King of the Playground

Well we’re all starting to get back to the swing of life… During summer break we had the opportunity to “jump out” of our swings. With a nice temporary rush from flying thru the air, coming to a climatic crash with the ground. But now it’s time to jump back on, start pumping again, and work our way back up to our repetitive lives.

Some of you might not be quite there. Some of you might still be immature and are swinging on your stomachs. Which seemed like a good idea at first, but you soon realize that all your blood has rushed to your head, and you’re starting to feel sick.

Remember those good ol’ elementary recess days? Swings… monkey bars… SLIDES!
You know I think that these were all failed attempts of our parents trying to kill their kids.

“why don’t you climb up that really tall ladder up there, and go down that metal surface with temperatures near liquid magma, and lets see if you can break the land speed record.”

That’s what we were all trying to do in our childish minds. We weren’t there to ‘have fun’ we were there to break some world records. Remember that first time down the slide?

      “you want me to do what!.... WHY!!!.... yeah you’ll catch me…right! Why should I trust you! Oh you got candy? Ok!”

Kids live on candy. When you’re a kid, nutrition is buskins. All that other food was grown up food. But KIDS… THEY ATE CANDY. Candy was OUR food. It was our medicine.
       “I’m feeling a tummy ach coming on.”
       “I recommend 1 pack of smarties!”

Smarties I’m pretty sure in every kids life was one point used as medicine.

As a kid your status in the classroom all depended on how you performed out on the field. Remember that kid that could do the back flip out of that swing? Yeah, he was cool. He could be the dorkiest kid in class. But if he pulled off that back flip. He became the new idol. He was like Anubis mated with Venus, and that’s the god that came out. The back flip god. We actually built alters to that god. Out of our soft padded gravel ground.

I want to meet the guy who invented the idea of gravel. I want to have him take a look at all the scars in my hands and knees and make him pay for all my lost childhood. Since when was using rocks to break your fall the best solution. And who decided to give us authority to have USE of these rocks. These weapons of mass destruction. I think there has been more scrapes and injuries caused by gravel then any other medium on the planet. Kids throwing it at eachother. Little Timmy is eating it in the corner. The new challenger to the land speed record on the slide makes one wrong calculation and goes flying into this buckshot called gravel….

Remember having to pick the rocks out from beneath your skin? Remember that kid who DIDN’T cry when he got hurt? Yeah he was like Ra and Aphrodite mated. A bird woman. The goddess bird of… not crying. Yeah that kid was cool. But not as cool as back flip kid. I never became backflip kid. I still envy back flip kid. Back flip kid is STILL one step higher then me.

THE END

PS
As some of the old timers that haven't yet been offended as of yet and are still reading this probably noticed.  (that sentence receives the crappiest worded sentence award.  I don't feel like fixing it.  FIGURE IT OUT!)
This is an old post from January 14, 2007.  I was reading through some JBUDD archive and I found this and laughed.  (Is it wrong to laugh at your own stuff? IDK)

PPS
I realized that I never posted my latest movie!  This is the most professional video I've ever made.
DISCLAIMER - NOT FUNNY   (but it's interesting.) (There's two parts to it, so find the other half.  FIGURE IT OUT!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=odJIjk-I0YM

Cowboys and Indians, that racist little game...

Cowboys and Indians, what a racist game we teach our children. “Alright Billy, you’re a redneck cowboy from the dirty south, and Timmy you’re a savage Indian. You HATE each other! Can you feel the hatred?! FEEL IT! One two three HATE!! HATE DANG IT!!!!” and then they start beating up on each other –SMACK- -CRACKLE- -POP- as you casually walk away to get some rice crispy treats.

No better way to teach about racism than cowboys and Indians. The kids come inside crying all beat up.
“Now what did we learn today kids?”
“Cowboys are sons of a…”
“That’s right Timmy, racism is BAD. Now lets turn on the ‘I love you’ Barney tape, to wash the enmity out of you!”

Well that’s how I’M going to raise my kids… I’m not sure about you guys…

To me, cowboys almost make sense. They live where the sage brush grows, eat dirt for breakfast, drink, and gamble. I mean who WOULDN’T want to do that? I just feel for the poor sheriff. I’m not sure how they find a guy for this job, because he always ends up dead by the time the credits scroll.

