Racist ATM's on FSU's Campus!:

Everyday, I wake up, sober up, brush my teef, and head to campus to allow my professors to bestow their wealth of knowledge upon me, in hopes of someday in the distant future, I can use all this pointless theory to excel in my career - taking me to unforeseen levels of success within the FBI/NSA/DOD.  However, until that day comes, I'll be falling asleep in class listening to my teachers drone on about the importance of Algorithms within our daily lives.

And it's on these days of wanting to shoot myself in the face (which is a daily occurrence when you're at my level of douchedome), that you've got to have something to look forward to.  Something that drives you to get through the day so you can drop out of high school and make the big bucks.  Something that brings joy and laughter to all.  And that something for me is lunch.

Lunch is by far the best meal (and the majority of the time the only meal) of the day.  It's a time when I get a break from all the liberal hippies throwing pamphlets at me as I walk from class to class.  It's a time when I get to go out and make fun of this kid - The Douche.

The Douche is a good kid.  And as you can tell, a very white kid as well.  The ongoing joke with him is that he's a New Yorker.  Which is apparently extremely offensive to someone that continuously insists that they're from "Upstate" New York.  Personally, it's all the same damn state, so that's what you get Douche....You hear me you son of a bitch!?

Anyhow, back to the topic here...Lunch.

Last semester, during the semester from Hell (which will only be succeeded by the fall '05 semester that I'll talk about in a later post), we went to Taco Bell nearly everyday.  It was pretty bad...but it prepped up our colons to handle the ridiculous amount of alcohol that we needed to consume to let us forget that we live the shittiest and most un-acknowledged lives of all time.  After the Taco Bell phase, Jimmy John's was right next door.  And after countless orders of a number one with no tomatoes and extra mayo, we found ourselves in a new semester with a new group to eat lunch with.

The majority of the time when we go out, cash is the prevalent form of payment, naturally.  And to get cash, you've gotta hit up those wonderful ATM's.  Which brings me back to the title of this article.

Now, as we all know, FSU prides itself on being a multicultural school.  And the new statue that was unveiled this year shows that better than I can illustrate through my pitiful attempt at writing intelligently.  So for the sake of the story, here's the cultural break down of the normal lunch crew - in picture form.  Keeping in mind that all pictures are just going to be stereotypes of my friends, the humor should follow suit:

If a black friend goes out, this is them.

This is G. Our Indian, but British friend.

The Douche.

And myself.

So like I was saying, every time we want to go out to eat, we've gotta hit up these glorious ATM's.  Now, G is usually the first one to use the ATM.  It always take a good 10 seconds after he's requested his money for the machine to dish out the dough.  That thing just sits there going..."Now wait a minute here...This son bitch is a minority!  I'd better triple check his funds to make sure he's got the goods.  And if he doesn't, then I wanna make sure to give it to him anyway so he'll receive an overage charge!  And when I'm done screwing him in the money dept, I've gotta make sure to see if he's got a warrant out for his arrest.  I wouldn't want this minority out walking the streets a free, yet wanted man!"  And by that time, a good 10 seconds have elapsed, pissing everyone off that's standing behind him. 

The next person walks up, a black guy.  Same story.  That ATM just mocks him as he awaits it's decision to give him the funds to eat a decent meal from one of the many low budget restaurants on campus.

However, when I walk up there to get some cash out, the ATM practically just throws it at me before I've even put my card in!  I'll hit that fast cash button there and request $20 bucks.  And no joke, within a second, my money is right there in my hand.  The machine sees me and just knows that there's a trust worthy white male just waiting to be fed.  And BAM! the money's all mine.

Twaysive (aka, the Douche) is treated no differently.  The second he wants some money, the ATM wastes no time in fulfilling his needs.  In fact, after sitting by the ATM's and watching this phenomenon for a few minutes, I've taken the time to revamp SunTrust's Logo.

Apparently, I'm not the only one who has some beef with the so called "Trusting" bank.  As further inspection via google has produced quality images such as these!

Do you happen to see any minorities there?  Gee, neither do I.

The SunTrust Security team....All Whities here!

Nough said.

The proof is right there people.  SunTrust's ATM's are racist!  And now that I've wasted an hour of studying time for my exam that's tomorrow morning, I hate you all.

 Up and Comming...:

Three articles are on the way...!

First up, we've got an article on the Andrew W.K. show that's going on up here in Tally this Friday, April 22, 2005. I encourage everyone to come out. The show is on the Union Green and is FREE

The next article due out is an occurance that I've observed over the course of this past semester. The ATM's on campus are racist. That's right, racist...and I'll let ya'll know why soon enough.

And lastly, I've got several album reviews that I wanna get up here so I can do my part as a fan to spread the band names.

That's all I've got for now...I've got a massive Algorithims exam in an hour and don't have time to talk to you people. So feck off!

 The CS Lab Pt. 1:

Ahh, the infamous lab. In all of my away messages, as well as my nightmares, I mention the wonderful Computer Science lab. The place I go throughout my day because I'd rather sit in a dimmly lit room, than outside enjoying the sun and fresh air. I mean, shit, who needs a breeze when you've got AC?

So here are a few pics that will allow you to see what I see everyday of my life.

The door there is an opening to a pathway which leads you out into the real world. As CS majors, we try and stay away from that place.

As you can see here, Dickie and Dragon are workin hard there on their Window's machines. Or are they...

