Here's an entry to keep the impending wolves off my back. 

A few minutes ago I was just thinking about something and I just had to write it down, no its not gonna be some corny diatribe where I wonder about life, no kiddies, I just wonder if the Queen of England knows what shes doing when she "knights" someone. 

In the olden days (i'm talking about the middle ages not the 1960's), the main purpose of a knight was to defend the queen or kill the queen if he was a black knight... unless that "black knight" was Martin Lawrence in which case that black knight would just be gettin his mak on " in king Arthur's court (he made a movie called Black Knight and that was the plot, I'm not a racist).  Anyways if you look at some of the people that the queen has knighted today, they aint exactly Sir Lancelots, heck they aren't even the little known Sir Rosenbergs (the kosher knight). 

I mean lets say the queen were to be attacked by a pack of rabid guinea pigs, which noble knight would be there to save her?  Sir Elton John?  I'm sorry but singing "Tiny Dancer" while wearing a fedora and big sunglasses aint gonna calm a pack of rabid man/queen eating guinea pigs, trust me I know.  And what if the queen were taken hostage by a group of elite digruntled postmen (who are all wearing the little short shorts) on top of the Eiffel Tower huh?, I don't think Sir Mick Jagger would be sober enough to even get out of bed let alone scale a tower and fight off disgruntled postmen... maybe a group of unhappy flight attendents, but not a group of disgruntled postmen, damn they're scary.  Hell I dont think Mick Jagger knows where he eve is at this moment.  And who would be his faithful steed, Keith Richards?  Sir DruggedUpALot?  Why not make knights out of people who can actually be called on to protect you, not panzy musicians who would cry over a broken nail or a particulary precious looking sunset. 

We need some tough mofos as knights.  How does Sir Mr. T sound?  Common he'd have three freakn titles (Mr., Sir and the King of Kicken Ass!) and I'd seriously pity the fool, postman or guinea pig who messed with the queen.  Or perhaps Sir Jackie Chan?  Honestly if the queen was in a room full of ninjas, on steroids, with chainsaw's trying to kill her and all there was to defend her was a tricycle and an ice cream cone, who would you want , Sir Paul McCartney, or Sir Jackie Chan?  Now if maybe it was a throng of overzealous Beatles fans, Paul could seronade them with "I am the eggman, I am the walrus, kukukachoo."  Kukukachoo indeed.  Thats all for tonite, enjoy your Monday and if you see me falling asleep in class, wake me up...wait actually on second thought if you see me in class tell me to go home because who needs school anyway when I'm wasting valuable xanga writing time? Once again a speedy recovery to JG and shalom.

Deep Though of the Entry: I remember how, in college, I got this part-time job as a circus clown, and how the children would laugh and laugh at me. I vowed, then and there, that I would get revenge. 

The following entry was brought to you Webassign, the evil corporation that tortures me every few days.  (They fund Sadaam Hussein, spread the word).         

Dear god!  The xanga public has grown to an insane following.  I appreciate the support and the away message props, but what I really need is a throng of screaming girls running after me wanting nothin but a piece of me (a la The Beatles).  But the exact fuckin opposite is happening, the "Matt Not Sitting Home Alone During Prom" corporation is goin bankrupt, all I gotta say is: Ladies, I'm a damn good catch.  I'm still trying to recover from seeing the worst movie ever tonite, "Bringing Down Da House," with Mr. Career Suicide himself, Steve Martin.  Trust me this piece of crap will be the topic of another xanga, but just thinking about it now makes me want to ralph (or barf or throwup, whichever you want).  Anyway on to more important topics.  Tonight's entry deals with an important, serious and tragic issue which hundreds of people suffer from each and every day: people who don't stop talking. 