The bandits show up into town:
“Alright the bank is a block east from here, the bar is next to the bank, and the sheriff is roaming the streets ready to duel.”
“So what’s our plan?”
“Rob the bank, shoot the sheriff, and then get some shots of whiskey?”
“How bout we get the whiskey, shoot the sheriff, then rob the bank?”
“What if we rob the sheriff, shoot the bank, then drink the whiskey?”

I don’t know… the bottom line is the Sheriff ends up dead either way…

I believe the number one cause of death for the Sheriff is DUEL. They’re filling out the accident report, “how the accident occurred: DUELED, and got shot in the heart.” I wonder if there’s a way to collect workmen’s comp for that? DEFINITELY a work related accident…

I never have understood the duel; I just don’t see the logic in it. For those of you who have never seen one, the two cowboys stand back to back, and mark out a couple of paces away from each other and then turn around staring deep into each other’s eyes. The goal is to shoot the other varmint before he shoots YOU. So they stare deep at each other trying to read when the other one draws so they can try and draw a little bit faster, and they have a twitchy hand next to the gun, trying to fake the other guy out. “oh, I’m gonna go NOW, no NOW, haha tricked you!” -BOOM- He’s dead.

I don’t think dueling is the time to pump fake. Basketball, football, or even GOLF, FINE do it. But DUELING?! Why would you EVER want someone to THINK you’re going, and then NOT ACTUALLY GO? And they’re always trying to go AFTER the other person starts drawing, like there’s some advantage to that or something? The way I see it is whoever grabs their gun the first will always be ahead by at least half a second! So why wait?! Why not just turn around grab your gun and shoot?! What’s this whole psychology twitchy hand voodoo crap going on. Just shoot him!

Anyway… I guess that’s why I was always the Indian…

Columbus Sailed that Ocean Blue

I was reading an economics book called, “The World is Flat” and the very beginning the author told the story of Columbus.  HE thought the world was round, and everyone else said it was FLAT.  So he said, “I’ll show them” and in 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue.  He was originally going to take off in 1491, but could only come up with thumb, run, and plum as rhymes.  “1491, Columbus stuck in his thumb and pulled out a plum… ACK! terrible rhyme.  Let’s wait another year!”

When he made it to America he discovered a bunch of dark skinned people, and had innocently mistaken them for Indians.  You think they would have planned ahead a little and brought someone who could speak Indian, “HALLO THERE! TANK YOU COME AGAIN!”  Don’t know what their plan was showing up all casual, “hey guys!  How’s it going? Oh, we’re just stopping by.  Just wanted to say hi to our neighbors on the other side of the Atlantic!  Yep It took us 3 months to get here… and we thought we were dead, and we almost had a mutiny… ha ha…. Ha…” the Indians stared back blankly… “Well, we… we weren’t planning on staying long… ACTUALLY we were just leaving!”  That’s when the sta. Maria squealed away.

When did it hit them that it wasn’t India?  They’re sailing back and Columbus says,  “hey Eric the terrible… psss… over here… Did you notice any call centers while we were there?

“No”

“(gasp)  GREAT SCOTT!”

I think Columbus’s simple mistake has been the biggest typo left on world history…. How long ago was that? Some 600+ years?    And… WE STILL CALL THEM INDIANS?  You think that would have been handled very promptly right then and there…

There couldn’t have been more than100 people on those ships, Columbus could have called a meeting together, “alright me mateys,  We ORIGINALLY THOUGHT that we were in India.”

“(Cheers and grunts)”

“BUT we were wrong!”

“(grumble grumble grumble)"

“This is AMERICA!  So instead of calling them INDIANS, because they’re not… NO Jósurr, they’re NOT… we’re going to start calling them NATIVE AMERICANS… can you say that with me?”

“(all together) Native Ameriplanes?”

“YES.  NATIVE AMERICANS…” more slowly than the first…

That’s all you had to do Columbus… when the people got back to Spain they would have been like, “WE DISCOVERED THE NATIVE AMERICANS!!!” 

And everyone would have been like, “Native Americans, what a brilliant discovery!  We’ll give Columbus a giamungous medal for this discovery!”

And to this day, instead of kids playing cowboys and Indians, they would be playing cowboys and Native Americans…

To be continued…

Tiger Woods Says SORRY! OMG!

For those of you that don’t know, JBUDD NEWS is officially writing, REAL news! Not to say that all the stuff I write here ISN’T true, but even more importantly, not to say that it IS true either.

So I got hired on with our school newspaper to write for them. I’m not sure if you can call it news yet, but it’s definitely written on brownish grey paper. Click on the thumbnail if you wanna read the article.