Further study shows that they are of course NOT working on anything of importance. Which is pretty much the way it goes around there. Nary does work actually get done. Fark, Penny-Arcade, Slashdot, Colleghumor, CNN, and Google are the most frequented websites around.

More to come as soon as I get back into Tallahassee...

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 FINALLY! - The Mail Bomb Epidemic:

So here it is, the LONG overdue article on the Mail Bomb.  I know I know, I'm a lazy sack of shit for taking almost a month to get it up, but there were some complications along the way.

Since I was unhappy with some blog software that I found online, as well as my inability to post things to the server at school, I decided to write my own scripts.  The scripting behind this shit isn't too terribly difficult, but for some reason or another, I kept getting error upon error.  And finally after a few weeks of debugging, it was ready.  So now all I have to do is go to a little page I have, type some shit in and BAM, it's online.  Cute huh?

But there are more pressing issues at hand, such as the huge fucking stack of mail in my hallway.

Now, I kept takin pictures to try and demonstrate how truly massive this is...but the size just doesn't show through in them.  So I'm going to try and put it into perspective.  This is the mail in my hallway:

It spans about 4 feet across and is an average of an inch thick.  (Plus, I've thrown a ton of it out because it was getting annoying.)

Apparently, I started writing this article on February 8th.  As today is the 28th, I've had more and more mail accrue in my hallway.  To put this thing in perspective, let's do a little math, shall we?

Neil's article was posted on November 30th, 2004.  Since then I've received on average $2.50 dollars worth of mail a day.

So that's $2.50 x 85 days since I received my first piece of mail.

That's a total of $212.50 worth of mail that has been sent to Dr. Jarae Sacman.  $212.50 dollars that companies have wasted sending the good Doc their products.  All ranging from high tech electronics to "How Islam Feels About Terrorists" to roofing samples.

That's right, roofing samples.  I had to sign for that bad bitch.  A $10 dollar OVERNIGHTED UPS package filled with roof tiles and a fat-ass book with tons of pictures that would make my home the "finest home in the neighborhood."  Pity for them I live in shit hole apartment in Tallahassee.

Other fine contenders in the bout to dive into the deep pocket book of Dr. Sacman are such fine companies as L.L. Bean, Craftmatic Adjustable Beds, and the eye pleasing "Antique weekly".  All of these bastards have sent me at least 5 pieces of mail.  Especially the damn Antique magazine.  What you've gotta keep in mind here, is these things are all advertising their companies in the best way possible that they see fit.  However, THEY'RE ALL IN THE NORTH EAST!  Sure, there's the occasional piece of mail from Wisconsin and California, but on the whole, these damn people are all in New Jersey or New York.  If there are antique shows that are in New York, and you're sending your advertisement to some douche in Tallahassee, Fl, you're obviously a fucking idiot.

I'll periodically post more and more pictures of all the damn mail that comes here, but for now, I'll leave you with a few of some of the classics.

Some of the first mail that arrived back in December.

All the mail that I got after Christmas break.  Keep in mind that all that shit fit into a little shitty college size mail box.

Keep sending me mail and you'll end up like ole Jamesy here...Who decided it'd be a good idea to come over to my place.
Sucks.
 

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 Mail Bomb post will be completed tonight!:

 The Mail Bomb: An Intro:

Since I'll be sitting in class ALL DAY tomorrow, I figured I'd put out a tease of what you can expect to see from the Mail Bomb post that will come out some time during the day.

Here's the first piece of mail recieved...

More to come tomorrow...

 NEXT INSTALLMENT:

The newest article will be on the "mail nuke" that the wonderful readers of Neil's Blog have bestowed upon me. I've got a wonderful assortment of pamphlets and packages from places all over the country all with a simple message on the envelope: "Here's the requested information!". More to come soon enough.

 INTRO:

Since everyone's got a blog these days, I figured I'd might as well hop on the bandwagon.  And since I don't have any fancy graphics for logos and whatnot, I'll just put up a photoshop I did in 2001 for my programming class.

On the left are some links to shit around the "blog", if you will.  Enjoy.

Posted: 12/31/04

EXPLANATION/SIERRA MIST CHALLENGE:

Well, here's the low down on the Sierra Mist Challenge, before you go clickin away.  A few years back over the summer when I was a valued employee of Circuit City back in Clearwater, I challenged John Wright to a drink off.  This was after my freshman year of college, and alcohol and I weren't best buds just yet.  The challenge was that I could drink more Sierra Mist in a night than he could Natty.

Now, this little skirmish never really got off the ground.  Mainly due to us just being so damn lazy we didn't actually wanna spend the effort into setting something like this up.  Plus, we didn't really have any good ways to document such a monumental occasion.

But low and behold, times have changed.  I've got a digital camera now and Fraser is still a faggot.  But one night, we decide after quite a bit of drinking that the challenge needed to be reinstated.  So Fraser, the fruit that he is, decided that he was the worthy opponent.

The rules of this engagement were simple, though they weren't decided until about 5 minutes before we started drinking.

1. There were four hours allotted for this competition of strength and perseverance (9 PM - 1 AM).

2. First person to finish the 12-pack was declared the temporary winner.

3. If you puke, you lose.

4. On top of finishing the 12-pack first, the person who drank the most, wins at life.

And then hilarity ensued.

After the first can, we already knew that having this challenge was a terrible, terrible idea.  But we maintained and took one for the team.

The resulting pictures found here will show you that our suspicions were correct.  Enjoy.  And be forewarned, these pictures are both funny and kinda gross.