then he started following me around, "Yo, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Anth&lt;/span&gt;, come for a ride with me. I'll go pick you up some bud or something. Just come for a ride man"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. At that point, the fact that he was severely cracked out hit me. I knew, I just didn't want to believe it. So I threw him out of  the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the night, when I counted all the money, we were short $100. I thought I did a deposit wrong, or something like that. Because that kid wasn't anywhere near the drawer. I didn't let him near it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I called the district guy, and let him know, that we should fire Rob, because he's coming in on crack again, and that $100 was probably in a deposit.  Well he checked it, and the 100 was gone. So he told me he'd call back in awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He watched the video of Rob punching in. He took my managers card and opened the drawer. Grabbed a $100 bill, then put it back, and took out 5 $20 bills. Sneaky bastard. So they said they were just going to take his check for reimbursement. Then, Shawn, my good boss also told me they were setting up a sting to arrest him. That didn't work, so they just sent a couple cops over to his house to arrest him. Pretty sure he's in jail now. And the owner is personally pressing charges and filing a restraining order against him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know what else to say about this story. Kinda sucks cause I lost a good worker. Oh well. Guess that means people shouldn't do crack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-1385529849900604967?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/1385529849900604967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=1385529849900604967' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/1385529849900604967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/1385529849900604967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/12/interesting-is-understatment.html' title='Interesting is an understatment'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-879032032463743485</id><published>2008-12-11T12:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T13:27:30.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This is why I hate holidays...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so, I don't really hate the holidays. Not too much at least. But, for the most part, I've gotten more considerate and passive about my disdain for this oh so special time of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love shopping. For me. I don't like shopping for other people. I just don't. It's not spending money that bothers me. It's the fact that every year I seem to be followed around malls by crazy old ladies. Because, since this week I haven't slept more than 15 hours combined, I figured I may as well zombie walk through the malls looking for retarded things that only come around once a year. Why does anyone need a Santa Claus shot glass set? Oh, that's right. So they can get through the season totally smashed all the time. Kinda like that time in high school...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a story told second hand. I was actually not involved. I was at the other side of the parking lot smoking a bowl at the time this happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step back 2 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because, he could get away with it, my friends Steve and Mike decided they were going to be festive. Every morning before school for the month of December. All the way until Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;How did they do this you ask?&lt;br /&gt;A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;liquoralender&lt;/span&gt;. That's how. Remember those little calendars that every day you got a piece of chocolate, or a little toy or piece of candy in? Johnny Walker came out with one of those too.&lt;br /&gt;A piece of chocolate filled with black or red depending on the day. Or perhaps it was just random. I'm not sure. But, really, one shot worth of booze? What's that going to do for anyone? So Steve also managed to keep a martini set in his car. 2 cups, and a shaker. Other paraphernalia also included... Christmas. At the high school level. Boozing at 7 in the morning. Because they could get away with it. Because it was still dark out. And we paid off a school employee. I would like to state that J.B. is still employed there. In case anyone cares to try that again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is a prime example, of how holidays should actually be handled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would also like to propose a new policy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than just the season itself, I hate the songs. I can not listen to Christmas music. I have the same argument with my mother every year about this. I get angry every time I hear Christmas music. This is not over reacting. At least for myself, this would keep the holidays moving faster. I would like to suggest that every time a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt; song plays a shot of booze should be consumed. This DOES NOT apply to radio stations that only play Christmas music until New Years. I will not be responsible for alcohol &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;poisoning&lt;/span&gt; again. If I'm out shopping, or walking around and happen to hear a carol, because I usually tune them out, I will write down on a tally sheet the respective number of said songs I hear in a day. Then, either before, or after work, (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;TBD&lt;/span&gt;) I will take the appropriate number of shots of whiskey. I will be taking a sign up for peoples commitments to the Holiday boozing campaign. Or hey, if you just wanna drink, and not count songs, that's cool too. Someone else has more songs racked up, that they shouldn't drink for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, since I've migrated far enough away from my original point on this post, as much as the holidays bother me. I believe I've found a way to cope. And this way is almost legal. It's about 8 months &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-legal. Close enough for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-879032032463743485?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/879032032463743485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=879032032463743485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/879032032463743485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/879032032463743485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/12/this-is-why-i-hate-holidays.html' title='This is why I hate holidays...'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-6042289231852134099</id><published>2008-12-07T11:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T11:40:28.049-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You have cancer, surprise!</title><content type='html'>As I drove home from some store a couple nights ago, when I was actually having a decent day I saw an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;advertisement&lt;/span&gt; on the side of a bus that said; "You have prostate cancer. Go to Roswell Park." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting. I didn't know that. I missed that memo. Hear that mom? I have prostate cancer. I'm just gonna &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;skedaddle&lt;/span&gt; over to R.P. real quick, get that all checked out, yeah, I'll get milk on the way home too. Shouldn't be too bad, right? I mean its not like I wanted to keep it a secret or anything. What better way to freak the hell out of people than letting them stare at a big purple death bus at 4 in the morning. "Hi, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;good morning&lt;/span&gt; world! I'm a goofy purple bus, and I'm here to ruin your day, or maybe week, or maybe even your life!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My personal issue with this is as follows;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you do that? Can you buy advertising telling people that they have a terminal illness and to go to where you rape dying people for money?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah sure, clearly other stupid things like, you're going to hell, or Bush sucks can be plastered all over something. But what about terminal illness that could simply throw someone into a suicidal spiral. Then consider this scenario.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Said person sees bus. Looses their sanity. And then is committed to a mental institution because they are utterly convinced that they have cancer. And they have to get to Roswell Park.  Could that person sue Roswell Park for all of the medical bills they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;acquired&lt;/span&gt; whilst being "insane" and also collect mental and emotional damages?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If, that is possible in any capacity, like $500 or more in payments, I would like everyone to know that I will be shortly declared insane. I'll be staying at the "happy house" for a few months. Then, I'll be filthy rich. And no. I see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;absolutely&lt;/span&gt; no moral problem with this at all. Stealing money from the health care tycoons is not a legal issue. Not in my eyes. And I'm insane. Remember?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-6042289231852134099?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/6042289231852134099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=6042289231852134099' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/6042289231852134099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/6042289231852134099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/12/you-have-cancer-surprise.html' title='You have cancer, surprise!'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-5010909196488997101</id><published>2008-11-20T05:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T06:33:18.562-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate...</title><content type='html'>So tonight being as slow as it was, I had some time to nitpick customers again. And, once again, it came down to the same two groups of people. One is the group of people that I would like to diagnose with "Fatitude" and the second, are people that missed the memo of what race they are. Each will be have a new one ripped separately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fatitude. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you Tom Rafferty for the creation, or at least bringing of my attention to this word. People with fatitude aren't always necessarily fat. It's a mental condition. The fact that this hookerish looking woman, with at least a quarter inch of makeup on got pissed at me because I was out of taco meat, and she had to be charged for extra cheese is out of my control I suppose. Listen, being fat is a job. A constant up keep of your own fat ass. If you want to stay fat, you have to make some adjustments. That extra cheese costing you a whopping Thirty Five cents isn't all that bad. It's a small price to keep that pants size rising you PMSing fat slob. And secondly, food takes time to cook believe it or not. Just because you're used to throwing slop in the microwave and bathing in it, which would explain the quarter pound of makeup, doesn't mean that I can do the same thing. You're paying me to make you a heart attack, remember? Third, the only person allowed to bitch about anything in my store, is me. And chances are I'm probably bitching about how you should go to a gym because you seriously, do not need to be eating something that would kill a small animal or child, at 4:30 in the morning. Go eat a salad. The economy is bad. And you're still getting charged the same price for all that extra fabric that you need to cover your fat ass. At least you're wearing clothes. If you weren't I would have to close the place down, not because you're not wearing clothes, but because the whole place would be covered in the explosive vomit that I would be spewing everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;Simply disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Group #2 the "I don't know what race I am" assholes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently the fact that you grew up in a privileged home, with disposable income means nothing to you. Your parents gave you money, and you spent it turning yourself into what would seem to be a "gangster". Minus the fact that you're suburban average white Joe. I would like to state that this is in no way racist. But I would like to point out a few major demographic and socioeconomic points to prove that, and give a better view on this to anyone who may not know where I'm coming from. Buffalo has the highest black male un-employment percentage in the United States, or at least this is what recent social graphs have shown. 51%. 