When you think of a journalist what image comes to mind?

BINGO. That’s right! Scarf man comes to mind. That’s what scared me about this whole newspaper ordeal. For one, I don’t look like scarf man! How am I going to be a journalist? And secondly… I don’t think I’ve ever read a newspaper in my life!

In one of our meetings, they showed us an article, and told us how bad it sucked, and how we need to improve our writing. I’m pretty sure it all went over my head. I think I caught the word, “the” a few times, and maybe an “is” but they were speaking in journalist talk. Something about a lead, and everyone was just like “ I CANT believe she WROTE THAT! She talked about BOOKS? HOW BORING!!!!” ,and I was just like… “YEAH take those leads! And WRITE THEM! GOOD! or GOODLY! Or… WELL-LY…” (nice one… now they’ll think I’m good at English.. yes!)

So I’ve been reading a bunch of newspapers lately trying to get the feel for them, and what caught me by surprise was the FRONT PAGE!

You don’t have to be no journalist to answer this question, but… What do you put on the front page?
You’d probably say, the most important, and most interesting news. So on Friday, I popped open the Deseret News, and was reading the front page. The BIG story was about how TIGER WOODS APOLOGIZES. I was thinking… wow, must be a slow news day. I’m not sure how much they can write about that thing, they pretty much covered it in the headline. If I was writing the story, it would go something like this: “Tiger Woods apologized… he said… ‘SORRY’… ‘uh…woops?’ ‘I won’t do it again?’ ‘Promise?’ The end.” But no, this was the TOP story! I don’t really know all the details on that story, but that’s because I DON’T CARE! I don’t even KNOW the guy! Why do I care if he had like a bajillion affairs? He is not apart of my LIFE! I watch him golf, and say, “wow, that guy can golf.” That’s IT! I don’t care what he had for breakfast, or if he’s married or not. I’m pretty sure when all that crap hit the fan, some guy was sitting down on the couch watching the news sayin, “NO KIDDIN! Tiger Woods was married?”
His apology I care even LESS about, because I don’t think he OWES me an apology! What did he do to me? Apologize to your WIFE man! NOT to me! I don’t know you!

Anyway… after wrestling through that grueling 2000 word article, I turned to the SECOND page, and guess what I found?
“Crazy man runs plane into the IRS building, destroying it ALLL! People DYING! TERRORISM! NATIONAL SECURITY!!!”
What? Page 2? This guy just blew up the IRS building? Isn’t that gonna like MESS everything up? Isn’t that along the same magnitude of the Oklahoma Bombing? The type of stuff that ends up in history books? I will be PISSED if I’m helping my future kids with their history homework, and I pop the book open to the 2010 section, and find a big ol picture of TIGER WOODS! Then somewhere else on the page in fine print, “a man blew up the IRS building this year also. By the way.”

What has the world come to when we're more concerned about random dude's affair, than buildings being blown up, and people dying.

I’m just sayin…

JBUDD OUT!

PS we wrote a new song, check us out here:

McDonalds - The secrets behind the golden arches

I was thinking about a joke my friend made about McDonald's slogan, “It’s what I eat and what I do” Seriously, I don’t get what they’re trying to say with this!

It sounds like a mom trying to get her 400 pound five-year-old outside to get some exercise, and the kid responds with, “THIS IS WHAT I EAT!!! THIS IS WHAT I DO!!! OK?!!” “DON’T MESS WITH ME! THIS is what I’m doing… THIS is what I eat! NOTHING ELSE!!!” the mom asks, “do you want pizza? Do you want to watch a movie?” he responds with, “NO. only THIS. ONLY MCDONALDS is what I DO!” Soon after these kids grow up on this slogan, they’re gonna reach the ripe old age of 80, and realize they haven’t accomplished anything…

“ALL I’ve done is McDonalds my whole life! …” 

THAT’S when the law suits come in… BAD business move in my book. How do you DO McDonalds anyway? I don’t think anyone wants to admit to that slogan. “this is all I eat, and do.” So why do they do it?

Lets look at some slogans from McDonalds past:

     Enjoy the best food at McDonald's (1973) - I recommend you get the BEST food here, in retrospect to all our BAD food…

     We do it all for you (1975) - We love you SOOO much that we serve you transfatty sandwiches to increase your likelihood of death! :)

     Nobody makes your day like McDonald's can (1980-1983) – “I’ll have a big mac… and what they heck, throw in a good day too!”

