I’m proud to present to you number 4!

Well brethren and sistren. What a site it is to be witnessing the building up of JBUDD NEWS enterprises. We started out as a couple of weirdo's from a small film club started at Riverton. And now our branches are reaching from sea to shining sea. And none of this could have been possible without the support of you guys. And most of all…. Me. ;)

>>>>STORY OF THE WEEK

Yesterday was a pretty fantabulous Friday night. And I'm going to hit some very key points on the BYU lifestyle. So you better be taking notes. I'll start off with the top 10 ways you know you go to byu.

Top 10 ways to tell if you go to BYU.
10. If the question, "what language do you speak" is a common small talk.
9. If the most popular pick up line is, "will you marry me?"
8. If girls start picking up on YOU, because the general male population is too terrified to make the initiation.
7. If you're 25 and you've never held a girls hand.
6. IF you're male and 20, then no girls are talk to you…. And you probably live in a tower ringing church bells every hour on the hour, talking to gargoyles.
5. You walk in on someone head banging to Mo Tab.
4. IF Cosmo actually IS your hero.
3. If you walk out of class because they mention the author, "Balzac"
2. If "more holier than thou." Isn't just a phrase, it's a reality.
1. If you're offended by this newsletter

Well of course there ARE normal people that go to BYU. But generally speaking, the generalations of the generality of BYU is a complete understatement. I've got some stories that make singles ward seem like a…. cat. Compared to a… BIG cat. If you get my drift.

So I go with my roomies, (who's name's can't be disclosed) To the great Taco Bell of Provo. Now I've heard stories of this place, for I am no ordinary taco bell customer. I STUDY taco bell.

Side note:
The taco bell on 9000 south and 700 East in sandy is the best taco bell I've gone to.

SO we walk into this taco bell. And it was like walking into the depths of aych ee double toothpicks.

Side note2: I don't think you realize how hard it is to move to Utah and get used to the slang here. I mean, we've got NASA scientists working on our language. Trying to CRACK our CODE. "He double toothpicks what the heck are they talking about?" "what the H is heck?" " what the badword is H?" "…they're good… I don't trust those some beaches" "I think they are planning an attack" "yes, up in them mou-ains they are"
Anyway!

So this taco bell is literally and the blazing temperature of 90 degrees. And I order a uh hem… HALF POUND beef and potato…. HALF POUND! Long story short, it's not even CLOSE to a half pound. I was ashamed to even be using the standard system to measure it's weight. I would guess it was about a 2/9 of a Kilogram.
ANWAY #2

So we go to this byu dance party thing where all the freshman live. This was a shocking experience for me, for I live with a bunch of RM's ("RM? What the glaven does that mean?") at our complex. SO when I saw all these freshman they seemed so young, and displayed many of the top 10 list above. They were mixing non alcoholic strawberry daiquiri's, cookies, rice crispy's, a d.j. they were trying to make it like a Mormon frat party.
THE END.




Now this first comment will make up the bulk of this newsletter so It deserves an intro. This story was brought to you by Quinton W. N. C. Campbell III the title of it is, "Service, isn't it About Time?" yes… yes it is Quin. Lady's and Gentlemen, QUIN CAMPBELL