51% of Black males in the city of Buffalo, NY are currently un-employed. I do what I can. If you aren't a moron I'll hire you. I don't really care who you are. Based upon that fact, people that do not work, do not usually live in the nicest parts of town. They live where it is cheep, and that they can afford on whatever income they do have. Regardless of race, orientation, ethnicity or social background. Hell, there are more white people in the Tonawanda projects than any other race. Back to the point. People in the city, specifically the group that I have mentioned statistics about, dress a certain way. Rap and Hip hop have always been dominated by the black culture. And, just like every other movement and musical progression, white people have tried to steal it. Face it. People in the city have a right to make music about being shot at, arrested, killing people and whatever other crap may have come up. This once again, is directly connected to socioeconomic status. NOT RACE. If the music that is based upon your culture, wears and dresses a certain way, the way to fit in, and not get yourself killed, is to do the same thing. It's not a social separation, but it is. It's not a bad thing, but when you start forgetting that you did not go through the things that people in different circumstances have, and you're trying to steal their culture, there is a problem. I would absolutely love to take a carload of these race jumpers downtown. Not the nice part. The part where my father told me to be out of by sunset. No questions. Sunset, you're gone. I don't care if you're on a church trip. Because the people down there sure as hell don't. That's what I was told. By my father. Who used to live down there. On that street. Unfortunately, I know that I would last longer in that kind of neighborhood, than all of the kids who think they're the shit because they have a G-Unit shirt on. Listen dumb ass, you're going to get mugged for that shirt because everyone down there knows you're not going to be able to do anything about it. If nothing else, an odd looking white kid wearing a black dress coat, with leather gloves, and who isn't trying to be something he's not, has a much better chance to make it out in one piece than you. Dumb ass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of that which ran through my mind in about 5 seconds when this group of douchetards came in, the black guy that works with me started laughing at them And, essentially reiterated what I was already thinking. Yep, white suburban kids, can't deal with the fact that they're white. Must be a shame. Or a compensation issue. Chances are it's number two. Kind of like that line in Shrek, when Shrek and donkey walk up to the castle. Shrek simply says, "Do you think he's compensating for something?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes Shrek. Yes I do. Clearly, there is some kind of issue. Of which, I feel no need to discuss here in depth. Cause, hey, if you're intelligent enough to know what I mean when I use "big words" like socioeconomic status, then, you're ahead of this moronic curve anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid race jumpers. They're so useless. Hopefully that jump is over a very deep hole, or pit, or well, or cliff, or traintracks or something that would make it a much better jump. For me at least. Last but not least, they drove a camero. They half assed the car too? At least get a Cadillac or some goofy SUV that you know you can't afford to put gas in anyways. Allowance isn't that much, I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell. That's been a long time coming. Feels nice to get all that out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-5010909196488997101?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/5010909196488997101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=5010909196488997101' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/5010909196488997101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/5010909196488997101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-hate.html' title='I hate...'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-8376742534325653084</id><published>2008-11-20T05:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T05:58:36.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm doing this meme because I disregarded the other one.</title><content type='html'>Line 5, page 56 of: Sir Elton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"in Soho and now had a virtual monopoly of white blues and soul acts, from Georgie Fame and Alan Price to Chris Farlowe and P.J. Probe. As well as the flamingo, they ran the Bag o' Nails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you go Jon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-8376742534325653084?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/8376742534325653084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=8376742534325653084' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/8376742534325653084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/8376742534325653084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-doing-this-meme-because-i.html' title='I&apos;m doing this meme because I disregarded the other one.'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-8269364710737356314</id><published>2008-11-13T02:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T03:04:04.806-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tamed? Really?</title><content type='html'>So today I was rather abruptly informed that I have been tamed. I fought it, I tried to find ways around it. Nothing. Its kind of nerve racking. I mean, I can't even legally buy my own booze. It's clearly not to say that I haven't, I mean my friends dad owns a liquor store. So, you know. And the fact that I know most of the people that own the bars, and work at them doesn't help one bit. I suppose the fact that I should've died by the time most kids were buying lottery tickets and porn for the first time is a bit of a side story. But that's not the point here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the point. I'm ok with that. I really don't have a problem with it. I've had my adventures, I've had my ridiculous nights. I've done stuff that people only hear in the worst cases at a free clinic at a hospital in a bad neighborhood on the east side. I think it's about time that I chill out a little bit. Or just all the way. Maybe not all the way yet. I'm still 20. As much as I thought I wanted to fight it, I really didn't. It's just one more thing that's happening at the right time. It's not even one of those epic stories, like a wild horse being put in captivity. It's more like, that horse has been relocated. Not held captive, but given a chance at something new and better. That other side of the land, that he wanted to see if he could get to, he's gotten to. And he likes it. More importantly, he's not going back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a couple things I plan on hanging on to. Right now I'm endulging in some lovely Prog Metal and Industrial music. That isn't going to change, as long as I can help it. But the nights of me waking up and having no idea how I got home, and whos shoes I'm wearing, have gone kaputz. And it's alright. Even though I've always been mistaken for being older, now it's time to actually put that into action. I'm growing up. And I'm not doing it alone. Which makes it so much better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-8269364710737356314?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/8269364710737356314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=8269364710737356314' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/8269364710737356314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/8269364710737356314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/11/tamed-really.html' title='Tamed? Really?'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-3559825352707479700</id><published>2008-11-11T19:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T19:35:23.366-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Steakout'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>Funny enough to poke you over...</title><content type='html'>It's kind of a shocker, when you end up doing something, or being in some kind of situation that you promised yourself, and others, and maybe even put money on it, that it would never happen. Or happen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;HAHAHA&lt;/span&gt;. Got you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago, my friend Mike, one of the 10 or 12 Mike's that I know left the place that I work at . Here's the back story; I got hired, I got him hires months later, I changed location, got fired twice, quit three times, he quit twice. We both came back and he somehow ends up being my boss. Anyways, we have a request off book. His last effort when he left a few months ago and moved away was to write in the book at the beginning of September, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Anth&lt;/span&gt; if you still work here now, KILL YOURSELF!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Haha&lt;/span&gt;. It seems I haven't done that yet, and not to mention, he called me this week to see if he could get his job back. He starts this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that sometimes not listening to certain people like Mike here works out for the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise I would be dead and that would upset a few people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main point here though, is that I win.  3 out of the 4 times Mike and I have worked together I've been in charge. Mostly this is just to say that I was right. And I usually am right. So the next time someone tells me to kill myself, just think about how it could suck for you in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This entry is rather pointless, but since it just happened 5 minutes before post time, and I had nothing else, it needed to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-3559825352707479700?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/3559825352707479700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=3559825352707479700' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/3559825352707479700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/3559825352707479700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/11/funny-enough-to-poke-you-over.html' title='Funny enough to poke you over...'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-7300440991257643509</id><published>2008-11-04T04:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T04:39:03.221-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Blog. Over there---&gt;</title><content type='html'>I have another one. Because I do. And it may be more bitchy than this one. So  go ahead. Go over to that side bar and give  it a shot. Just in case no one found it on their own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-7300440991257643509?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/7300440991257643509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=7300440991257643509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/7300440991257643509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/7300440991257643509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/11/new-blog-over-there.html' title='New Blog. Over there---&gt;'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-426007813717179318</id><published>2008-11-04T03:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T04:16:47.083-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Steakout'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><title type='text'>Oh shit. Catch that train</title><content type='html'>I'm the reason for a board meeting. Yeah. Take that other important issues and things involving, well more important things. I've been the cause of board meetings at church and stuff like that before. Thanks mom. For calling and having me put on a prayer list that gets distributed to dozens of countries and hundreds of pastors all around the world. At least I didn't end up in rehab. But talking to the district manager, and goofing around with him, he mentioned that "Oh yeah, that position you wanted. I'm having a meeting with the fat bastard about that this week."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh damn. My promotion (which I hope it is) is being talked about between all of the bosses that love me, and the guy I called an asshole the first time I met him. That's right. I'm damn smooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This meeting could actually hold my future in it. Long term future. The job that I get, wouldn't just be a job, it would actually be a career. Not to mention, telling people I work at a sub shack and pull down more than they do in revenue, would be nice for a change. I mean, sub shack. It's amusing. My whole life may have just decided that it was ready to take off and start going somewhere, in about a week. Maybe a little more. But mostly the week. I have this really bad counting my eggs before they hatch type thing going on, but honestly, everything just needed to wait and hit at the right time, to make up for all the bad stuff that usually hits at the same time. And usually more often. The patience that I've been trying to exhibit for the last couple years is finally paying off. In a few different ways. God's gotten me out of places I wasn't supposed to be in, bad relationships, bad jobs, bad situations. Even though they didn't seem bad at the time. There's something to be said about having the patience to wait through all of that. It's a bitch. Waiting, and almost growing apathetic towards everything started to take its toll. Then SHAZAM.&lt;br /&gt;Slap me in the face with a pile of, um, something nice. Not bloody steak or a baseball bat, or brass knuckles, or a chain, or broken bottle, or whatever else you may have when you're drunk and sounds like a good idea. I would've said flowers, but, that would make me sound more gay than I already do. (Explaining why I have clear coat nail polish in my work locker was difficult)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, the only thing that I really need right now, is prayer. That the fat man signs off on this spot, and that everything else falls into the place allotted for it before the world was born. It's got a good start in case you were wondering. Just a wrap it all up Jesus prayer and hopefully, all will be right in the world of Anthony.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-426007813717179318?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/426007813717179318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=426007813717179318' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/426007813717179318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/426007813717179318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/11/oh-shit-catch-that-train.html' title='Oh shit. Catch that train'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-5557958334687026917</id><published>2008-11-03T05:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T06:09:16.433-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Steakout'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soloutions'/><title type='text'>A new month</title><content type='html'>So, I pulled another one of those retarded shifts. Closing Saturday til 5 in the morning, then playing at church at 10, then not sleeping all day, except for that omen of 10 minutes that I was given. Then went and closed again. Retarded I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only being physically exhausted, I'm mentally drained as well. Before this weekend, I would take and physically throw customers out if they were too drunk or loud. I don't know. Maybe I'm getting old, which is probably a good thing, lost my drive to beat the hell out of people, or am just exhausted of this job. So I just decided to call the cops from the office and have all the drunks taken away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been about two and a half years or so now. On and off. I was fired twice, quit 3 times and apparently am one of the owners favorites. That's fantastic. My hours still blow.