     That's My McDonald's (1981) – HEY! That’s MY McDONALDS!!! POLICE!

     McDonald's and you (1983) – Their sad attempt to start a speed dating organization

     McDonald's is your place to be (1986) – Do you enjoy sports? Or maybe the great outdoors? Well stop wasting your time, and get down to McDONALDS! Cuz it’s your place to be… We even put in a new BALL pit so you NEVER have to leave… nothing like sleeping on a bunch of hard plastic balls!

     Food, folks and fun (1990) – That’s the three things we got. We got FOOD, Parents, and a BALL pit! (mcdonalds is not responsible for any suffocation/trampling of your child in his feeble attempt to escape.)

     McDonald's Today (1991-1992) – Tired of other BORING newspapers like “New York Times” or “USA Today?” Well subscribe to the new McDonalds’s Today! Where you get DAILY updates on Ronald McDonalds fashion statements, and updates on the polices recent findings of the escaped, “hamburgler.” Also find tips on how to hamburgler proof your house with 25 simple tips by John Walsh! But you ask, “What if I’m a tree hugger and STILL want reliable news?” NO PROBLEM… OUR paper is made entirely out of excess potato skins, ensuring all you hippies all the trees and more to hug. So subscribe and save the planet, one newspaper at a time!


     What you want is what you get (1992) – ever wondered about what you’re going to get? SIMPLE… it’s what you ordered stupid!

     Do you believe in magic? (1993) – They were debating between this one and, “What’s your favorite color?”

     Have you had your break today? (1995-1997) – They were debating between this one and, “How’s it goin?”

     My McDonald's (1997) - My own… my PRECIOUS!!!

     Did somebody say McDonald's? (1997) – am I hearing voices?

     We love to see you smile (2000-2003) – After working long grueling shifts without sunlight or joy… we LOVE to see the rare occasion when someone actually smiles.

     There's a little McDonald's in everyone (2002) – I think I remember on the commercial it had a bunch of people dressed up in lab coats with a voice over that said, “Statistics show, that 10 percent of our body weight is attributed to the transfat from McDonalds…” then a metallic McDonalds crushed the screen, and said, “There’s a little McDonald’s in everyone…”

     I'm lovin' it (2003) – I actually liked this one. Why did they get rid of it?

     It's what I eat and what I do (2005) - yep


     What we're made of (2008-present) – This proves that evolution is false. Naturally you’d think that throughout the life of one of the largest corporations in the world, that the slogans would adapt, and get better and better. Survival of the fittest. But seriously, what are they trying to say? WHAT are you made of?  Is that even grammatically correct?


In other news.  It looks like Jaymin Vickers is the winner of this years Winter Solstice Stache.  He will be recieving one CD of the sweater sweeties christmas album. thank you.

-JBUDD OUT!

The Dangers of Donating Plasma #19

Lately people have been asking me:

1) What is the bump on your arm after you donate plasma?
ANSWER: Don't worry about it. It just means your lab coat person messed up, and punctured your vein and you're bleeding internally... NO BIG DEAL! (it sounds bad, but really, don't worry about it.) In the following real life story you'll learn of MY experience with having the bump on my arm, so you'll know what to expect.

So I went to sell my sweet sweet plasma the other day… I don’t know WHAT it is… but those doctors just drink that stuff up…

To start the process, they pulled me into a little tiny room that could barely fit 2 people, and just eyed my luscious veins down, feeling it with his gloved hand. I’m not sure at ALL if this dude actually knows what he’s doing, but the white lab coat definitely gets my respect.

This guy could be just another shmo off the street, he looks about my age, but when he’s wearing the jacket… My life is in his hands… I don’t know what strenuous process he had to go thru to get to lab coat rank, but I’m pretty sure that anyone could get to lab coat status by the results of what happened to me… who is HE to judge my veins, when he walks imperfectly?

If any of you don’t know what donating plasma is, it’s kind of like prostitution… you sell part of your body for money. They suck your blood, take the plasma out, and then give it back to you for a price…

This idea intrigued me, partly because of the money, but mostly because of the name. PLASMA! That definitely seems like something you don’t want to miss. Sounds like something from a sci fi movie. Til now, I figured plasma was some radioactive orange goo that they extract out of my body for purposes of fueling a top secret government spaceship that would fly to Jupiter, but it turns out it just looks like apple cider. Someone must just really like the taste or something…

Now if you’re a first time pusher of plasma, they make you go thru this long difficult process of walking in little rooms, answering questions and getting tests done until FINALLY you get to the physical.