Now when I mean "people who don't stop talking", I'm not talking about a guy who likes to make conversation a lot, I'm talking about an idiot who you call up to get the (fill in the subject) homework and you end up getting off the phone at 9:00 AM the next morning with a conversation hangover.  We see this everywhere in our lives, and its not only an annoyance, its a debilitating problem that wastes the non-stop talker's time and everyone else's time.  The main problem with a non-stop talker is that they talk in this contiunous stream of words, I don't know how these people can go so long without taking a breath, do they have a respirator or something next to them?  I dont want to name anyone specific and other than the fact that they don't stop talking, they're good people.  But it can get very frusturating because there's never a pause in the conversation to say to them "sorry I gotta go now, bye."  Sometimes these people take a breath and you see your chance, you're in the endzone all you have to do is say, "oh shit I forgot I got a sewing lesson in 10 minutes, I gotta go."  But as you're about to ge the words out they just continue talking.  Even worse is sometimes you tell these kids that you've gotta go and then they basically ignore you and keep on talking as if you just said nothing.  At this point you feel like just cutting the phone line, going over to the person's house and stragnling them with the phone line.  

Though there are other cases where the "non-stop talker" is in the same room with you and you can't even hang up the phone on them if it gets to be too much.  in fact, you've got to keep eye contact with these sick people  as they go on and on about endless things like "demonstratives and musical works by Mozart".  If you should even break eye contact with the person, it gets downright awkward.  There's a certain "instructor" in our school who has a severe case of this and it results in a 40 minute period being wasted on 6 questions four of them being can I go to the bathroom? (Robby, Gabi and Allen should know who I'm talking about).   

There are many ways to deal with these sad individuals, one is to just zone out while they're speaking.  I recommend thinking about girls (or guys if you're "different" like that) and/or cars and/or soda.  This way you don't have to listen to the long talker and you get to see an image of Carmen Electra in a Ferrari drinking a diet Coke (shameless plug).  Another way to deal with the problem is to pretend to fall asleep in mid-conversation.  Eventually the "long talker" will realize they've put you to sleep and they'll have no choice but to shutup.  A last resort may be to get up and just walk away.  If done correctly, it could result in the funny situation of the "long talker" continuing to talk to an empty space.  Feel free to bring friends over to look on amusedly as the "never-ending talker" has a conversation with empty air.  If they still haven't realized that you've left them, feel free to steal their wallet and/or their hat if they have a nice hat. 

Finally many wonder why these people subject us to never-ending conversations.  Well I think there are two reasons for this.  First of all if you listen closely these people say the same thing over and over and over and over and over, see!  I bet you got bored just reading that part of one sentence.  Here's an example:

"I really hate the movie "Bringing Down the House".  It was really awful.  Bringing Down the House is an awful moive.  I really hated it.  It starred Steve Martin.  Steve Martin starred in it.  Queen Latifah was there too.  Yeah that movie definitely had Queen Latifah and Steve Martin in it, yeah..."  I think we've all had enough of that.  These people get to sound like Rain Man eventually (yeah...yeah...definitely time for Wopner...yeah).  

The second reason is that these people seem to get upset if they run out of things to talk about.  Look if you call someone up for homework, its perfectly acceptable to ask people how their day is going and talk about recent events, but when thats over, I think its time to say goodbye.  To all you peoples out there who never stop talking on the phone or in person, if you run out of things to talk about just say "bubye" or "cya" or "peace out homie g," don't start saying "Boy, I really love llamas, how about you? (And before you can answer) Yeah I think llamas are freakin awesome too."   Ayways thats all I got for now.  I hope this lived up to everyone's expectations and if it didn't, I don't care.  I'm still gonna keep the xangas comin, but you gotta let me be "inspired" (damn that sounds so fuckin Hollywood) and let the xangas come naturally, then you'll get the best stuff.  Alright I'm out.  I'm glad to see JG feelin better and I wish him a speedy recovery.  Shalom       

Deep Thought Of the Entry:  Here's a good trick: Get a job as a judge at the Olympics. Then, if some guy sets a world record, pretend that you didn't see it and go, "Okay, is everybody ready to start now?"