&lt;br /&gt;So tomorrow is right about when I go in to work with an agenda. Usually that's not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is work, but after this long, and still making way less than people that have been there less than half the time, and can only do about 1/8th of what I can, it's time to start being a bitch about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New developments may have caused me to grow a pair. Not just a normal one, but one of steel.  Tomorrow, I go in, tell them I want off nights, or I'm out. I don't really care where they put me, I've already been everywhere. I just want a normal sleep pattern, so that I can use my time the way I want to. I've got shit to do. And new stuff keeping me busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only real issue is that I have absolutely no fallback. That's a problem. If there was somewhere I know I would be hired at the same rate, just doing something different, I would wage a salary war between the places. Just to see what I could get.  So, I think that's what I need. A new opportunity, on the employment front. The economy is awful, so the only place that I can for sure get a job, is a place comprable to the current life sucking hell hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps there is a second issue. I like my job. I really do. There are just certain parts, like working til 6 in the morning and then trying to live a normal life. It doesn't work. That's why the fat bastard they put in charge doesn't work weekends, holidays, or nights. I assume I have more out of work activities though. And, I'm about 20 times more productive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conclusion: I get that tub of lards job, get more done, and get a little more money than he gets. Ill be happy. I mean, with how enormous this dude is, he's not going to be around long anyways.&lt;br /&gt;Those twinkies are going to get you. One way or another.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-5557958334687026917?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/5557958334687026917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=5557958334687026917' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/5557958334687026917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/5557958334687026917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/11/new-month.html' title='A new month'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-4138878372319272827</id><published>2008-10-29T02:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T03:25:18.067-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='morons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coffee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='waste'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='assholes'/><title type='text'>dunkinbeatstarbucks</title><content type='html'>You may have seen the advertisements on TV, or just in your local Dunkin' Donuts location. In a national survey Dunkin Donuts coffee beat Starbucks. Awesome. Congratulations. Too bad it really doesn't mean anything. There is only one reason that Starbucks exists. And it isn't good coffee, cause they don't have that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starbucks exists because people are assholes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People don't go to Starbucks to get coffee. They go because it makes them feel important. Spending $5 on a glorified milkshake that they put soy juice in (no way do beans get milked) upon your request, don't forget no whip. That'll make you fat. Why? So that you sound important when you go to get your caffeine addiction in the morning or whatever time of the day you may feel you need it. Go and chug a Mountain Dew, and accomplish the same thing. But it has been dubbed neccesary to go and drink coffee all day long, because "important" people do it. Drinking that coffee and acting like a stuck up rich bastard or bitch, when you aren't even paying for, your own coffee, your parents are, aint' doing shit for you. Why not go make your self important. Cause the damn coffee isn't going to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no, if you go to this place at different times of the day you'll see the certain types of assholes that make this place an example of how people can not cope with normality. They can't deal with having to go to a gas station and get caught dead with "Coffee that's been sitting there for God knows how long".   They want to be important. And, maybe if their boss, or someone they're interested in sees them in there it will boost their opinion of said wannabe coffee connoisseur.  And chances are if it does help their opinion of that person, the viewing party is also, quite the douche bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to do that. I would go and take people to Starbucks. It makes them feel important. And usually it was convenient because they're littering the nation like a couple of happy rabbits. And the coffee was super hot, so it stayed warm forever with that fancy environmentally friendly 60% post consumer waste hot sleeve, and the damn green hole plugs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drink a lot of coffee. And guess what. It all does the same thing. I usually run on 5 cups a day. Mostly from Dunkin' Donuts. Why? because it is right across the street from my work. And they haven't charged me for coffee in the last 3 months. If there were a Starbucks across the street, and they gave it to me for free, I would get it from there. Caffeine is caffeine. The fact that this was put up as a national survey made me realize why our country has no money. WE SPEND IT ON THIS BULLSHIT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why not buy people food and clean water with the probably millions of dollars you spent sending a lady around with a clipboard with 2 check boxes and color printing on that page. No doubt, millions of dollars were just spent to say a more media friendly version of "nananana boo boo, mine is better than yours!" What the hell. If I had the proverbial check that was written to do this project, I would never have to work again. Nor would my children. Coffee has become so big of a pop culture item, that advertisment firms creamed themselves when they thought up this one, in their conference rooms that they usually only hold circle-jerk conventions in. Well, the only thing I have left to say, is that I feel really bad for the dude that has to clean that soggy and sticky conference room with his gas station coffee. He could've been someone important in that room. If only he drank important people coffee. Too bad. He missed out on all that could've been. Only because he knows that it really doesn't mean 2 shits which coffee everyone else drinks. His gas station shit, goes better with the whiskey he has in it anyways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-4138878372319272827?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/4138878372319272827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=4138878372319272827' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/4138878372319272827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/4138878372319272827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/10/dunkinbeatstarbucks.html' title='dunkinbeatstarbucks'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-3506499149226506942</id><published>2008-10-15T07:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T07:53:10.711-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Drinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Steakout'/><title type='text'>But why is all the Whiskey gone?</title><content type='html'>So for the last half an hour, I've been trying to figure out what the hell my computer is trying to install on itself. Beats me. I spent another 15 minutes trying to figure out what programs were running in the background. No idea with that either. It's getting time to wipe this thing again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to the point now.  Today is one of those days that you tell  everyone was the worst day in the world, but when you sit and think about it for a second, it really wasn't that bad.  I worked at the Delaware location. People get mugged, shot at and held up on a regular basis. Not too bad. The night dragged on forever, 5 am couldn't come fast enough. It was going well, until ten to, when 10 people walked in the door, and wrecked my almost finished night. Pushing my getting out time to 515 instead of just 5. 15 minutes means a lot when you have to drive to meet someone at a specific time, and when you get there, they aren't there. So that means, I just drove 20 minutes, to turn around and go 30 minutes the other way. After all of that, and some other meaningless garbage throughout the night, I started thinking. And that damn Rolling Stones song came on in my car on my hour long expedition to no where. The only difference to the song "You can't always get what you want" that I would change is the catch line. And it would be changed to "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ha ha&lt;/span&gt;, you're actually almost never going to get what you want. If you ever do I'll be surprised."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't flow as well though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked with the sister earlier, whom I owe a box of oatmeal cream pies to, about having a good things do happen party. When I get to 10 on the nifty tally sheet I started, we have a party. She finished me off mentally by saying, "If you get lucky we may even have 2 parties in 1 year!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; You have a gift for phrasing &lt;a href="http://greenpanda419.wordpress.com/"&gt;Amanda&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now we get to the meat and potatoes of the matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long night. I haven't gotten the job I was sorta-kinda-in a whim-given. And won't be any time soon. Honestly, who lets a 20 year old run a damn store? I mean, they do a lot of drugs, but apparently not that many. Girl factor, terribly despicable is a good starting point. And, I'm not even playing music anywhere this week. So that means, I have open time slots, when I'll probably do something that isn't that productive. Like sleep for 20 hours in one day. And oh yeah, my aunt didn't die. She was kind of, let go. Columbia University sent up a team to, gather parts. Yeah, organ harvesting. Sounds like something right out of Alien. I know. So that's the most serious thing I have to deal with. But, after an hour long drive, from Allentown to North &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tonawanda&lt;/span&gt;, there was nothing left for me to do but have a drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE DAMN WHISKEY IS GONE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I wouldn't mind picking up some more, but, I'm 20, and I don't live in Louisiana so I can't buy it, and I've been clean for a few months now. And I'm trying to keep it that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So alcohol, has  become my new re-kindled relationship. Oh how I love whiskey. Since I have zero state of mind enhancers I'm working on hour 28 of being awake. Drinking tea, and listening to the Beck song - "Where it's at" on repeat, because it makes me feel a little more chill and cool in a room with dim lights and the sun coming up in the background, when I know I'm really not that cool. But chill is something I have way down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What set that off, it the fact that Jim, the owner of my company, the guy who's name is on the shirts, hats, signs, commercials, yeah, that Jim, called me today. He asked how everything was going, and after I went through a little bit of that, he told me to go and get myself a drink. Oh how I tried Jim. Better luck next time. And Amanda, today counts as a negative tally mark.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-3506499149226506942?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/3506499149226506942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=3506499149226506942' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/3506499149226506942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/3506499149226506942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/10/but-why-is-all-whiskey-gone.html' title='But why is all the Whiskey gone?'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-6290746514725167889</id><published>2008-10-09T11:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T11:37:14.246-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Normal Wednesday...</title><content type='html'>Until I found out that my aunt was in the hospital, with a massive brain hemorrhage and had little to no response to anything but a deep tissue pain test. Whatever the hell that is. I'm assuming its the doctors sticking a very large needle in you and seeing what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Back story&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;My aunt and uncle moved here a couple years ago from Arizona because they wanted to get away from the place that their daughter was killed. Yes. Killed. Hit by a drunk driver, thrown into a telephone pole and broke her spine in half. She died instantly. By the way, this was their only child.