Physicals always scare me, cuz I never know what to expect…

“so… are you going to do the whole drop your pants thing or not… Just tell me now, so we can get the awkwardness out of the way…”

I definitely think that these doctors need better senses of humor. During my plasma physical, he got me all laid out on the mini bed, and told me to lift my shirt. And I was half way thru saying, “… I don’t think I should be lifting my shirt for another guy in this part of town,” when he started feeling my bare stomach.  I was just staring into his eyes.  His head was bent over, getting pretty close to mine… it all seemed too romantic for me… so… I LAUGHED! And he abruptly stopped feeling me, and said in a dry tone, 

“I sense that you’re a bit ticklish?” 
 
AWW common! That’s all you’ve got? You’re pressing into my stomach! We both know that it’s awkward, so… you can laugh too! I give you permission! Let’s just rejoice together, and I’ll even share with you those crackers you gave me at the beginning…

Anyway…

To conclude my story:
I got into the plasma room. It looked like a wounded soldier clinic or something. There’s just a bunch of guys laid out on these beds, next to these radio looking machines, squeezing this ball. So they hook me up… and I’m thinking… "OW!"

I tell the lab coat girl… “OW!” And she’s like, “OW?” so she tries moving the needle around to get rid of the ow… and she stops, and does that undercover code language whisper thing that doctors and nurses do… and some other nurse shows up, and unhooks me… then they do some more hush hush talk, and I get a DUDE finally. 

He must be pretty high up on the lab coat rank, and he does some voodoo vein check on my right arm, and stabs me there, and this one wasn’t as “OW” and the blood starts pumping. But they try pumping it back to see if it’ll go in, and I get this gnarly looking goo bump where the needle is… but all the lab coat folk acted like this was perfectly normal.  I asked,  “is that normal…” And he promptly said, "NO!"

How can he be so CALM I’m DYING!!! SAVE ME!
So they unhook me, and still don’t tell me anything, then give me 20 bucks and told me to leave…

And while I was walking out, I was thinking, huh… I just went in, waited a couple hours, and got paid for getting hurt! Next time, I should just request the baseball bat to the head to save time. Don’t worry about the needle thing… just injure me right here and now! They should just have a bunch of bats at the receptionists desk, so I don’t even have to get past there… walk in, get injured, take my money and leave… seems a LOT more efficient…

I’ve attached pictures of what my arm looked like

Initial bump that formed after I took off the bandage

The BUMP (My bicep isn't supposed to be that big...)

2 days after

5 days later (it's a lot darker in person)

How to write your own will... #18

Good HECK! Wasn’t it a beautiful day today? The weather made my day. When the weather’s cold, my classes seem like I’m just waiting in a military bunker in Siberia, waiting to go out to battle. But today the birds were chirping, and everything felt… EXUBERANT (for lack of better words.) Even my CLASSES seemed more interesting. My business law professor was holding a pen today, and it exploded in his hand without him realizing it, and he did one of those nose swipes and put a PERFECT little Hitler mustache on his face, and EVERYTHING he said was funny after that! Except when he started yelling at us in German, and two guys dressed in black carried some kid out of class… NOBODY saw that coming…

In class today we learned about wills. Wills are defined as: power trips from beyond the grave. EVEN though I’m dead… I’m STILL going to control what happens to you!!

I was thinking about MY will… what could I possibly put in it? Well… what do I own? “and my pog collection will go to little Timmy” “my half can of tuna can go to my roommates who’ve been eying it down in the fridge.”

Since when did my net worth get so low? You see those guys on t.v. “Donald trump is worth 5 billion dollars” or whatever… I’d love to see how they’d calculate MY net worth…. “alright, you got eleven and a half pairs of socks, some pants shoes, and shirts… a box of macaroni, and 3 slices of top raman… That comes to a subtotal of 40 bucks… would you like paper or plastic…” what does that number even mean anyway? He’s worth 2 trillion! What does that even mean? Are we to the point where we’re selling people on the market now? “I’ll take … one Bob Frakenburg… and… what the heck, throw in a bill gates!” I thought all that stuff ended with the 14th amendment? I don’t know why the heck we’re calculating what people are worth…

>>>>ANYWAY…

Since MY will obviously can’t have anything to do with material things… I’ve I’m going to put random things in it.

