it's all about moderation, you guys

this is what happens when you are a tiny moth and you try to drink an entire glass of orange juice.
let this moth's death serve as a reminder to us all: pace yourself.

i wrote a haiku

Haikus are so easy.
Anyone can write haikus.
seriously, dude.

smiles

good news: my dear friend, Parsnip "pat trick" Rule, and i have developed a new type of technology which allows us to makes movies with each other while living on opposite sides of the continent.

this is for a contest or something. patrick filmed his part and sent it to me through satellite dishes and phone chords and outer space and a bunch of computers and then i edited it and sent it back through outer space and satellites and stuff to get it back to his computer. we have a couple of different versions of this video. all of which are awesomely, intentionally crappy.

you'll see the rest in due time. for now, enjoy this one that we sent in with an application for some contest or something.

D.E.E.B.

there are expiration dates on those batteries for a reason.

best news i've heard all day

thaaaaat's where crop circles come from. that movie, Signs, was full of beans!

when i was a kid

Sigur Rós - Untitled #1 (aka Vaka) from sigur-ros.co.uk on Vimeo.

i bought this sigur rós cd/dvd when i was a kid. in 2002. in 2002, i was a kid. and i used to watch this video fairly often and just cry and cry. that was my idea of a good time.

it's funny to think about now. but at the time, it was serious. i really enjoyed it. i was a sophomore. i had long hair. people would see my long hair and ask me where to get pot. then they wouldn't believe me when i said i didn't smoke pot.

it's funny though. i wasn't an emo kid. and i wasn't a hippy. i wasn't goth. i just liked being sad. seems a bit silly now. though i still like this video. and still occassionally like to feel sad. but now i prefer pump up videos. like this one. or this one that makes me want to start a band. or this one that you maybe shouldn't watch at work if you work at a lame place that doesn't like awesome videos with naked people running around.

blind melon

i was just lying in bed and i heard two girls talking. sometimes at night, i hear people outside. people walking home from bars or parties or whatever. i hear weird bits of conversations, sometimes people on phones, sometimes shopping-cart-people collecting alluminum, sometimes (more often than you'd think) people singing to themselves.

tonight i heard two girls talking about old music videos. one said "what was the one with the girl in the bumblebee suit?"
"i don't know," the other said, half-interested.
i shot up in bed and wanted to yell "blind melon - no rain!" but i didn't. because i don't do things like that. i don't talk to strangers. i don't even acknowledge strangers. even when i have information i know they want. i am a bad citizen in this regard.
but overhearing this bit of conversation excited me. for some strange reason, blind melon keeps popping up in my life in weird ways. especially since i moved into this apartment. i can't explain it, but there is something special happening betwixt me, blind melon, and this apartment.

the lead singer from blind melon was from indiana. i'm from there. michael jackson was from there. michael jackson and i share the same birthday. those guys are dead. i'm not, as far as i know. what do all these connections mean? probably nothing. but maybe something.

all energy flows according to the whims of the great magnet.

michael jackson was the greatest

that dude was the coolest. i always felt a little bad for him when people made fun of him. yeah, he got a little weird. but he earned it. that guy gave us so much. the jackson 5 was amazing enough in and of itself. but then everything he did in the 80s and into the early 90s ... c'mon. the guy was incredible. and the funkiest dancer to ever live.

at least now that he's gone, maybe people will lay off the jokes and forget about the bad craziness that came later in his life and they'll just remember the crazy awesomeness that preceded it.

i feel extra bad because my friend from work was supposed to see him next month in london. she's a huge fan. he kissed her on the cheek once during a concert when she was a kid.

madlibs are stupid!

madlibs are stupid. ... stupid awesome! beards are stupid too. when you can't grow them.

promote silliness

it's so easy to be silly. and it makes the world such a better place. so many common things just need a slight adjustment in order to become silly things. like these adorable miniature ex-presidents.

