today, i was touched by a bum. it made me think, what the hell is up with life? a bum touched me and suddenly i had obsessive compulsive disorder and i couldn't stop washing my hands. now i have no hands; i washed them away. so i'm typing this with a pencil in my teeth. if my head becomes tired, i will move my keyboard to the floor and use my toes. they say i'll never play the harp again, but i'll show them. so anyway, a bum touched me and i was grossed out. but then i thought, why am i grossed out by an unfortunate? oh yeah, because he was nasty and his fingers were bleeding. but anyway, enough about the bum. i've decided that i'm giving up on democracy, and i'm gonna read up on anarchism. why not? it can't hurt to read a little, can it? i might be able to ween steve onto it to; they have anarchist comic books. he'll never know. so from now on, i read some more interesting things. did you know that vonnegut wrote about how he used near death experiences to interview dead people? hitler says he's sorry. i hate writing html, because steve o always points out what i do wrong. be quiet steve, this is my corner of your universe. and quit fixing the frames. so i close this article because i fear i have nothing witty left to say, and i fear that what i say has nothing witty. and i fear i may become redundant. and i fear i may become redundant. so watch out world, because from now on, i am here. this is offending stephen, see you next time. slightly distraught tonight. its the whole bum thing, i guess. but that's secondary i think...there's something sitting in the back of miy mind that i just can't place. it eats at my brain and causes my head to ache, yet i cannot place it. punks versus preps, one dead, one set free. it all compunds and eats at me, even though it odes not affect me. does it? could it affect me when there is nothing so much as a repercussion concerning my life? could it be that i might wish to be higher than that. could i some how feel that i am better than this? do i not feel spite towards things that are different? or is it that i recognize my spite? so much spite and confusion, so little understanding or comprehension. no one agrees on anything, not even myself. is the sky blue? i think not. a square knot. a running slip knot. it all means the same thing, that everything is loosely held together, and all you need to do is tug it the right way to pull it apart. or you could just use the scissors. perhaps im not making sense tonight...but are you? i can see the shadows on the wall, drifting as the leaves start to fall...im listening to bad religion tonight...why? because they rock, or so stephen says. jon's mattress rocks...if i was a girl, i would sleep with him just so i could sleep on it. but anyway, enough about my sexual insecurity. the topic tonight is abercrombie and fitch. do they suck, or are they just crappy? i feel that they are a little of both. i mean, you get high priced clothing that was almost definitely made in a sweat shop in ughanda, where they also happen to have the world's supply of pixy stix held hostage. but that's a story for another day. anywho, abercrombie throws their name on everything they have so that you can't walk around without having their label plastered on your chest, ass, or whatnot. and their clothes suck anyway, or at least the mens section does. and their pants? no good. can't buy jeans that fit, especially after they amputate your leg as payment. so i bought pants. should i buy the baggy fit or the boot cut? the baggy fit is loose in the legs and ass, but the boot cut has a larger leg opening at the ankle, while still having a slight taper by the knee. i want baggy fit with a wide ankle opening, damnit. and the pants reject your body if you are not wearing abercrombie underwear, and forget it if you aren't wearing an abercrombie shirt. the pants will actually castrate you, and then eat your bleeding, mutilated flesh. so, i say, boycott abercrombie, because frankly, i feel they are aber-crumby. ha ha! song of the day: again it goes unnoticed, by dashboard confessional. not bad, not bad at all. i recommend it; its great. but enough of my steve trovei impressions (naked), on to the "joe" stuff...aaayyyy! and whatnot. so, i guess i should clear up the whole thing about ughanda and pixy stix, because i know that all of you people out there who aren't reading this really care. its more about me just liking to clear up loose ends i guess. but anywho, the ughandan government, having nothing worth anything, took hostage all of the pixy stix manufacturers of the world and brought them to ughanda. there, they hold the world's supply of pixy stix ransom. in order to help fight the slow destruction of our culture and society, help me save the pixy stix. send a 5 dollar donation to: Save the Pixy Stix c/o Stephen Trovei, University of Scranton, Scranton, PA. look up the zipcode