I can picture it now, a bunch of people gathered in a circle reading my will as my old dead body lies warm in my bed. I just happened to be wearing this big purple heart shaped jewel around my neck… The one begins to read. His finger following each carefully placed word:
“Go to the backyard and dig a hole!! and then… throw my body into it! GO AHEAD! Don’t be shy! The shovel’s in the garage next to that big mining pick!”
How often have you ever needed to use your mining pick anyway? Every house has one… I just ONCE want to be chilling at my friend’s house, watching a movie or something, and see his dad come into the house, just COVERED in black residue…
“WHAT HAPPENED ED??”
“ah, nothing, just been down in the hole collecting fossil fuels for your stockings this Christmas! You’d be surprised how much coal is under that SANDBOX over there!” at this point we look out the window too see poor Timmy playing with his new pog set, when the sandbox collapses into them mine… looks like no coal for timmy THIS Christmas…


I’m just not into the whole fancy funeral thing. Just what’s the big deal? Who are we trying to kid? Are we trying to make the people who just died feel good that they actually had people show up? Most of them you probably don’t even know anyway! Are we afraid that the person is going to come back and haunt us if we don’t do these things?

And we go all out with the expensive casket and everything… What do those things cost? Like 5 grand? Excuse me? This is the same glorified box we’re going to be burying in a 6 foot deep hole? How bout I make a box, and you give me that 5 grand! They even give you a little PILLOW in there! Now what crack head came up with that?! We figured since he’s gonna be in that box for a couple hundred years, might as well make him comfortable… and what the hey, lets put the guy in a tuxedo too! Just in case he meets another dead lady down there and wants to go on a date!

So in MY will, I want to change some things up.
I figures since I already get a pillow… might as well be in a good sleeping position… so when everyone shows up to the viewing, they’ll see me laid on my side in the fetal position… one arm thrown up underneath my pillow, and the other one’s flopped over my chest. My face will be buried in my pillow, and they’ll even add fake drool to make it seem more realistic… I’ll be wearing Pajama bottoms, and my favorite Riverton shirt and I’ll have a Nintendo DS next to me, cuz if I happen to wake up in the coffin, hey! They’ve got MARIO in this thing! I figure if I’m gonna need a pillow down there, I DEFINITELY will need some entertainment … If I’m going down… I’m going down in style…

How To Mooch off your friends... #17

OK OK OK, I haven’t written for a month, SO SUE ME!

I thought you learned by now that JBUDD news is unpredictable… it’s the predictable newsletters you can’t depend on… cuz you never know when they’ll do something, completely stupid… but with JBUDD news you can ALWAYS depend on it being undependable…

As you can tell, I’ve recently watched pirates of the Caribbean… not by choice… now I’m not saying that I don’t consider it one of my favorite movies… but that I hadn’t planned on watching it. I know we’ve all been there, you’re walking past the TV, and you’re like, “hey what’s that moving thing you’re looking at?” Then you turn you’re head, and then BAM! An hour later you’re watching the credits roll… still holding your psychology book pretending that maybe perhaps you’re going to study it while watching it…

We use bait to catch fish… and if THEY ever wanted to get revenge and catch us cruel humans… I would HIGHLY suggest to use a T.V. “hey what’s that?” then by the time the subject latches on to the T.V. BAM he’s in the boat… Fish catching Humans? That doesn’t make sense!

Last night I was walking past the T.V. and an hour later I saw the credits scrolling for the movie, “NINJA TURTLES” and I think THAT was a pretty far fetched Idea… I’m not sure HOW the creators came up with that… they HAD to have been tripping on acid… “dude! Dude dude! I GOT IT!!! What if… these turtles, could like FIGHT eachother and TALK!” and his friend was like, “COWABUNGA DUDE!”

For those that haven’t seen it, the alleged turtles were thrown into a sewer, and then they came across some glowing green GOO, and it made their whole genetic code change in such a way where they could walk and talk, and do kung foo…

Now days, us movie watchers want more EVEDENCE… back in the day we used to be able to say, “the turtles walked in to some green goo, and that’s how they became the ninja turtles... ALRIGHT!” no questions asked… audiences all over the world were watching it in theaters nodding their heads saying, “I see where they’re going with this!!” NOW days… people are a lot more picky…

Anyone see the first Hulk? Yeah, the first 30 minutes of that movie was dedicated to the science of Hulkanism… how a person could actually TURN into a green monster when he’s angry…imagine trying to explain that! …They talked about genetics, physics, biology, chemistry, quantum physics, BIOGENETIC quantum physics…. Til finally the audiences were like…. “Yeah….. I GUESS that could have happened?” WHAT HAPPENED TO THE GOOD OL days of the glowing green goo that explained everything?!!