The following entry was brought to you by LoNPWWTSACOBDTHB: "The League of Normal People Who Want to See All Copies of "Bringing Down the House" Burned.

The puclic is growing (now alex and muscles) and they keep demading for more updates so heres something to keep the rabid wolverines off my back. 

It was another tragic day last thursday when our gym class learned that the sport of emperors, dodgeball, had been stricken from the "gym curriculum."  Perhaps the best damn sport in the land is now gone.  And why?  No not because of the stupidity of some very stupid young ones, but because of the stupidity of America as a whole. 

Look I am the first one to admit I'm no athlete.  Im not weak, in fact I'm lifting every week so I'm feeling pretty damn strong (don't mess with me), but you'd think after playing video games for 12 years I'd have a little coordination...no sir.  I can do skull crusher lifts for my triceps, but lets face it, I can't put a ball in the basket for the life of me, and I've accepted that.  The problem is, America hasn't. 

Thats the main problem America's soccer mom's have with dodgeball, they have this irrational fear of little Dakota (it can be a girls or a boys name) of being pelted with dodgeballs and then breaking his/her pocket protector.  Hey, if your pocket protector is breakin cause of a sponge ball, your protector aint protecting your pocket.  The "United Front of Overly Concerened Parents" feels that all the big doffuses are gonna pick on all their little helpless children.  First of all that aint true, I myself won a significant number of scatter dodgeball games (where every kid is for himself) even when I was weaker and uncoordinated.  Second of all so what if you get out, losing is part of life.  What? should we all join hands accross America and call everyone winners.  Hey why don't we have Kobe Bryant share the MVP award with all the bench players on the Cavs, they can all be winners.  I mean why should we count points during games, we can just have a tie every time.  Then we can have mandatory "hug sessions" after every baseball games for those who struck out.  Oh wait they didn't strike out, they just had a valuable batting stance practice.  Okay enough about that, back to uhhh, what was i talkin about, oh yeah dodgeball.  

Thirdly, and I think perhaps my most eloquent arguement, dodgeball is freakin awesome bro!  (at first i wrote dude instead of bro, but then I realized it wasnt 1992).  I mean the whole point of the game is pelting someone with the ball.  I mean if u dont like the kid... pelt him, if the kid owes you money... pelt him then steal his wallet.  Come on its the classic gym event where you can throw a ball at a freshman's face and hopefully make him cry.  Its harmless dammit!  Hey, "United Nation of Parents with Nothing Better to do than Complain"!  Next time you say dodgeball is bad for kids watch a freakin game will you and see the faces of your children light up as they nail another kid in the crotch.  Watch their creativity flourish, as Dave prooved in the final dodgeball game at South when he went "Behind Enemy Lines" (now on DVD and Video) and pelted kids on their own side.  I mean what are  the freakin alternatices to Dodgeball, imaginary jump rope? pin the tail on the exchange student?  Red Rover Red Rover will boredom come over?  Anyway thats all I got: another big "get well soon" to my man JG, peace, im out, Shalom.   

Deep Thought of the Entry: If you saw two guys named Hambone and Flippy, which one would you think liked dolphins the most? I'd say Flippy, wouldn't you? You'd be wrong, though. It's Hambone.

This Xanga has been brought to you by "Matt Not Sitting Home Alone" industries, the non-profit coroporation set up to find Matt a prom date, come on he's freakin gorgeous and funny and smart and he just inherited $50 million dollars and a french chateau.           

Alirght the public (Alex) has been demanding for weeks fo me to update, sorry for the delay so here it is, i dont have much time you know, i got a lot of important shit to take care of first before xanga.  Anyways, i gotta watch what I say cause big administration is watching. Since when did thought crimes become an offense again?  WTF?  I haven't seen em around since 1984 (haha).  Big props from Brooklyn to elliot for striving thru this ordeal of oppression from both the scum of the universe and those who should have more sense.  Anyway enough writing about stuff that will get me an "indefinite detention" ie dropped off in the jungle somewhere to never be seen or heard from again. 

