I Have I(rritable)B(owel)S(yndrome)

If only I lived on the East Coast, I could say that the new White Stripes album is out. But alas, I am a lowly Westerner who must wait another two hours and eight minutes. But that’s not to say I actually know of anyplace I could go to at said time and purchase said album. I guess a more realistic number would be about 12 hours. Could my life possibly be any worse?

So about a month and a half ago, on February 7th to be exact, I went to work and noticed that there seemed to be a little piece of trash on my front tire. Somewhat neon green was its hue. Upon closer inspection I realized that it was not trash, but tire sealant, and there was also what looked like a nail head next to it. I decided not to mess with it. It wasn’t causing me any problem yet and I had no “Plan B” for getting home from work if something did go wrong. I would simply buy a new tube over the weekend and be all dandy again by Monday. Needless to say, I didn’t buy a tube.

Monday, the 10th, I go to school. The MTA bus to get there on time leaves at 8, meaning I have to be out of the house by 7:30, meaning I don’t take the bus. I buy myself an extra hour of morning laze and decide to bike down to the VC. Nothing extraordinary happens on the way down. I notice that I am in better shape than I thought I would be after not doing that ride for nearly two months, traffic is also much lighter than at 7 in the a.m., and my bike feels slightly sluggish. A quick little pump before I head home should do the trick.

Class ends. I proceed to pump up the tires to about 50 PSI while talking to Tim. Everything seems to be fine. I start to bike home. Then up by Kaiser, Roscoe and Woodman, KABAM!!! Neon green shoots out of my tire, while still spinning, to a height of about 5 feet. I must have shot the nail out I think to myself. I also notice that some of this tire sputum is on my jacket, my leather one, the only decent piece of clothing I own. So I start to wipe it off and notice the stuff has already gotten kind of hard and is actually pealing off. I then look down at the bike and realize that the hiss of escaping air has ceased and there seems to be a clot upon the tire. Sweet, but I shouldn’t push my luck. I pump up the tire and continue home with a decent balance of haste and caution.

By the time I arrive home, I have sprung three more leaks, all of which have sealed themselves, and the tire pressure is down to only 35 PSI, quite a respectable reading for a tube with a nail in it. Here comes the amazing thing. I continued to ride with that tube, and nail, for another month. The tube finally died on March 14th. The valve stem had been asphyxiated by sealant. I finally replaced the tube yesterday, with a brand new Self Sealing Slime tube. May I never go slimeless again.

Today I moved my computer back to my room. It is a more desirable place for mixing and other sound stuff. During the process of rearranging my room for optimal use, I had to unplug all my clocks. Here comes the weird part. While setting them back to the right time I was listening to Styx’s “Too Much Time on My Hands”, and it was completely inadvertent. Cwazy.

I’ve been getting’ lazy on the blog. Turns out that I still am at the moment. Thus, this is not a real post. It is more of an I.O.U. I have material for a post, but I am too lazy to write one now. So, until I actually post the below topics, you may punch me. And by the way, the face and genitals are off limits.

Next week on an all new I Have IBS
•How freakin’ amazing are self sealing bikes tubes? Seriously.
•Have I become a Woo? Andr-woo?
•Why do I keep getting attacked?
•BatThumb man, BatThumb.
And so on.

Jorb.

Well, the SDL mp3.com site just reached a milestone. 1600 total plays at the time of this post. We are now like a perfect SAT. roXor. I believe the bands average SAT score lies in the mid 1300’s, like Carlos’ major. (Apologies if I got the time period wrong, but I am a slave to the simile.) In other SDL news, Tim is moving to Colorado for the summer, so I’m thinkin’ we’re gonna try to rush finally finishing up the alblum before he leaves. We started recording Oh Yeah! this week. Quite awthum I must say. Anyway…

“Scared! Can’t talk!”

Man, alcohol makes people so stupid. I’ve never been drunk before. I’ve never had any actual alcohol before either. The beer cheese soup and whiskey chili have on occasion passed my lips, but all the alcohol has already evaporated in the cooking process. Anyway, from my high horse it seems that getting drunk is a pretty selfish thing to do. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone who didn’t act like more of a jerk when they were drunk. Not only that, but drunk people just get so boring and tiring. Talking to a drunk person to me feels like talking to no one at all. People just seem to lose that thing inside them that makes them human. I guess the best way to describe it would be oblivious idiocy. It must be a pretty good feeling, even a great one, if you are willing to be an asshole to your friends for it. Anyway, sleep time.

Much to my dismay, Peter has not grown Brokaw's head on his shoulder. I suppose it would be hard to play the cello with two heads.

I spent the hours of about 1:30 to 4:00 a.m. this morning playing Tetrisphere. I think I have been infected with some sort of Woo virus. I should have known that getting free Panda Express out of them would somehow come back to my own dismay. Also, for the first time in my life last night I got a Fortune Cookie fortune that was not only way too specific, but just plain bad advice.

“Participation in sports may lead you to a lucrative career.”

What the heck is that?!! banXor!!1!11 The average NFL career is only three n’ a half years, and in that time the pay is only a few hundred thousand a year. Genghis man. I much prefer a fortune I had received at an earlier date.

“You may attend a party where strange customs prevail.”

Upon showing this fortune to my brother he promptly responded with, “Yeah… the Green Party!!!” That must be one of the top 5 funniest things I heard in 2002.

Nader in ’04. w00+1!