The comic book publisher would ask,:
“So how’d he become spiderman?”
“well the kid was bit by a spider that fell into some green goo…”
“OH ok!”
“what about this dare devil character?”
“well the green goo got in his eyes, so now he can see sound!”
“Fantastic FO”
“GOO!”
“… I like your originality kid… You’ve got yourself a deal!”

Parents would use it to teach their kids things they didn’t want them to know…
“where do babies come from?”
The green goo
“What happened to Kitty?”
The green goo ate him
“mom, why are you and daddy eating the cookies left out for santa?”
Um… uh… GREEN GOO!!!

It was the perfect cover…

>>>>>>>>>ANYWAYS #1

Now that I’m a big college boy, I’ve learned a few things:

1: The art of “mooching” – I think us moochers have gotten a bad rep. for ONE, because of the closeness of the word MOOCH to SMOOCH… and for TWO cuz of the song, “minnie the moocher” I think the moochers of this world are misunderstood, and misrepresented… I think WE deserve a National Moochers Day! I think WE deserve Moochers PRIDE month… I think WE deserve a Moochers Pride Parade! I HAVE A DREAM ladies and gentleman! That some day a moocher would be aloud to adopt a baby from a family that aren’t moochers! We say that all men are born equal… does this not include moochers?!

The problem is people think that we mooch ONLY cuz we’re cheep and trying to take advangage of the other person… NO NO NO! they’ve got it all wrong… really the art of mooching is all about love… You’ve got to have LOVE for the person who’s talking your food without asking… when you see that poor chap that has only but macaroni and cheese for dinner, you get to feel that love for him and let him mooch off of your hamburger helper… common… who’s your neighbor? Who’s your neighbor?

ALSO we’d like to officially recognize September 23, 2009 as Moochers day…
SO to save me time and head aches for having to answer the emails subjected, “how do I celeberate Moochers day?” I’ll just answer it now:

The first thing one must do in celebrating “Moochers day” is to decorate of course! So the best way to do that is get the decorations from your friends… you can use anything you really want really… Toiletpaper…. Cans of TUNA… your FHE partner’s Guitar Hero set… and then once you’re done decorating the house, you sing the traditional moochmas songs, classic favorites like:

“Oh Susana! What’d you bring for me?”
“Old mcdonald HAAAD a cow…”
And the classic, “we WISH you a merry MOOCHMAS” with emphasis on the last verse, “Oh, bring us a figgy pudding;
and…
“ we WONT go until we GET SOME!”
… what exactly IS figgy pudding anyway?
Not important…

So at the end of the day, you call up your “most frequently mooched friend.” (MFMF) and then tell them thanks for all the things they do for you… (this ensures another conflict free season of mooching…)

MERRY MOOCHERS DAY EVERYONE!!!!

>>>>>>>>>>COMMENT:
You know, you really ought to blog. you've been doing this hilarious news letter for a long time. before blogging was around. it's perfect for a blog. just a thought. you're a funny man mr. jbudd. thanks for the laughs.

- Rachel Clark

>>>>>>>>>REMARKS:
That’s what IVE been trying to tell everyone… FINALLY people are getting it! As for the blog… BLOG that Idea! HA!

>>>>>>>>>COMMENT:
Mr. JBUDD!!!! I have been waiting ages for this moment! This has just made my year so much better! Keep it goin strong......... You know what I mean (:

-Andrew Dillman

>>>>>>>>>>REMARKS:
FIRST of all… that’s DEFINITELY the weirdest smiley I’ve seen (: I can accept bad GRAMMER, and bad SPELLING… but wrong SMILEYS!!! That’s definitely crossing the line… for that! NO MOOCHMAS PRESENT FOR YOU!

>>>>>>>>>COMMENT:
Hello,
hey where have you been recently ? I did not get any mail from you for a long time. Anyway, I found a very quality online pharmacy. I ordered some meds and I got them in 3 days. I remember last time you were asking for a cheap and quality pharmacy.here it is :
Their url : (URL REMOVED)
-Roben Heavens

>>>>>>>>>REMARKS:
Uh… I’m excited to see YOU TOO… Roben… I’m so glad that since we’ve been friends for so long, and since you haven’t seen me for like 21 years that you’d be SOOOO excited to send me this email… And I’m ALSO glad that you care SOOO much for my health that you felt you should send me that URL with so much medicine in it...