&lt;br /&gt;So, they moved here, and rather quickly became my new favorite aunt and uncle. Because they're crazy, and, well, apparently, that's how I like them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways. My aunt has had a fair amount of health problems for her age (I believe she's around 50, probably a little less) and has to make occasional trips to the doctors. Well, yesterday, she was found &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-responsive in her home. Was rushed to the hospital and has been there since. I didn't hear about this til tonight at work, the massive brain hemorrhage part. And more importantly, the, it's not looking good/probably not going to make it part. That's when everything hit. Or did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was little  death never really phased me. It's sad, people get upset, but honestly, what are you going to do about it. I've found out what happens is that it will hit me later. I didn't realize that my grandmother had died til almost a year later, when something that I don't remember triggered it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the issue. I've never had to stare death in the face. I found out after the death had occurred. I never had to deal with it just being around waiting in the shadows. So I guess that's what makes this a little different. Knowing that it's inevitable. But, just working that time issue out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of those times that you really can't hope for the best, because the best is not an option. So now, my whole family sits and waits. We won't be doing that for too long. Tomorrow, they just start pulling machines on a half hour to hour basis until one of two things happens. She kicks it, or it kicks her. How fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a great start to a weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-6290746514725167889?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/6290746514725167889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=6290746514725167889' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/6290746514725167889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/6290746514725167889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/10/normal-wednesday.html' title='Normal Wednesday...'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-8065653637849943433</id><published>2008-09-30T03:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T04:12:17.551-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Here I stand, 6 feet small.</title><content type='html'>So about all these different bands that I've been listening to, (take the Mayer lyrics as you want) It seems that even though music has become rather &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;disappointing&lt;/span&gt; as a whole over the last few years, there are still a few bands that have something decent to say, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;that'll&lt;/span&gt; make you think just a little bit more than you normally would. At least they've done that for me. So Joey, Mike, Kelly, Steve, Jeffy, thanks for this next one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of the above mentioned names, as a bunch of guys with a band named The Reign of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kindo&lt;/span&gt;, indie jazz, not what you'd expect from the most depressed town in the world, but, it works. So even though their CD came out a couple months ago, and I've heard the whole process for the last year, it's still sticking with me, this line. " I live in a castle no one can come near. And every wall was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;layed&lt;/span&gt; with bricks of mortar and tear."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's it. I think I figured it out. My reason for just being everything I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've set myself so far away from everything that I should be doing, by putting myself in that castle, made out of pain, and going through hard times. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; the mortar for the morons out there.  Here's the kicker line in that song though. "With every word you speak my walls crumble in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's still that one thing for everyone. It makes you want to start again. I'm going above religion here by the way.  I've done a pretty damn good job building myself that castle too, thank you very much. But, there's still those couple people around. Those people that with a single word, know that I'll do anything for them. Just those couple words, from those couple people, can either make me get up from a pit I thought was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;inescapable&lt;/span&gt;, or just put me right back down in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a problem trusting people, as much as giving everything I have, only to return with nothing. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;roller coaster&lt;/span&gt; that I live just keeps going, and those few words, from those few people give me just a little bit of smooth ride every once in awhile, or, make me wonder when my cart is flying off the tracks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am 20 years old. And still going, because, honestly, I am scared as hell. I have no idea what is coming anymore. And hearing over and over "Everything happens for a reason" and "It will get better" just don't cut it anymore. I'm requiring just a tad bit more now, cause, everything else has just gotten stale.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-8065653637849943433?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/8065653637849943433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=8065653637849943433' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/8065653637849943433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/8065653637849943433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/09/here-i-stand-6-feet-small.html' title='Here I stand, 6 feet small.'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-7710473792282473073</id><published>2008-09-27T06:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T06:40:19.640-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parties'/><title type='text'>Finally, a totally enjoyable night without worries.</title><content type='html'>So its been awhile, and since it's 630 in the morning, and I have nothing better to do, and I didn't even work tonight, I figured at least I'd do some of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I am God awful at beer pong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight was my first whole weekend day off in awhile, and so me and the day manager decided to have a party since, well, we never get to hang out. So, starting off at 9pm my night crew doesn't show up. Crackheads are somewhat unreliable in case you were wondering. After half an hour, they showed up and all the day crew could leave and go to a party with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every one's&lt;/span&gt; favorite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Steakout&lt;/span&gt; Belmont manager. Me. At midnight, Kevin, Alex and I were supposed to head to my place and have a fire and a few beers in the backyard. Well, Alex had to work all night, but Kevin was on his way down, so he came over as well. We're 1-2 in beer pong. As we ran out of cigarettes, we drove to the gas station and heard the band Heart on the radio. Automatically my sister pops into my head when ever I hear Heart, so I talked with her for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story starts getting good here if you're still reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our last loss, Kevin takes off, and the day manager and I convince our boss to stop by. He lives around the corner, so why not. Here is where I throw in that managers and employees at my job are NOT allowed to hang out, outside of work. We got them to play beer pong with us, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; right. A 40 year old man with a wife and kid played beer pong with me. And somehow won. I'm making the assumption that since I almost fell on top of the rather attractive girl that works across the street, at least 7 times, I was rather drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you go. There is no moral, no point, nothing. It's just nice to know that as much as the place that I work at sometimes pisses me off, almost all of my friends are there. I've had to grow close to all of  them, not only by necessity, but&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; the fact that they never let me down, as long as they can help it. For some odd reason people are drawn to me, at least on the loyalty front. I need to figure out why that is and exploit it for all it's worth. Why the people that I am in charge of will jump at anything I say, and why they won't do it for anyone else, unless their job is threatened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn. I guess I really can't write anything without trying to prove a point or make a statement. Anyways. Someone blueprint that why people are drawn to me thing so I can figure out how to make some money off of it. Thanks&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-7710473792282473073?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/7710473792282473073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=7710473792282473073' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/7710473792282473073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/7710473792282473073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/09/finally-totally-enjoyable-night-without.html' title='Finally, a totally enjoyable night without worries.'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-2851101142321516156</id><published>2008-09-09T23:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T00:26:47.119-04:00</updated><title type='text'>People like you, make people like me, drink.</title><content type='html'>So awhile ago, I decided that I should make a list of all the things that I need to write about, but rarely have the time, at that specific moment to write about, because, I usually am doing something that is somewhat important. So as I paged through this list I found the title, "People like you, make people like me drink."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of these people are what my bosses like to call customers. I prefer; assholes, shit for brains, and princesses. That last one I'm quite fond of calling the "bad-ass" kids that come in, with their rice mobiles and their girl friends who at first glance are cute, but when they get closer, oh damn. Not even if I was drunk...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the main point has nothing to do with most of these "customers" it's just people I'm around most of the time. On with the story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday I played at church, don't mind the contradiction for now. And had to drive a couple of my friends out there, because they were playing music as well. Their dating relationship has been interesting to say the least. Well, from the sidelines for the last 2 or 3 years it has been. So service ends, and I'm attempting to leave. But these two had other plans. Like arguing. About what they were doing for the Bills game that day. Who's house they were going to, and other stuff they had to do. Fine. Just do it on the car ride home. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ha ha&lt;/span&gt;, yeah right. While I walked my tired ass out to the car they continued eating pastry in the office, and bickering there. Ten minutes passes and I'm still sitting in my car by myself waiting for these two happily disorganized/lovingly hateful people. They are that couple that you still can not understand why they're together. I've been trying to figure that out for years, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;literally&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally they get their shit together. And by shit, I mean they walked out to the car. 20 minutes later.  By this point they have a maximum of 0% of their plans figured out for the day. Impressive. Damn impressive for people that should be able to tie their own shoes. But sometimes I wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ride home commences. They managed to have phone calls at the same time, and instead of being civil, they were, irrational. I can't call it fighting or arguing, because it simply wasn't. I don't know what to call it, other than just, plain, annoying. Especially when I was exhausted and was trying to listen to music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? wouldn't you just freaking give up already? Do you love each other? Then stop bitching, at each other. Or at least do it when I'm not around. There are enough things pissing me off at any given time. I don't need more. Especially when I'm being the nice guy and driving your goofy asses out to play at a church. Bi-polar lovers/haters quarrels outside my presence/listening distance please, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NOT IN MY DAMN CAR.&lt;/span&gt; Especially when my friend Mr. Daniels is hanging out in the back of my Jeep, doing nothing but calling my name because of these two children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I sat and thought to myself. This is why I do bad things. I don't like dealing with this junk all the time. I do it at work, and everywhere else. I thought my car was somewhat of a sanctuary for that. Guess not. It has recently been violated from the sanctity that was Anth's Jeep. Now it's just one more whine box with wheels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People like that, make people like me drink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-2851101142321516156?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/2851101142321516156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=2851101142321516156' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/2851101142321516156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/2851101142321516156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/09/people-like-you-make-people-like-me.html' title='People like you, make people like me, drink.'