>>>>SUCCESS STORY
During this semester at USU I was able to step outside my comfort zone and serve in way's I've never be able to. When I was a child I received a blow to the back of the head with a baseball bat. I wasn't in a gang fight or anything exciting, just a baseball game gone horribly wrong. After a mild concussion and stitches. By which an exceedingly great amount of blood gushed forth. A realization came to my little second grade mind. People bleed a lot I should donate blood. I'm not joking I really and truly thought that. I wanted to donate blood because people out there could have been bleeding like me.
Well the clock kept ticking and I was a freshman in college and I had yet to achieve my second grade desire. All because a needle, no larger then the smallest blade of grass, In which I was certain contained pain and death. Horrified I approached the table with the large "donate today" sign. They directed me towards a cold metal chair and a clip board. After the clip board had racked my soul for ever prior medical issue in my life and my deepest darkest secrets. A tall man dressed in black directed me to a dark corner that seemed as though it came from the very depths of hell.
In this corner, makeshift walls hid us from the world. I then was interrogated for what seemed like an eternity concerning if I had aids. I kept my cool and assured the man I that I did NOT. He kept questioning, his tactics stiffened. the use of a computer was implemented. My heart pounding I continued to answer I was aid free and had never been to Africa. He started asking more questions about many STDs some that I'd never heard of. I began to panic. Sweat began to perspire from my very brow. Who is this guy? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME. What if I DID have aids and didn't know it? What if I had in fact done the baby making kiss with some aid infested person? What if I shared a needle with Magic Johnson over spring break and didn't remember? The man had pushed me into a state of fear. Surprisingly I held strong, never confessing to the possibility of having aids or some other disease making my blood unworthy. The man looked unsatisfied at a lack of my confession, and then poked my finger drawing some blood. He "said" that he was testing my blood type but we all know he didn't trust my word and was further probing for aids. Pleased with my bloody finger he gave me the okay to donate.
I was seated in an awkward chair with INCREDIBLE folding capabilities. A nice lady with similar features as my dear Grandmother came and began cleaning my flesh where the blood would be drawn. I turned my head, she thrust the needle into my flesh and an incredible thing happened… nothing.
I looked back to see her moving the needle around it clearly having punctured my skin. I felt no pain it was more of an annoying pinch but no pain. She was moving the needle around trying to inject it into a vain. Then this sweet little lady said something I'll never forget,
"You have tough little veins." She said it in such a sweet tone all I could reply was "Thank you very much," attempting to sound as merry and sweet as she had sounded. No sooner had I thanked her she looked up from the needle into my eyes perhaps looking at my very soul and quickly exclaimed, "It's not a good thing honey!" I was crushed needless to say. I didn't want to have small tough veins. I never thought that I would have veins lacking in donating ability.
This only made me more determined to give blood. The lady in charge was summoned to attempt to see if she could stab my "tough little" veins with a needle. Taking the needle she jabbed into my arm. A jolt of pain rushed through my arm. "Oops, I seem to have gone through the vein." For perhaps one second I envisioned myself internally bleeding and suffering a slow painful death. But it wasn't a big deal she switched to my other arm and boom 5 minutes later I was out of there. I learned a lot that day about giving blood. I learned that for the most part it really doesn't hurt that bad and when you do it your literally saving someone's life.
I don't think people realize how much service they can do by simply smiling and talking to someone, sincerely caring about that person. We all feel down at one point in time and all it takes is one person to smile or compliment us to brighten our day.
>>>REMARKS
Great success story. Read it. love it. crave it. A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to give blood too. And I waved as it passed by, but Colin pushed me into it. So I had the same problem with the veins being small. My experience was really painful, and Colin and Jake showerhammer (not going to try to spell it.) said I looked like I was dying. I was freaking out the whole time, yelling obscenities. "Holy jeepers this hurts mam!" The thing about giving blood that kind of bothered me is this.
Point 1: You are stealing ME. ME is slowly dripping into a bag. I used to be 1 full Jesse, now I'm Jesse minus 1 quart. Doesn't that BOTHER you?
Point 2: I am literally slowly dying laying in that chair, if they continued the procedure, I wouldn't be writing this to you today. But LUCKILY some scientist realized that the donors don't permanently die if you only take 1 quart.
ANYWAY#3
while I was laying in that chair flashing through my childhood memories. Up afar on the floor, I see a man. And he sees me in my agony. He comes to the railing and leans over the edge smiling. And he waves at me. And I wave back. The nurse sais to me, "do you know this person? And I said back. "He's my guardian angel."
In the end I had no Idea who the guy was, and I think he thought I was someone else. But we got a good laugh out of it.

>>>>>QUESTION
Dear Jesse,
I have quite the dilemma to overcome. As a student at Utah State, some
of my main objectives are to learn and achieve. So it wouldn't
surprise you to hear that I am excelling at the sport of badminton.
Sometimes my roommate (QWNC III) and I play, but he isn't much of a
challenge for me. My abilities just don't seem to be improving anymore
because winning just comes too easily now. What should I do to
continue an educational experience in this subject?
Exuberantly Yours,
JP
>>>>REMARKS:
Well… That's some dilemma you've got going there. But if you heed to these principles I'm sure you can get through it.
As a great rapper once said, success is 10% luck, 20% skill, 15% concentrated power of will, 5% pleasure, 50% pain, And 100% reason to remember the name!
Well I'm not sure if he ever took math, but his number's end up being 200%... NOT important.
The problem, I can tell, from the way you ask it, isn't so much QUIN, But actually YOU. You need to stop loping around and wallowing in your misery, and you need to get out there and find some new competitors. Let me explain to you a principle called the 'next' principle.
When you've been working on a person for awhile, and they just aren't showing any improvement/competition. What you got to say to yourself is simply, 'next.' There are thousands of fish in the sea, and they all want to play badminton with you Jorien. Now get out there and meet them! They're playing on YOUR field. They listen to YOU. Understand? And if you go into this game with this attitude, You'll find that you'll be more successful. You'll start to ATTRACT the better minton players. Instead of you going to them.
Love ya Joreo. Till we meet again.

>>>>>COMMENT:
haha that was lovely! this is the first one ive actually sat down and read, but i plan on reading them from here on out :P

P.S. if you are interested in making a website, i'm in the Web Design business, and i'd gladly make you one! –Kyle Challis


>>>>REMARKS
why thanks kyle. I'm planning on reading them from here on out also.
I've already been collaborating with Chyle Kallis, and a website is under development. The website will bind "film club reloaded" together with "JBUDD NEWS" into one enourmous recourse for multi media and entertainment. And all you chums will be able to help progress the movement of the website by adding your own video's and graphics, and songs. And eventually this website will continue to grow until it fills the whole earth.


>>>>COMMENT
you totally walked into my Cadence class the other day.
-Ann

>>>>REMARKS
cool.


Well that finishes the Newsletter for this week. If you want to add anyone to our secret community. Have them email clubfilm@gmail.com and put the subject as, "ADD"

I'll talk to you again soon.

Your Friend,

JBUDD

P.P.S
Robots could rise up in open rebellion against mankind and rule the earth we being the slaves if we become careless and give them battery packs we need to stick with short cords making them unable to move far from the wall and being able to unplug them if we sense the threat of organization. Hopefully this essay will convince you of this fact. Together brother we will not be ruled by machines! -Quinton w.n.c. Campbell III