yourself you lazy people you...pretty la-ady! movie of the day: Young Frankenstein, starring gene wilder. yay. i would l ike to thank jon for his contributions to the abercrombie article preceding this installment. i would also like to note that the next segment will probably deal with the truth about redheads, inspired with excerpts from tom robbins' still life with woodpecker. anywho, my leg hurts. too much activity i guess...but anywho, steve's dad is here; he plays in the band. just kidding mr trovei! ha ha. so anywho, im gonna stop saying anywho. this isnt too funny tonight. or as steve would say, "hey joe, it isnt funny any night." ha ha steve, shut up. just kidding. so any...way, lets talk about something else. how about chocolate, peanut butter filled bears. they taste like heaven, if there is such a taste. does that mean they taste of nothing? aaaayyy! but enough with the banter, i've got to go to abercrombie and buy some pants that i will never wear. and they only cost half a year's salary! what a bargain! until we meet again... hello there offending stephen fans! im back and i am friggin antsy. i can't sit still but i don't have the energy to move...ever happen to you? no? well feel lucky, cuz it sucks. so the other day i was talking to my friend and i realized that my former roomate jon clubbed a baby seal this past summer. thats correct; you heard right. he clubbed a baby seal. he said that it wasnt for sport, but that the seal had attacked him in the frozen tundra that is connecticut. he then proceeded to pile drive the poor thing into a buick and use its whiskers for guitar strings. i already called peta; they are going to make some bread. ha ha. witty i am. so anywho, the baby seal turned out to be ok until it was turned into burt lancaster by an evil wizard. so, i send my apologies to the baby seal, and i hope you feel better. damn you jon! how could you do such a thing? have you no humanity? so, i was in my bed, trying to go to sleep on thursday when a little gnome crawled out from under my pillow. i was like, "hello there little gnome? what is your name?" and he said, "my name is Gushtalt. i live under your pillow." "Do you like it under there, little gnome?" i asked. gushtalt replied, "why yes i do, milo. i find it quite, how you say? ah yes, wonderful." "well that is good little gnome named gushtalt," i said. and then he climbed back under my pillow. the following even, there was a note on my pillow. it was written on the back of a stamp. i used my glasses without lenses to read it. it read as follows: "dear milo, i am writing to inform you that i have left for my yearly pilgrimage to the village of the smoking pope, the home of the knot gnomes. that is right, i am a knot gnome. i gushtalt, have traveled there in order to finalize my destiny, and become a full fledged knot gnome. however, you shouldn't fear that i shall knot your hair, for it is not the nature of the knot gnome to harm his keeper's bed. i shall only knot the hair of those who lay in your bed. i shall be back in a fortnight. signed, gushtalt." so i am awaiting the return of my very own knot gnome. he ties my shoes in the morning. until next time, faithful readers, remember that i shall be offending stephen. so anyway, my gums hurt. song of the day: lipstick, by guttermouth. "so i threw the phone at her head, but i missed and hit her in the snatch!" it doesnt get any better than that. i was reading the paper the other day with dj jonny t, and a headline caught my eye. MINI MERMAID FOUND IN TUNA SANDWHICH. interesting. so i read the article. it appears that a school of mermaids, mini mermaids at that, were swimming along, having gratuitous mermaid sex and one of them was pulled up in a tuna net. the man that found her in the net was captain james telebone. he sold her to an arab for six cents and a carton of smokes. the arab brought the mermaid back to the middle east and attempted to marry her, however, they could not find a black robe that would fit the mini mermaid so she was abandoned in the desert. while trying to survive in the desert, the mini mermaid, whose name was not revealed, saw moses and asked for a drink. so moses struck a rock and water poured out. however the water washed the mini mermaid away and she ended up in the mediteraneerernnfdkdnf sea. she then swam to shore and was found by, coincidently, my cousin gregorio. he took her home, but accidentally dropped her in the canolli cream and she wasn’t seen for a while. however, i discovered that the canollis were sold to an exporter and they were sent to america. a man found the mermaid in his canolli and sold her to martha stewart, who then accidently dropped her in a batch of tuna fish and served her to her friends. yes, i know its hard to believe, but martha stewart actually has friends. so that's the story. by the way, offending stephen the band has been born. yay.