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-299234242254729889</id><published>2008-09-03T10:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T10:27:43.968-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The olympics</title><content type='html'>Sitting here after the Olympics are over, makes me kind of wish every day was like the Olympics. See, in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Olympics&lt;/span&gt;, there's no screwing around. There are no semi-finals or almost championships. You win an event, you are automatically crowned world champion for the next 4 years. I'm not one for a whole lot of competition, and I don't want my life to be like the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Olympics&lt;/span&gt; in that way, per &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Se&lt;/span&gt;. What I would like, is to do something once, and be done with it for four years. Haircut? Back in 4 years. Oil change? another 4. Working? maybe once every two years. But hey, most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Olympic&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;athletes&lt;/span&gt; have sponsorships to do nothing but train for the 4 years in between their events. In this country at least, other countries, its the threat of death. But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; why Phelps doesn't actually look like a human, he looks like some kind of jacked up crack head. Cause, lets face it. Only people on drugs move that fast. And, they only move that fast to get more drugs. Chances are, someone put a couple rocks  in the other end of the pool, and put Phelps in the pool 30 seconds after he started coming down. Maybe I should stop working at a job that has me around drug addicts all the time. Then, I probably wouldn't be calling this dude, who everyone else has named a national hero, a crack head. It's not like the dude cured AIDS. Sorry thats a little out dated. He didn't cure cancer. He swims fast. Congrats slugger! You can swim!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-299234242254729889?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/299234242254729889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=299234242254729889' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/299234242254729889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/299234242254729889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/09/olympics.html' title='The olympics'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-5751383115208370218</id><published>2008-09-01T23:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T23:53:30.685-04:00</updated><title type='text'>24 hours of work, in 26 hours</title><content type='html'>I just finished what may have been the worst jokes played on me ever. I'm calling it a joke, because that way, I'll be able to sleep tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been trying to switch to day shift ever since all the drunk customers decided that my car was prime pissing area. That was almost 4 months ago. Finally, I've started picking up some day shifts. I closed last night (6A.M.) and was supposed to work 3P.M. until 9P.M. tonight. Haha. Good joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day manager strolls, scratch that. Hobbles in last night. With a doctors note.. And can't work his shift from open til 9 when I was supposed to come in... Who is the only person able to cover this? Me. So lets get a time line rolling, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;7p.m arrive at work&lt;br /&gt;10p.m. recieve "My leg is busted yo!" talk with day manager&lt;br /&gt;11p.m. Call boss, get a 12 hour shift delegated to myself.&lt;br /&gt;12p.m. Start looking for booze&lt;br /&gt;1a.m. no booze. Damn&lt;br /&gt;5:30a.m Close store, take a leak, re-arrange the back seats of the Jeep so I can sleep in the parking lot so I am not late the next day/two hours from current time.&lt;br /&gt;7:45a.m. knock, knock. "Wake up pumpkin!" The last person in the world that you'd want to hear that from, my boss, is saying this, peeking his goofy sunglasses adorned head in my car. I thought I messed myself. Then he dissapears. I crash again.&lt;br /&gt;8:55a.m. Alarm. Go inside. Clock in. Start paperwork.&lt;br /&gt;10:30a.m. Store opens. I go for coffee.&lt;br /&gt;12:00p.m. Booze. Jim Beam to save the day. I have introduced old company ways to new employees. Impossible task34 finished.&lt;br /&gt;2:00p.m. Try to stand up from chair in office after half a bottle of J.B.&lt;br /&gt;2:15p.m. Actually get out of chair, start cooking.&lt;br /&gt;5:00p.m. Headache. Pretty bad. Crappy radio station not making it any better.&lt;br /&gt;9:00p.m. my assistant manager walks in. I walk out&lt;br /&gt;9:12p.m. Get home. Go to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;11:42p.m. Get rudely woken up by some phone call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently it's almost midnight, and now I'm wide awake and 100%tired at the same time. Un-explainable. Kinda. Maybe thats the hangover talking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-5751383115208370218?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/5751383115208370218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=5751383115208370218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/5751383115208370218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/5751383115208370218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/09/24-hours-of-work-in-26-hours.html' title='24 hours of work, in 26 hours'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-3271860522305598243</id><published>2008-08-30T12:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T15:33:01.901-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally 20</title><content type='html'>So I managed to hit halfway. Thats right, I'm 20 now. And I'm considering that a halfway point. With everything that I've put in myself, 40 my be time for my body to just throw out a big "better luck next time!" and call it quits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I've worked almost everyday this summer, cancelled two or three vacations, stopped playing music for the most part, even though I keep buying more gear, had little to no life and still, have nothing to show for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally getting out of the teenage years is nice, now at least I don't get clummped in with the teenage population, that I loathe as a whole. They're annoying, bitchy and think that they're so bad ass. I tried to start a fight with six of them at one time and they all took off. I didn't really care if I got my ass kicked, it was 6 guys, so at least would have made for a good story in the long run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point is, regardless of everything that I think I've accomplished in 20 years, really doesn't mean crap. I've wasted a score of years and, hell, all I have is a decent car, and a little less skin on my teeth than the next guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's gotten to re-evaluation time, because, that's what needs to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New job, new schedule, new people to win over and influence to better myself. No I don't have any shame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What it comes down to now, is that I'm 20 years old, have a crappy job, with crappy hours that runs my life, and I can't make up my mind. You'd think by the age of 20 that pair of decision making cojones would've dropped by now. But you'd be wrong. I'll still approach things that I know aren't right, time and time again. Just like an alzheimers patient. Only to be releaved by some super miracle that puts me right back on track.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on super miracle. I put in an order two years ago. Your customer service guys are slacking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-3271860522305598243?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/3271860522305598243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=3271860522305598243' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/3271860522305598243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/3271860522305598243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/08/finally-20.html' title='Finally 20'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-1285915654937778604</id><published>2008-08-27T14:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T14:50:39.272-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I had a nice blog written here. Then the site glitched. So I don't have time to rewrite, it'll come later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-1285915654937778604?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/1285915654937778604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=1285915654937778604' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/1285915654937778604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/1285915654937778604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-had-nice-blog-written-here.html' title=''/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-674807961642727584</id><published>2008-08-26T00:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T01:14:31.988-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange night indeed</title><content type='html'>So after being rather determined to try and "pick up" as it were, a girl from my friends cafe, said girl said something along the lines of "You have no idea how many customers have tried to pick me up today, and it's only 1 P.M.!" at which point another waitress chimed in, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Should've&lt;/span&gt; told him &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;you're&lt;/span&gt; taken" so after trying to talk to her for a little while, I grabbed my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Carmel&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Kristie&lt;/span&gt; latte and hit the road. Yes the drink is actually named after the girl, and I'm pretty sure is actually on the menu as such. Leaving rather &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt;, due to no ones fault but my own, I drove around thinking for awhile. What's the deal, am I really just that old fashioned that at the drop of the idea that someone is taken, I simply drop off the face of the planet, never to be seen again. Or is it that I just simply don't have a pair big enough to do anything about it. A pinch of both is what I determined. That was Friday. Jump to Monday. My friend Jessica is still, almost annoyingly pushing me after this girl, insisting that she's still single. Honestly, I don't know because I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; had a chance to check out that nifty ring on her finger that tells all. Pointing up= single, down=taken. That may be the only good thing I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;retrieved&lt;/span&gt; from my last actual relationship. Anyways, asked the sis about it, she said the opposite, so on that subject, still up to a flipping Mr. Washington to decide.&lt;br /&gt;At work, while I was trying to leave, my friend Scott, who is one of my closest friend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Rachel's&lt;/span&gt; ex, stopped in. Hanging out in the parking lot, a car pulls up next to us, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;asks&lt;/span&gt; us what we were up to, so we proceeded to state the obvious and say "talking over a cigarette" they asked us what we were doing this weekend. It's my birthday and Scott is going to NYC, the girls said &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; a shame, because they had a school date they needed dates to. The only saving grace was that I told them I was 26, and clearly too old for a high school dance. I'm 19. Anyways, they said they would be back tomorrow to see me. Creepy? Perhaps. But they were good looking, so what the hell. Me and timing, we're arch enemies. Now I have cafe girl on my mind again, and high school girls are trying to pick me up? That never happened in high school. The last person that tried to pick me up was a gay guy trying to get me to beat up his boyfriend and let him take me out for a good time. No joke. I've gotten more phone numbers given to me from gay men than from any girl that I've tried to get a number from, which at this point in time is, at tops, 4 or 5. Lame. In the fullest sense of the word. Lame. On a side note, which makes this even more fantastic, is that my friends uncle owns the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Zebb's&lt;/span&gt; location by my house, and needs kitchen managers. Almost double what I'm making now. And full benefits. Hopefully at least that can go the right way. I can only hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-674807961642727584?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/674807961642727584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=674807961642727584' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/674807961642727584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/674807961642727584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/08/strange-night-indeed.html' title='Strange night indeed'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-3846014882740304415</id><published>2008-08-08T08:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T09:52:54.374-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Relationships pt.1</title><content type='html'>So, because I have nothing better to do after I get out of work an hour and a half late (which translates to 730 in the morning and we close at 5) I decided to do a myspace survey. One of the questions was "Do you believe in love?". Clearly this was written by someone in the eleventeen year old age bracket, but that wisdom from the mouths of babes thing isn't too far off. The answer was clearly yes, but let me explain why. Along with all the factors in this. Because, it's 8 in the morning now, and I still don't have anything better to do.&lt;br /&gt;So let's start this off the right way. The world wouldn't exist without love. It's why we're here. God loves us, so he created us. It's a little out of order, give me a break. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for a love that I can't explain, because I can't understand it. It's not possible. So moving over time God loved his people, so he kept them around. Yes, I did just skip thousands of years in a sentance. We move on, even when you think that no one loves you God still does. Don't try pulling that " no one loves me, I have everything, I'm emo" bullshit here. I don't want to hear it. Maybe it's just because you're too much of a moron to catch on, I'll let it slide for now. There's always someone there, even when everything falls apart. I've had my life fall apart a few times. Theres still people around, especially now. I got pretty bad. I still have people everyday that I know I can count on. I love my friends and my family, because, no matter how many stupid things I do, they're still there. That's what keeps me moving on. Knowing that I have people that I need, and that need me as well, gets me through a day when nothing else will. I have a longing desire in my heart to have a family and children someday, but at  the same time, it scares me shitless. How am I going to take care of something that important? I have a hard enough time keeping my car clean, I don't even want to get into how much of a mess my room is. But, a kid?!? Are you kidding me? And even before that, a wife? By the way there are no correlations to the responsibilities of a girlfriend, and a life long commitment that you have to live with. Unless theres a problem, and you can't work it out. Abuse and such is allowable. Mostly its bullshit reasons, or people didn't think about it enough anyways. I digress. I can't wait for that responsibility, but I know I won't have it until I'm ready. Financially, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. And I don't plan on rushing it, only to mess it up a couple years in. Which I've seen happen way to many times. I want to do it the right way. It doesnt just happen. It's a process, one that I look forward to, and have to change myself over at the same time. There's so much love that we all have to give, but if it's not the right time, then you're just wasting your, and someone elses time and energy. Yeah, theres a reason for everything, but let's try to keep the mistakes to a minimum, right? I've had one legitimate relationship, and a handful of flaky flings, but nothing that I can actually call a loving, connected, heartfelt relationship. That's what I want. I want the responsibility, the feeling and everything that comes with it. It's one of the few things I haven't yet experienced, that I still need to. I'm still 19, almost 20, and I've gone through a lot of rediculous things, and stories that people three times my age don't have. I enjoyed all of it. But of all the things I've done, all the things I've seen, all the things I've been through, this is the one last thing that I think I need to do. And it's not just something I can do and write down in a story book. It's something that I have to live out for the rest of my life. And, I plan on doing it with more care and passion than anything I've ever done. Because that's the way it's supposed to be. Not casual, not half-assed, not pointless. Something that consumes all of you, and you want it to. So ask yourself before you just jump into another relationship, or another group of people. Is this really worth it? I don't want to discourage friendships, just, perhaps, encourage one of the biggest and most important decisions of your life. For everyones, and your own sake. And so you don't have to hear me say, "I told you so" later. Please, please, don't screw it up. By the way, I'm writing this mostly for myself, so that I don't screw anything up, and so hopefully, I can look back on this, and say, "Damn. I'm a genius. I'm glad I listened to me." Yeah, I'm that asshole.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-3846014882740304415?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/3846014882740304415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=3846014882740304415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/3846014882740304415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/3846014882740304415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/08/relationships-pt1.html' title='Relationships pt.1'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-6651504774967401388</id><published>2008-08-06T07:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T08:11:04.199-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The true friends</title><content type='html'>So now is about that time period, that I have to stop whining about the band situation. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; have, but I just wanted to state that for my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;safety's&lt;/span&gt; sake. I've gone through my problems with fake people, and fake &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Christians&lt;/span&gt;, and a couple other groups of people that I really can't stand. Now comes the point in time when I look at the opposite of all those people. The people that do actually care, and the people that I know I can count on to have my back when I really need it. These people I like to call my closest friends, and if someone screws with any of them, someone is going to get their ass kicked. Here we go.&lt;br /&gt;I work a lot.  And I mean a lot. It's not back breaking labor, its more mentally abusive labor. We get paid to slap subs together, baby sit the drunks, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;occasionally&lt;/span&gt; mess someone up real good. So you need someone who's behind you all the way in those situations. I love my crew. It's taken me a long time to be happy with them, but now I most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;certainly&lt;/span&gt; am. I'm the youngest, and I'm the boss. Most of the guys have about ten years on me. But they trust me, that even when I may lose it, they can understand why. I walked in last night to be greeted by one of the veterans announcing, "Hey everybody, our manager is here!" Whether it was meant as a joke or not, it means a lot that I can count on these guys, and that they respect me last night. The day manager pulled some stupid backstabbing bullshit, because I'm trying to clean up and won't sell to him anymore. (If you don't understand that, just forget I said it) So went on a rampage on my crew while I wasn't there, because he knows no one gets away with talking to my guys that way. I'll fuck you up if you even think about doing something to them while you're in my store. So to strike back a bit, I instituted some new policy at 3A.M. last night. It may be a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;asinine&lt;/span&gt; but they're backing it. Because they were pissed that the day guy dared to try and make their boss look bad. To my crew, thank you for having my back, and I'll always have yours. We're doing this shit until they can't take us anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the same list, are the other managers from other stores that I need to have around to help me keep my shit straight. Alex, and Josh. Josh has been my work conscience and guiding light for awhile, and saved my job numerous times. Alex, has single &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;handed&lt;/span&gt; backed me all the way back up from the bottom. Everyone needs some one they can trust, someone to help out when no one else will even try to keep up. Except for that one person that just keeps pushing you farther ahead than you thought you could ever do. 80 hour work weeks and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;bat cave&lt;/span&gt; are only the tip of that iceberg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we move on to the Relevant people. Well, the ones that still care enough to be around when that holy shit storm moves up on the horizon. Kevin, you sir are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ridiculous&lt;/span&gt;. I have no idea why you still hang out with someone who you know is going to do something stupid, and say something terrible, about as often as you need to take a breath.  Thanks for taking care of me when I needed it, and for not changing your mind when it really, can't afford to be changed. Next we move on to the recently, somewhat exiled, but still, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;every ones&lt;/span&gt; favorite intern, Amanda. You think that you haven't been around much, but you're around when it counts, and that means more than those half &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;assed&lt;/span&gt; people that show up for all the good stuff. And the next time you decide to buy a futon, and have me push it up three flights of stairs in a run down apartment building, and then having me put it together, at least give me a heads up, please. It'll make it easier on everyone. Love you big sister. And to wrap up, I give everyone the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Dayton's&lt;/span&gt;. I met Jon years ago, and lost touch until, very, very recently. But somehow over the course of, about a month, I've gotten more out of the talks over a couple beers and some cigars with Jon and Pamela, than out of any church meeting, or group, ever. I know life is busy, especially with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;ridiculous&lt;/span&gt; work schedules, and I can't imagine what having kids on top of that adds to your daily plate. But thank you, for taking quite a bit of time recently, to just hang out, and be a good influence, and just good friends when I really needed it. I can only hope that when I do get all grown up someday that I can have the family relationship that you guys do, and that I can try and get my shit at least half as together as you guys have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All these people, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;during&lt;/span&gt; the recent "shitting up of my boots" have kept me from totally going off the deep end. Thanks guys. There is no moral, or point to this post other than the fact that I'm bad at telling people these things in person. Thank you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;personality less&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; for that out let&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-6651504774967401388?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/6651504774967401388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=6651504774967401388' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/6651504774967401388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/6651504774967401388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/08/true-friends.html' title='The true friends'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-5173948025003782598</id><published>2008-08-05T07:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T07:40:43.408-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drugs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Steakout'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mistakes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soloutions'/><title type='text'>Turn it around</title><content type='html'>So apparently people don't like it when you tell them they're running a mess of a store, and if they don't shape up, that you'll have their job.&lt;br /&gt;I took off of work this week, so that I could play a festival with the band I was involved with. As you may know, that's no more. So I had to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;scavenge&lt;/span&gt; hours at other places, because my friends sister needs the hours at the other store I was running. That's fine, as long as that is what happened. I have a nasty guy feeling it's because I essentially told the store manager that if she didn't have certain things done when I came in (things she is supposed to do) I would have her job. Whatever. No big deal. So I had to steal some hours from my friend Alex, who didn't really care. However, it's put a proverbial "cramp" on my style. I have two days off this week. Which would be fine if I didn't just get almost a grand worth of bills in the mail. Which I wasn't expecting. I got a new phone, and no rebates yet. So there is $400. The rest I planned for. $400 may not seem like a lot, but, when you have to cut back on eating, and stuff like that, you feel that little foot kicking your ass all the way to the bank, cause you know you have no cash. But now that I don't have to take massive amounts of time of for a band that I have yet to get anything back from, I can make up that difference.&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who lost where I was going, here it is...&lt;br /&gt;THINGS WORK OUT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the truth. I got a nice reminder from Pamela today that I have about 4 days left to act like a little girl about the subject, and then if I don't, I think there was something mentioned about my ass getting kicked. Which I would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;absolutely&lt;/span&gt; deserve if I whined about something for more than a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;business&lt;/span&gt; week. Because, I operate on a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;business&lt;/span&gt; week, and a quarterly calendar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right. I run my life, coincidentally around the stock market. I didn't notice til someone at work pointed it out. So,  for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;dimwits&lt;/span&gt; out there, at the end of this month, I move on, or start 100% fresh. My first step towards this was cleaning up my act a bit. And I would like to make it very clear, that I'm not doing this because of the band situation. So far, I've been clean for over 72 hours. Not a big deal. Unless you've been hopped up on one thing or another, since, about, May.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I stand, waiting for something miraculous to happen. Which, is probably looking me in the face, but I have yet to jump upon said thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with people at my work having &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;children&lt;/span&gt;, and other stores floundering, I can only imagine the opportunity. My work is taking care of me, I got involved at my own church again, rather than helping out at the churches of others, which isn't a bad thing. Unless you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;consider&lt;/span&gt; that this past Sunday was the first time I've gotten something out of a message, in the last few months, whenever I was at my church last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To set it straight, I'm not a big fan of watered down, Jesus loves you and your crack addiction, and wants you to sell enough crack so you can tithe, and then buy yourself a Mercedes. Shit don't work like that. Maybe that's what works for some people. I can't see how, but maybe that's how &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; can justify yourself. I prefer a God that watches you, and tells you you're wrong. A Lewis Black God if you will. ex: "I can see everything you do and I'm gonna kick your ass!"