the prodouz zection

i have two friends who have birthdays today. they are brothers to each other.
their names are jonathanothon and nathanathonaniel prodouz. they were born on the same day, of the same womb.
they had a birthday party, on a night - just like tonight - exactly thirteen years ago. it was in their parents' old basement, which would later become my second home throughout the following few years.
anyway, at this party that i was just telling you about, i made out with a girl! it was the first time i had ever done that. and boy was i nervous. we were in the twins' dad's work room. there was a boombox playing whatever was on 96.3 the Edge. i remember that song "i'm a bitch" playing. she and i stood there for around 45 minutes, sparsely speaking to each other. then she asked:
"are you going to kiss me or not?"
i started to apologize and then it happened. her weird warm wet mouth was on mine, slobbering all over my cheek.
i had always thought that mouths somehow interlocked or something. i was shocked and slightly disappointed at how wet and messy the process was.
the girl broke up with me shortly thereafter. i was crushed.
the prodouz's birthday always reminds me of that.
three years after that party (ten years ago today), i saw my first dave matthews band concert. i thought, at the time, that the concert was as important a milestone as my first makeout had been.
now both seem pretty lackluster, as far as milestones go.
i feel like i don't have any real milestones. nothing ever happens that instantly changes anything big. everything in my life has always happened incredibly gradually.
anyway, it must be fun having a twin. unless your twin is a dick. like jonathan. just kidding. nathaniel's the one who is a dick. just kidding. they're both dicks. just kidding.

hold hands

look how uncomfortable and strange these men look standing next to each other, hands at their sides, unblinking, showing their teeth.
now imagine the same foto, but they're all holding hands.
this one small adjustment could make a subtly uncomfortable foto a hilariously awesome foto.
and thus begins my "hold hands in fotos campaign." the next time you find yourself the subject of a group foto, do the right thing: hold hands with the people on either side of you. don't draw attention to the hand-holding. just slowly grasps their hands. keep that awkward smile on your face. don't look at either person you're holding hands with. just hold their hands. and make your dumb foto worth looking at.

nostalgia is stupid

when i was a boy, we did not wear shirts to school. we never even thought twice about it. we'd just wake up, throw on some schoolpants, maybe some school shoes (maybe!), pack a sack-lunch and head out.
they were simpler times. no one ever locked their doors. there was no such thing as terrorists. people were just nicer.
now it seems like EVERYONE is wearing shirts to school and to work. you HAVE TO nowadays because you just can't trust anyone. it's a real shame. sure we have the internet and cell-phones and modern medicine and less racism and more information readily available to anyone and everyone. but dammit. i just miss the good old days when everyone smoked cigarettes indoors all the time, and everyone's parents physically abused them, and people died from diseases like "tuberculosis," and there were only 3 television stations, and there were soda fountains, and people were just nicer, and everyone felt safer, and we could go shirtless to school.

these damn kids today, with their nintendos and their fancy shirts ... they'll never understand.

2ooth Blahg Post

today marks schoolpants's two hundredth day of blogdom. this is its two hundredth post. right now. that you are reading.
think of all the things we've seen since the last landmark blog post. a man name rob braub came into existence, schoolpants t-shirts appeared out of thin air, dozens of art projects have been completed, the kid show for kids debuted with mild acclaim, a keyboard was purchased, and the apart ment has been explored.
but let's not just stand around patting ourselves on the back. let's take a moment to think of all the things we DIDN'T do in the last 100 days: SO MUCH.

get back to work!

dance party

this video is really cool. my friend amber emailed it to me. it's just a guy starting a dance party. not a guy bullying people into a dance party or even telling people about a dance party. just a guy, silently dancing, and by doing so, starting a dance party. it's funny and cool. and a good visual description for how everything in the history of the world was started: with one person doing something ridiculous.

doorknobs!