Tradgedy struck late Sunday afternoon as the Duke Bluedevils CHOKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! in a loss against St. Johns Redmen oops i mean racists (cough cough) i mean red storm (thats such a meaningless name).  If watching Duke make turnover after turnover wasn't bad enough I was sitting next to maybe the two biggest assholes in the universe.  One guy was litterally talking on his cellphone to one of his idiot friends the entire game while going (WHOOOOOOOOOO) like a little girl everytime St. John's Red Rockets (south park joke) scored. I offered him a dress to wear and told him i was sorry about his castration but I don't think he heard me over idiot number 1.  This guy makes Mike Tyson sound like Winston Churchill.  The whole game, the whole motherfuckin game, this bozo was yelling at the top of his lungs to the Red Drizzle players, telling them what to do.  i mean he didn't shutup once... ever.  And this einstein is sitting in the last row of the second highest section in MADISON SQUARE GARDEN!!!!! (which by the way tooks like a broken wooden shack compared to Cameron Indoor Stadium)  I dont know what this idiot savant (emphasis on idiot) was thinking.  I mean what did he expect, one of the St. Joan's players to suddenly turn around get a megaphone and yell: "Hey friend, yeah u up there in the upperdeck, section 316, row k seat 12, yeah u. Thanks for telling me to "make a 3 pointer already", even though you called me a lazy asshole ten minutes ago.  Smart thinking.  Hey I can barely hear you, but why dont u come on down and be our new head coach.  I mean you seem to know what we should have done on each play after the play has already ended, ur hindsight is 20/20!"  Anyway losing to a team that had these morons as their alums was even more embarassing.  At least the Duke players have actual jobs waiting for them cause of their degree after they dont get selected in the draft (Dahantay Jones wont have to worry about this though).  Though I must say there are definitely a few exceptions: Mr. John Liotta, greatest graduate of St. Johnny's ever and a king among men and Chris Mullin is okay in my book and many other fine St. Johns alums so dont get offended cause im making fun of these two bimbos.

Okay this entry is seriously cutting into my econ studying time and I want to do well on my econ test tomorrow (thats right "econ" "test", not "e-contest").  I hope you enjoyed my ramblings and there is no need to inform me of the horrible game J.J. reddick had, I was well aware.  Keep on fighting the power munny, nice to see you back in action and a big "get well soon" to my man JG.  Till next time, shalom.

Deep Thought of the Entry: Consider the daffodil. And while you're doing that, I'll be over here, looking through your stuff. 

The following entry was brought to you by Verizon... Matt owns sotck in it so buy up!!! (please i need the money, those Merril Lynch brokers are gonna break my thumbs, HELP ME!!!) 

Shit, my first xanga, I promised myself i was never gonna do this crap... but I lied.  This stuff has now become more of a means of communication than IM's, what the fuck?  I mean IM's aint quick enough anymore?  It takes less than one freakin second.  Anyways, you may have noticed that this is under the name Makman, not my birth name, Yanks9999.  I know this may come as a shock to many, but some bastard already took yanks9999.  When I find who did that I'm gonna rip his skull off and use his brains to paint my house.  Whoa, calm down there.  Anyway murph suggested that it may have been none other than Derek Jeter who took the holy name, I doubt it.  Jeter's been like a brother to me and would never do that.  The man is a saint, so what if he only gives 109% and not 110% like the boss wants?  He'd never hate on a true Yankee fan.  Anyway, this aint gonna be some daily crap, but I will air any grievences and/or good stories I hear.  One upcoming outlash may be at any soccer mom who wants to criticize Allen's upcoming Southerner article.  I'm ready to give some overprotective parent who wants the Southerner to be about hugs and kisses a piece of my mind.  I've been told by people that I can be funny at times, probably only to get me to lend them money, but anyways I've been intrigued and maybe I'll make some more posts. 

In the words of Verne Schillenger's (the head neo-nazi in Oz) wife: Shalom.