&lt;br /&gt;Maybe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; a little harsh. But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; what gets through to me. And, I'm pretty sure God has a sense of humor, and was sitting up there laughing at me saying, "I told you so. Ready to do things my way?" And the answer ladies and gentlemen, is yes. Who the hell are you to think that you know what you're doing. Cause you don't. If you have to ask yourself that question, you sir, are wrong. He's just waiting for you to drop your garbage and catch on. It's not that hard. Try it sometime. I didn't catch on til about 4 days ago. So I don't have a whole lot of room to talk, but  the point is, as far off as you are. You can always come home to your true source of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, that point took way too long. Too damn bad. Suck it up and move off it. And maybe start listening just a little bit closer from now on. I dare you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-5173948025003782598?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/5173948025003782598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=5173948025003782598' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/5173948025003782598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/5173948025003782598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/08/turn-it-around.html' title='Turn it around'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-6099711948471788528</id><published>2008-07-30T20:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T21:19:52.742-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fake people</title><content type='html'>I've really had it with fake people. The people that think they can get away with saying things like, oh gosh, he used to be such a nice kid. I don't know what happened to him. But oh well, I can't do anything about it.&lt;br /&gt;Here it is plain and simple. I used to be a drug addict. A couple years straight. Nothing but weed, pills, mushrooms and acid. Did anyone in that time try to do anything about it? No. yeah, my parents probably almost sent me to rehab a couple times. And tried half-assed interventions. At least they tried. Everyone else, who I thought knew me well enough to catch it didn't. The reason this came up is because tonight I recieved an ultamatim from the band. I can't play anymore because I relapsed. Congratulations einstein. No one put two and two together. I had no money, never slept, and lost lots of weight. Everyone just kept saying, "Anth, you're crazy man!" not, are you ok, is something wrong. It made me realize that about 95% of the time, people saying they're doing things because they "care" is really supporting their agendas. Convieniently a new band member, who happened to just move here, and also happened to be someones best friend automatically was shoed in. Imagine that. And I was booted, because someone is worried about me and cares. Bullshit. That's right. I called it. And I'll call it again. Bullshit. I'm not really that upset about not playing, I'm more pissed about the fact that people use at their discretion, my age. If they need to talk down to me theres the "You're only 19, you just don't understand" or the ever popular, "Yeah you're 19 but you're operating on a 30 year olds level." I'm smart, I got it. Stop talking with the baby voice and say it straight. I don't like bullshit, I don't like saying it, or hearing it.&lt;br /&gt;So just to throw it out there, and put it in perspective for everyone here it is:&lt;br /&gt;I relapsed pretty bad. I could've bought a car with what I put up my nose.&lt;br /&gt;I've probably smoked half a forest.&lt;br /&gt;I cleaned out at least half a pharmacy.&lt;br /&gt;But, other people being gluttons, or porn/sex addicts, compulsive liars and thiefs isn't as bad. It's acceptable. As long as their friend doesn't play the same instrument.&lt;br /&gt;Yes I did make that point very specific.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it looks like it's time to clean out the trailer and get the $2000 worth of gear I bought for these guys back, and turn it over, or put it to much better use somewhere else. But wait, they still want me to be around so they can keep an eye on me and make sure I'm alright. Once again, bullshit. I'm a selfish person. I do things for me. If you've ever gotten anything from me its because you managed to tap into the heart of Anthony that most people don't think exists. So, I can spot that, they want a give take relationship. I give, they take. But all in goodwill of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh hey, look over there! it's rock bottom. Just seems to keep getting closer. We've gotten very close over the years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-6099711948471788528?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/6099711948471788528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=6099711948471788528' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/6099711948471788528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/6099711948471788528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/07/fake-people.html' title='Fake people'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-3775509502070232261</id><published>2008-07-30T11:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T11:39:36.135-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Working, and trying to live around it.</title><content type='html'>So, chances are, at some point recently, I've talked to you or someone you know about my utterly rediculous job. In Buffalo, our bars are open until 4 in the morning. Probably because it's such a depressed city, that we need all the excess drinking time that we can come across. Anyways, the place I work is essentially the monopoly on the late night food market. We're open until 5Am every day of the week. That one hour after bars close is when we make our money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, imagine catering to those kind of people. Drunk, high, beligerant assholes, who think you owe them the world on a platter, well, at least in East Amherst they do. So we're around to make them food, keep them in line, and occasionally, beat the living shit out of someone(that makes everything else, almost worth it by the way).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, put yourself in my shoes. You're young, somewhat of a prodigy at this place, so what do they do? Heap on the responsibility like an Eastern European Bloc grandmother would with a holiday meal. I currently run two stores, help at two others, and may be aquiring another. Stop. I'm 19. I can't even go out to buy the alcohol yet that I should probably be drowning myself with every day. I like the job, but most people can't relate to the environment that I deal with everyday. Everyone thinks they have a hard job, and some of them do. Live my life for a week. Do it for a month. I've been burned out since the age of 16, whether it was the narcotics fault or not, I haven't had a decent chance to grow up and have a little fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday, was the first weekend that I can remember having off, no joke, since April. It's almost August. So what did I do? I hung out with people, that I haven't seen in awhile, got a lot of my mind cleared up and was ready to hit work with all I had when I came back. God laughed at me on that one. It seems that I'm not allowed to have fun. I probably deserved that with all the stuff that I've put in my system over the years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after getting a little break, problems at work, get worse. More people quit, someone got indicted, and more of the company is falling apart. Who gets a phone call an hour after he goes to sleep, plastered? This guy. It's gotten to a point where my friend Alex and I have thought about getting buisness cards Stating: "The A-Team, we solve problems". It's funny enough, but seriously, when anything anywhere in the company goes wrong, it's like the Steakout version of the Bat signal. Example: New store opens, we open it and train and get it running well. Someone quits: we train the new people. Someone gets fired: we stay until the problem is fixed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, Alex and I opened our friend Joshua's store while he was out of town. We cleaned house. But while I was there, my window broke, and now it's getting fixed at some shady back alley lot on the west side, by one of the owners buddies. The saga continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like everything is falling apart. And I guess it is. But what keeps bringing me back is that little hint every once in awhile that someone actually does care. My birthday is coming up soon. And I still won't be 21, but, the fact that someone from this magical place that I work is taking care of the whole thing. I never make a big deal out of my birthday. I usually work. But, Alex made some phone calls to the owners making sure that I had off. He's arranging a party for people from work, and then a party for my close friends after that. I've only known Alex for a couple months. He's kept me out of trouble, and gotten me a lot more opportunity than I would've gotten myself. That example was a little specific, but the main point is that, even when you think that the world has let you down, and just to inform you, I should be dead from multiple over-doses by the way, something comes around. When it seems that everything has left you out to dry, you'd be surprised what new things can keep you moving forward. Right now, I have been up for almost 50 hours consecutively. I've polished off gallons of coffee, and gotten to the point that I have been shaking. So, I'm going to fall asleap and hopefully not be woken up by a boss, but a phonecall saying my car is fixed, or, maybe another one from someone else seeing what I'm doing on my day off next week. Who knows. Now I'm rambling. Goodnight&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-3775509502070232261?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/3775509502070232261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=3775509502070232261' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/3775509502070232261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/3775509502070232261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/07/working-and-trying-to-live-around-it.html' title='Working, and trying to live around it.'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-6578173324213849746</id><published>2008-05-21T06:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T06:44:31.395-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fallback</title><content type='html'>So, the last few weeks have been a little interesting. I haven't played a concert in about a month, and it's starting to take a toll on my minds rambling. Since I've had so much time to think about, well, everything, it seemed like a good time to get a rant out.&lt;br /&gt;The place that I've been working at for almost two years now is undergoing a corporate renovation. They're taking away my tip cup, which essentially is gas money, and are just trying to ignore the fact that they stay open because of drunks and junkies. The back of our shirts say "I see drunk people". That'll be gone soon. The little family owned place that has been there for me and all the other workers until recently, is turning into another McDonalds. Ok, that's easy enough to get over I guess. So move on to another job. Well, my friend Moe is opening up a place, that seems good enough to work at. And he needs people to make sure it runs well. I go in, talk to him, and suggest some people that I know can help out, and make the place into the kind of place that he wants it to be. Another cook and a baker to be exact. Both people that I work with now at Steakout. So, my friend Jess came in today to drop off some samples of the stuff she took to Moe (which I carted her around town to get the ingredients and recipies) and she told me something fantastic. Moe told her that her and the other guy were pretty much going to work there. And I might not be. Fan-freaking-tastic. The whole point of this was so that I could get out of Steakout and into another place and hey, even work with people that I like. Real quick synopsis. I do work, other people benefit, I get screwed.&lt;br /&gt;This has been happening for way too long. I like helping people, I do. Jess needed a new job, so I found her one. Moe needs a baker, got him one. Mike wanted out of Steakout, done.  Me, still at Steakout. Still getting walked all over, and starting to get back into things that it took me too long to get out of before. Now's going to be that time of year that Anth gets super depressed, super introverted, and more outwardly destructive than the rest of the year.&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's what I'm good at, and maybe that's what I'm here for. God doesn't throw things at you that you can't handle. I'm good at being depressed, I'm good at being walked on and used. I've grown accustomed to it. I'll bend over backwards for someone that I just met, because I value relationships. They're really the only thing that matter. Inter-personal matters are what I thrive on. I'll put myself in the poor house if you really need something, not because I like you, but because I know what you want or need is more important to you than it is to me. I thought about ignoring situations like that forever. Just move. It's not that hard, I've got bills, but I can get a job anywhere down south, because I'm from the north, and people down there are just plain dumb. Then some lyrics struck me. "If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself. I would find, a way." So regardless of where I move, or what situations I put myself in, I'm going to be the same person. The depressed, flakey, giant teddy bear that'll always be there when you call, and need something and your life is a mess, but that you mysteriously forget about when it's all good. Forever and always, on that downward spiral I fall. Whiney bitch rant done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-6578173324213849746?