today, we're examining doorknobs found in my apartment. first, i found my bedroom doorknob. it looks like this: it's a pretty standard bedroom doorknob. if you accidentally lock yourself out, you can easily pick the lock with a metal coat hanger. we used to do that a lot when we were kids. we loved it. sometimes we'd lock ourselves out of the bathroom or our bedrooms just to prove we had "the touch" and could easily pick the lock. but sometimes it was tricky.
the next doorknob i found was on the door to adam's bedroom. it looks like this: it's a modern lock with a KEYHOLE, meaning you need a special key to unlock it from the outside. why, i wonder, did a previous tenant feel the need to put such a lock on a bedroom door? it's a real mystery. i assume it was installed by someone who was extremely suspicious of his/her roommate. or maybe a drug dealer lived here and that was the room where he stashed all of his drugs and money. or maybe the guy who was in charge of installing doorknobs, accidentally bought too many of the keyhole ones and not enough of the bedroom ones.
also, we don't have a key for this one. so let's hope adam doesn't accidentally lock himself out. i don't know how to pick key locks. i could probably do it with a credit card if i were a detective. but i'm not a detective.
here's what the bathroom doorknob looks like: it's a really old-looking doorknob. it has some paint on it. it has a lock but the lock doesn't work. which is a good thing. because if it did work, i'm not sure i'd know how to pick a lock like that. maybe that's why the lock doesn't work anymore. i bet somebody accidentally locked themselves out and then had to break it to get in.
here's the closet doorknob: it's a lot like the bathroom doorknob but broken in a different way. i wonder if the drug dealer broke all these old doorknobs. drug dealers sometimes are violent. according to popular fiction.

a laugh shared with a stranger

upon further investigation of the photos i took of the man in the big truck trying to turn his truck around on a small street ... i discovered that the friendly man in the blue shirt (who helped the trucker maneuver his rig the full 360 degrees) may have seen me taking photographs.
whilst watching the trucker attempt to turn around, i thought the man in the blue shirt looked up at me. my apartment has big windows. it's like living in a fishbowl. anyway, i thought we made eye contact at one point. so when i grabbed my camera, i tried to be sneaky about taking pictures of the silly trucker. but apparently i was not, in fact, sneaky. the man in the blue shirt seems to be looking directly at me in this photo. furthermore, he appears to be smiling, as if to say, "i understand why this is funny to you. it is funny to me also. this driver is a buffoon."

if i could go back in time to when i was taking these photos, i would've given the man in the blue shirt a thumbs up. to show him i'm glad to have him on my side.

bad spot to turn around

today this guy in a big long truck was trying to turn his big long truck around on my skinny little street. what a buffoon!

lunch!

this was probably my favorite lunch in college.

now it's my favorite lunch in real life.

i get embarrassed really easily

one thing that i don't like about myself is that i get embarrassed really easily. when i was a kid, if i did anything dumb, i'd just stop talking. for what felt like days at a time.
i kind of still do that. but sometimes i'm able to laugh about the dumb thing i did. and then other people laugh too. then it's good. the dumb thing became a good thing.

but lots of times i still do dumb things and then i just don't talk for a long time.

and sometimes, i can't even tell if the dumb thing i did was actually dumb. and that's the worst. because i don't even know if i should feel embarrassed. so i just get sad and nervous. and then i feel embarrassed that i'm reacting in such a wussy manner.

and sometimes i don't give a crap about anything. those are the best times.

friday morning garbage parade

every friday morning, from about 8am to around 10am, there is a steady stream of garbage trucks running up and down my street, eating my neighbors' garbage. this is how i wake up every friday: to the sound of hungry garbage trucks using their scary robotic claw to grab garbage cans and shake the contents into their hungry garbage-truck-mouths.
and my apartment exists in some sort of sound-vortex. so, any sound that is happening on the street below my apartment SOUNDS like it is actually happening IN my apartment. it's as if there are invisible microphones planted all over the sidewalk that record what's happening on the street. then those noises are amplified and played on our walls, which are covered in invisible speakers.
it doesn't make sense. but this is how sounds happen in our apartment. when people talk outside, it sounds like they're talking in our kitchen. furthermore, when garbage trucks run around all morning, playing leapfrog and binging on garbage, it sounds like they are doing it in the other room.

for your consideration

dear musician-friend:
if you ever make an album called "thank you abe lincoln," you can use this tiny painting i made as your cover art. or you can put it in the booklet. if you want. don't feel like you have to use it. i'm just trying to help.

you know what? forget i said anything.

i was just, ya know, i couldn't sleep, so i thought, why not work on some cover art for a concept album you might make someday. it was really meant to be a springboard for ideas FOR YOU. it's not like I'M gonna record a concept album that's a tribute to abe lincoln. and it's not like YOU would've thought of it without my help. and it's not like you can't just put this tiny painting in the booklet. you can print lyrics over it if you want. just put it in there. i GAVE you the idea for the abe lincoln album. just put my tiny painting in there!

thanks man.

