Who would have ever thought that making a sofa could be so intricate. I mean, I'm about to denounce my citizenship here. Let me give you an idea for the ideas that I have, and the general premise I want to sofa to have:

• The sofa needs to have a sense of personality. It can't just be some traditional piece of, "Look, I'm a sofa, made for being sat on." kind of sofa. It has to be a, "I Know you want me, so I'm gonna play hard to get, but secretly I'm horny as fucking hell for your tight bosom!" kind of sofa.


• In order to achieve the oh so satisfactory sex appeal I'm looking for, the sofa will be of a modern style, with mid. to late 60s Italian design references.


• I want the sofa to feel inclusive. I assume we all know that when it comes to privacy in Phil's house, this bitch ain't packin 8 1/2 inches. Because of this, I want the sofa to feel separate from the rest of the room, like a place where someone can sit down and just get away form it all. To sum it up- I want it to feel cozy.


• I don't want to sacrifice design for comfort. It can look like some big Benjamin's, but if it ain't got the cushion for the pushin', it might as well go back to Reno.


• It must be relatively easy to move. Just like the people in Phil's house, everything gets around. And they best be easy, or it ain't gonna be pretty.


• With that said, it has to be small enough so that it doesn't restrict movement in the room to much, but it has to be big enough to hold at least 2 people, and realistically 3.

I won't be at Phil's this weekend, but the w. -end after that I'll bring my preliminary designs, so I can take input, opinions and polls, finalize a design, and possibly get to measuring.

And so my adventure into metal working begins. And woodworking. And a lot of other things.

LET THERE BE NOTICE:

I HAVE A NEW PROJECT!

As some of you may know, Phil's room is going to be overhauled over the summer. And for my part in the grand scheme of things, I will be making the new sofa. Yes, making it. I have not yet finalized my design, and I have not chosen wood over metal yet, but I am steadily getting closer to achieving the perfect mixture of artistic modernismo and cushy comfortness.
To summarize my plans in one fell swoop: I will design and make the best sofa ever. To my ability.

Who ever knew they could play 24 hours of straight up, uninterrupted Elvis songs. The King of Rock and Roll was blingen.

Starting this Yom Kippur: Racquetball is the new Football.

Think about this:
What if so and so person was your best friend. And then they suddenly turned up dead in their own home. All the evidence suggests that the father of the person killed them. However, you believe that the father is innocent, and the person actually committed suicide. You voice your opinion and are shunned for it, and loose all your friends and everyone hates you. The father is convicted and gets life in prison. 10 years later, some new piece of evidence brings the case back to trial, and the father is found to be innocent, and that the person really did commit suicide. Where does that put you in the scheme of things?

Anyone else hear about how Oprah gave everyone who went to her show a car? 276 people. And it wasn't some shabby ass car, it was a Pontiac G6, which starts at $21,300, but the cars Oprah gave out were fully loaded, so they should have been around $25,000. Do the math- to slow; Thats $6,900,000 she gave away. Of course, I doubt she paid for all of that, considering she must have said General Motors, Pontiac, and G6 over 1000 times throughout the show. I wonder how much those old ass BMW micro cars cost... coz' if I were to somehow get some sizable sum of money (which I won't) and get my parents to help me out with insurance (which they won't), I might be able to get a car when I turn lé 16 (which won't happen coz I'm really 5 years old at heart.)

Today I got home at 2:30 in the pm. From school. I GOT HOME AT 2:30 ON A REGULAR SCHOOL DAY!
Oh the joy of having 9th period free. With that toot said aside, I wish I could make movies by just recording dreams in my head. These suckers would be Blockbusters!

Today I got home at 2:30 in the pm. From school. I GOT HOME AT 2:30 ON A REGULAR SCHOOL DAY!
Oh the joy of having 9th period free. With that toot said aside, I wish I could make movies by just recording dreams in my head. These suckers would be Blockbusters!

I am the king of the tape measure!

Speaking of Kings, Were watching Dirty Dancing on friday, so bring your black lingerie and short shorts.

I here A.P. US History sucks...

I come home today and low an behold, Newsweek has a cover article on How to tell Kids "No!" (that being from a Parents viewpoint of course.) What pissed me off so much was how true the article was. It focused on how material kids are today, and how their possessions mean more to them than things that are truly important in life, like eating and fishing. But what made realize how accurate this article is was from experiences in my on life. I don't hold myself to an ideal, however I don't consider myself materialistic. Having said that, I also realize that materialism effects all of us. In my school especially, kids clothes and cellphones mean more to them than their own futures.
The problem with youth today is that they have very little sense of self. They require material things to define themselves. And someone could retaliate and say that anyone who owns anything is material, but I am specifically referring to those who spend excessive amounts of money or are in a constant need for these sorts of objects. I think that if society could just be happy with themselves, then all our problems would be solved. ALL PROBLEMS.

I would also like to dedicate this post to my two pairs of currently deceased weekend pants. It was fun while it lasted. I would also like to offer words of support to my current weekend pants which are currently going under surgery. In addition, I would like to wish the best of luck to the current candidates for my next pair of weekend pants, and may the best pair win.

Hot Damn! Only three, count em' three days of school next week. What a bute.

Speaking of butes, I wanna go on an adventure. I'm thinking of a quasi-triathalon, involving biking, kayaking and wheelchair racing. One of those may be substituted for something else, all I'm really looking for is a full body work out: biking for the legs, kayaking for the arms, and wheelchair racing for the soul. I was also thinking about tag team races, but I haven't really thought that idea through yet.

Do you ever have guilty thoughts? What I mean is things you know are wrong but there is some underlining logic behind it, no matter how slim, that slightly provides some sort of justification. I'm not going to go into any specific details, but let's just say that I'v been beating myself up thinking about mass genocide.

Someone that is like my cousin but not really but is somehow related to me is studying Law here in Chicago. Since my padres have been gone for the past week, he came over for dinner along with my second cousin who goes to Loyola. Being a Law student, he propsed this question:
A very wealthy man with no close relatives comes into your law office one day and says, "I want to make a will." In the will he decides that upon his death, all of his wealthy, money, assets, etc. will be donated to some really good organization, like Amnesty International or the ACLU or something along those lines. He signs the will and you verify it and file it away, and he walks out the door. The next day he comes back and says, "Tear up my old will, I want to make a new one." In his new will, upon his death he wants all of his wealth, money, assets, etc. donated to the worst possible organization concievable, like the Klu Klux Klan, the American Nazi Pary, or Bush Cheney '04. He signs the will and walks out. Right before you tear up the old will you here a huge bang. You put down the will and step out of your office to see what happened. Apparently the elevator cable snapped and the emergency breaks failed, and the old man plummeted down from your 15th floor office to the basement, wear he was killed instantly upon impact. He talked to know one on his way between you office and the elevator. Shocked, you walk back into your office and sit down in your chair. There in front of you are the two wills, both completely intact.
Which one do you tear up, the first one and let all of his money go to the bad organization, or the second one and give it all to the good organization? Both wills are signed and complete. No one other than you and the old man knew that the second will was made. Do you honor his last wishes, or do the ethicly right thing. Remember, you are a lawyer, whose emotions are supposed to be left out of his or her's work. The amount of money to be given away in the will was very sizable, and would make a big difference to the organization it was given to.
Chew on that one Oprah.