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/6578173324213849746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=6578173324213849746' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/6578173324213849746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/6578173324213849746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/05/fallback.html' title='The Fallback'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-1125973025803492276</id><published>2008-05-03T07:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T08:29:08.399-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hypocritical Behavior</title><content type='html'>Since I couldn't sleep this morning, around 7:30 I decided to take a drive around the village and try to clear my mind for the long day I have ahead, and maybe tire myself out enough to fall asleap for a little while before I don't sleep for the next 30 hours or so.&lt;br /&gt;While I was driving down Main street in Williamsville (And debated going to Batavia for the hell of it) I drove by an interesting combination of bumper stickers on a car. To the left of me there was a little Hyundai Accent with a bunch of political bumper stickers. That's not to out of the ordinary in Williamsville. Everyone has some kind of misled agenda, that they really can't support or defend when it comes down to it. The first sticker that caught my eye was a Jack Davis sticker that plainly stated "Save American Jobs-Jack Davis" Fair enough. Our economy sucks, its no secret. And the fact that most of the old industial era jobs are being outsourced to other countries is the main reason. But, come on. You're driving a God-forsaken Hyundai. At least with Toyota they do attempt to give back to the American economy by building plants here and opening a good amount of their own financial instituions (TMCC) in the states. It's put them at the top of the auto manufacturing chain. The only reason they've been flip flopping with GM for the past few quarters is that they can't produce their vehicles fast enough to stay on top, as where GM has more plants, workers, and car lines than is neccesary. They could lose Pontiac and Buick for sure. Chevy is safe, as is Hummer, and GMC, purely based upon the work American, buy American concept. Which brings us back to that damn sticker. Strap that sticker on a Toyota. I'll still disagree with what point you're trying to make, but at least they try. Japan owns most of the United States to begin with. So who cares. But Hyundai? Really?&lt;br /&gt;So where as people do we get off constantly and chronically doing this crap? Saying one thing, but conciously, or sub-conciously doing another. The brain is a fantasic thing. We can convince it to believe whatever we want. Think about it. If there's something you really want to believe, it's not overly hard to make it alright in your head. If I really felt that I needed to start being nice to people, and be considerate, I could probably do that. For the most part though, I'm an asshole. You say something stupid, Ill make sure you know its stupid. And Ill probably make you feel like a worthless piece of crap in front of people that you're trying to impress. I made it a daily ritual in high school. And even now at work. Your a moron, and here's why, in 10 easy steps. Now shut the fuck up. And keep your mouth shut for the next half an hour at least. Because you're that dumb, and I just proved it. And I'm 10 years younger than you. Anyways, back to my original bitchy statement. The kid in that Hyundai was a young college aged hippie looking schmuck. For me those people fall into the same general umbrella category as Agnostics. Which is the "I'm confused and I know I'm confused, and I'm ok with it, so that makes it all ok" category. Wrong. I don't care how confused you are, and how ok you are with being that confused. I still think you're a moron. How bout this. I think you're a moron, and I'm ok with thinking you're a moron, because in my mind you are. So essentially, I just turned you into a moron. And it doesn't matter what you think, because my mind tells me that I'm right. So there. Point in case. You can make your mind think whatever you want it to, which is how people can be "ok" with being so blatently hypocritical and not see a problem with it at all. Drive your  import and, hell, vinal graphic the side with buy American. I really don't care. But your still a moron. And I'm still going to call you on it. If everyone could be ok with bitching eachother out without getting your thong in knots then I'd be a little more ok with going out side durring the day, rather than working at night because I hate people so much. Who has a blog and doesn't give a crap that you only function on half a brain or less? Anthony. I thought we've met?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-1125973025803492276?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/1125973025803492276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=1125973025803492276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/1125973025803492276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/1125973025803492276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/05/hypocritical-behavior.html' title='Hypocritical Behavior'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-7381986588424653982</id><published>2008-04-26T05:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T05:55:49.719-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drugs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relevant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mistakes'/><title type='text'>Beginning of the summer tour season.</title><content type='html'>Last night, since its 5:30 in the morning and I just got out of work, Relevant  for the second consecutive year played the National Day of Prayer rally at the University of Buffalo. What's kind of ironic, is that at the same time we were leading worship, literally across the driveway or circle or whatever you want to call it, was essentially the antithesis of what we were doing. At the same time, UB was having "Spring-fest" which is the bringing in of the spring season, with partying, loud music and a whole boatload of debauchery. The simple fact that both of these events happened on the same day is something incredible. Two events that mirror each other, but from other ends of the morality spectrum, should tell us all something about the choices that we all have to make. And how they can affect the future that we hold.&lt;br /&gt;While Jon and Kevin were messing around with the new CB radio that Kevin got, I saw something that made this invisible division so much more transparent than it already was. I was outside Kevin's truck, and behold, one of the few people I've made it a point to block out of my mind strolls right in front of me. My ex-girlfriend Eileen, and a few of her friends were on their way somewhere. When I met this girl, she was the president of the bible club in her high school, and was extremely involved in the church I go to, of which she was not a member and even though she was raised Catholic, had a firm belief in the teachings that come with the particular denomination that I am a part of. Over the course of a couple years, I started to see the backsliding take place, the starting of going to parties, the occasional drinking. I knew the pattern, because I lived it. I guess you could say I started early by the age of 16 I was pretty deep in drugs, a boarder line alcoholic, and according to doctors, should be dead a few times over. It was hard to see this happen to a person I cared so much about. But you can only give so much advice, and it will only go as far as the person on the other end of it is willing to go. We eventually broke up, on Easter nonetheless. And the issue has only become more of the monster for her as it was for me. There's nothing I could do. I admit I said some things that were meant as help, but were taken as stabs at insecurities. As calm and composed as I tried to keep myself, emotions got the best of me and we haven't spoken since.&lt;br /&gt;So when  we went back inside, I ran into a few people that I haven't seen in awhile, a guy that I used to work with, who trained me and another that may as well be a sister. These people were going to the event that I was involved with. It reminded me that there's a reason I don't abuse myself anymore. I don't like those people. I was the kid that wouldn't try to, but would out-drink you, endangering myself just to say that I could. The people that believe in and are involved in what I am are the people that I need to surround myself. I'm not perfect, I do have a few drinks from time to time, and I'm still smoking after 4 years. I do my best to help who I can. But people only accept what they want to. Even if it costs them their lives.&lt;br /&gt;So after a long and drawn out reflection, that most likely ran a bunch of circles, I can look at what I'm doing now, compared to what I was doing only a few years ago and see how far I've come. It's incredible to see what God can do with such an enormous mess of a person, who used to only want to live in the moment, but has finally discovered that there's more out there than what you can see in front of you. Let the summer worship season begin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-7381986588424653982?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/7381986588424653982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=7381986588424653982' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/7381986588424653982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/7381986588424653982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/04/beginning-of-summer-tour-season.html' title='Beginning of the summer tour season.'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652492782017221312.post-3945635855495956461</id><published>2008-04-25T00:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T00:48:59.370-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Steakout'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relevant'/><title type='text'>The first.</title><content type='html'>As of the last month, I've had a few new developments arise, many of which I don't know what to do with. A couple weeks ago the band that I play in (Relevant Worship) had its CD release. It's something that I've looked forward to before the CD was even recorded. I knew what energy would come from the show, and how much everyone would enjoy it. There were about 1000-1200 people there altogether, I believe that's including the almost 60 person technical support team including 4 Band sound techs, 2 house techs, a video crew of about 10, and after that the other 40 something was made up of volunteers and other house production members. Music is what keeps me going. Unless there needs to be absolute silence, I'm listening to something. In those situations however, I have in ear monitors that block out, outside noise, so essentially I'm always listening to music. Some of the developments that I started to mention earlier would have interfered with that. Currently I manage a local food place that at night, when I'm running the show, caters mostly to drunk people and junkies. I started seeing one of the day managers a few days before my CD release and thought it was a nice change of pace from the work driven single life that I'd been living for the last few months or so. Everything seemed good, until I found out that she was an agnostic that believed in re-incarnation. I don't know how that all works together, but that's besides the point. Everything managed to nose-dive after that, and it was surprisingly for the best. I have a hard time letting people down, especially people that have seemed to take an interest in me as well. Somehow, God managed to work it out so far past my mind that, when I went to work today, everyone asked me what happened with Jess and I. I had no idea what they were talking about. But it further proves that even though we may try as hard  as we can to figure out the answer for a problem, God always has something interesting going on in the background. While I was trying to figure out how to get out of the pseudo-relationship I was in, God managed to work me out of it on his own. No problems, no hard feelings. Just, closure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose as my first post (because Jon got me interested in this blog crap) that this is a new beginning, the seasons are changing on the calendar, as they are in my life. At the end of the summer I won't be a teenager anymore. Something I've been waiting for, for 7 years. And I'll be returning to school in the fall to start making something of myself and hopefully not just fall between the cracks like every other musician in Buffalo and actually do something productive. Tomorrow Relevant is playing at the University of Buffalo for the National Day of Prayer. It'll be an official fresh start and will kick off the summer tour season nicely. Something I just couldn't do with someone that I don't see eye to eye on with my religion. Which is the most important thing for me. That's just something I can't ignore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7652492782017221312-3945635855495956461?l=relevantjew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/feeds/3945635855495956461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7652492782017221312&amp;postID=3945635855495956461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/3945635855495956461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7652492782017221312/posts/default/3945635855495956461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relevantjew.blogspot.com/2008/04/first.html' title='The first.'/><author><name>Anth K, the Super Jew</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05001761257795181891</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_I79a8ds_E9s/SBD2fr8XGmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ga9bpvB7xUA/S220/Rele32.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