nbc is the best

this is great. check at Yo Teach! starring Mark Taylor Jackson (jason schwartzman's character in judd apatow's upcoming Funny People) star in nbc's new heartfelt sitcom. check out the whole website that nbc made for Yo Teach!

nbc is the best.

sinks!

today we take a look at sinks found in my apartment. we have a total of three basins and two faucets. well, four basins and four faucets if you count the bathtub, which is pretty much just a big sink when you think about it.
but i chose not to include the bathtub in my special blogpost about sinks found in the apartment.
the first sink i found was in my kitchen. FUN FACT: the american slang phrase "everything but the kitchen sink" came from soldiers in World War II referring to intense bombardment. how frustrating would that be if you were the dude who first said that right after a crazy battle. and some of your buddies laughed. then it became like an inside joke with you guys. then some people in the mess hall ask what you guys are laughing at, so you explain, and those guys think it's funny too. pretty soon, you start to hear it everytime anyone's describing an attack. then the war ends and you go back to the states and everybody's using your phrase. you start to hear it on radio commercials. housewives are using it constantly. and you try to casually mention that, you know, you came up with that. and people don't really believe you but they humor you by saying things like "oh neato! that's really neat. bet you wish you copyrighted that, eh? har har har." but then, you're sure that behind your back they're saying things like "that's so sad. why is he trying to take credit for that? it's such a weird thing to try to claim." then you get super bummed out and people think it's because of the war. but really, it's because every time you hear the phrase "everything but the kitchen sink," a part of you dies inside.
and this is the sink in the bathroom.

pocket options

i like to have plenty of pocket options.
this shirt was given to me for my birthday in 2007 by one Andrea Estelle Getty McMinn Rule. she had originally purchased the shirt for her husband Patrick "Parsnip" James Getty McMinn Rule.
"it's too small!" he protested.
it's pretty snug on me too. but you don't see me complaining. i wear it to work sometimes. whenever i bend over or stretch in any direction, i can feel that some skin is exposed. and whenever i move my arms, the material rubs my armpits in an unsavory way. but i wear the shirt anyway. because it has so many pockets. and it makes me laugh. and when i put my hands in the lower-level shirt pockets, i feel like a dentist for some reason.

do dentists where shirts like these? why do i feel like a dentist?

on the bright side

things could be worse.

salute your pants

when i was a boy, there was a show on television called Salute Your Pants. it was great. i watched it everyday. back then, there were only five television channels: Nickelodeon, NBC, Nick at Night, ABC, and Nick Jr. and we didn't have remote controls. we had touch pads. they were these sensors we had installed in certain spots on the floor. so if you wanted to change it to Nick @ Night, for example, you step between the couch and the coffee table. want to change back to NBC? simply step one meter right of the windowsill.
Salute Your Pants was a twice a day, hourlong tribute to pants. the co-hosts, Ugg and Donkeymouth, would lead us on a journey throughout the history of pants. not just the history of pants. but also the future of pants. i remember one episode when they predicted that by 19/08/2007, pants would look like this.

dodger béisbal

last night, i watched a baseball game with these people (see above foto). now, typically, when people say they watched a baseball game, they mean that they watched it via television set. but guess what: when i said i watched a baseball game last night, i meant in real life. can you believe it? did you know that was even an option? well it is. the los angeles dodgers (formerly of brooklyn, newark) have capitalized on the recent "real life viewing" trend that is sweeping the nation. they now allow you to sit in the actual place where the ballgame is played (for a small fee) and you watch it without the aid of television or internet. the technology is still a little new, so it was hard to get a sense of all the action happening on the field (or diamond, as they call it in baseball) but i think they'll have those kinks worked out by the end of the season.

what is also cool about the game last night is that we sat in the All You Can Eat pavillion. i had 3 hot dogs, 2 soda pops, some nachos, a couple handfuls of popcorn, and a bunch of cotton candy. i sort of wanted to barf.

dogfight

this movie stars my friends scott, kienan, emily, and introducing Crash.

Crash is a crazy dog who crashes into things. that's why they named her that. one time, she ate a bunch of newspapers that i stole and then she pooped on the floor. i asked her why she did it and she was just like, "rrrowe...." and she kind of tilted her head to the side. it's a classic dog response.

hams & cheeses

bored? play the keyboard!