Now THAT’S a real friend ladies and gentleman… one who’s willing to sell cheep or illegal drugs to their friends in need…

Well that finishes the Newsletter for this week.
I'll talk to you again soon.
Your Friend,

JBUDD

PS
Random people are always coming up to me and telling me I look like some celebraty… I KNOW I KNOW, I must just have one of those…. FACES I guess… two common ones I get are: JUDE LAW, and HOUSE…

So GUESS which one I look like more, and if you’re right, I’ll give you a free EMAIL!

(BTW the picture is attached…)

Lucky number 13!

Well... I know what you're all thinking. "It's been like 2 months since the last one! You said that you were going to write shorter more frequent JBUDD NEWS'es! I like to complain a lot! Me me me me!" well let me tell you a story. There once was a little boy who planted a carrot seed. Everyone said that It was never going to grow. Long story short it grew to the fear of everyone. The little kid went around with his fury and rampage, collecting the money from the bets he made with them. He eventually made thousands of dollars off of his carrot seed bet, and became a millionaire at age 12. He now has a wife who's expecting child within the next month. But little does the carrot seed kid know that the child isn't his... That's the moral of this story... If you plant a carrot seed, you'll have an illegitimate child. And thus we can relate to JBUDD NEWS?

>>>>ANYWAY

You know what I think is a bunch of crap? Uncle Sam. THAT's RIGHT! I said it! UNCLE SAM!

I'm not saying that I'm a flaming democrat that hates the U.S. I'm saying that I think our country's mascot is in need of some souping up.

I am convinced that Uncle Sam was even more random then my "Steve" mascot for MY made up holiday. I can just see it now. The president is sitting in his office filling out his tax refund, thinking to himself, "Man, this country is as stingy as my uncle Sam." Then right at that moment the light bulb turned on, and angelic choirs were heard in the distance.

That particular president was actually awarded the Nobel prize in 1821.


Growing up as a current U.S. citizen, I've grown to get used to all my schools and sports team's mascots. "the BEARS, the GRIZZLIES, the SILVERWOLVES, the LOCNESS MONSTER'S!"

Man those are ferocious. When I hear those names I think, "man I'm scared of them… bears eat me. Silverwolves… ouch. The loc ness… is big… and tasty. (so I hear) then you'll get the general mascots like: the Indians, the miners, and TROJAN MAN! I'm pretty fly with these ones. I mean wouldn't it be nice to just be the "USA: Americans" "Riverton: Rivertonians" (ooh, sounds tough.) Wouldn't that just make the world so much easier? "We are the rivertonians! Uh huh! We are the rivertonians, the mighty mighty rivertonians! And WE! SHALL! CONQUER!! WOOOOO! (cheerleaders are kicking in the air while holding up there index finger. Pretending that we're actually number one… Who are they trying to convince? The crowd already knows we're not number one, we're DOWN 42 to 6! Anyway…) No more memorizing teams that I have to pretend to know. "OOH, the darts are playing the raptors!" Everyone's all into the game, I'm just sitting in the back all confused, "GO… GO RAPTORS… Hit them with the claw! Whip him with your tail! Fight and win my favorite sports team! May your superior raptor abilities take down those measly inanimate objects…" everyone's looking at me, a coke can glances off my head… yeah, I miss middle school…

Wouldn't that be a nice way for fighting wars?


CNN REPORT IN IRAQ:

The announcers have these headsets on…

Announcer1: I just don't think that the Iraqi bombers have the defense to handle the USA: koala bear's.

Announcer2: I'd agree. What coach sadaam should do is put in his weaker forces in the front line, then flank them from the right with the special opps!

Announcer1: and if koala's coach Bush had his head on straight he'd bomb them from above with a bowing 747!

Announcer2: whatever happens, we can GUARANTEE the audiences that this is going to be an EXILLERATING match!

(yeah, I don't know what I'm talking about… but you get the point!)

>>>>>ANYWAY

Sam... Strait up sam… Is that the image we want to give to the rest of the world? I mean we all have that uncle sam that sits around all day watching T.V. drinking beer. Not being able to hold a steady job or girl friend… "I'm not as THINK as you DRUNK I AM! Officer!" Is that the image we're trying to give to our children? Always borrowing money from other people. And you just give it to him because you know you'll never see it again.

"Man Uncle Sam keeps trying to hit me up for this social security thing he keeps talking about. I know he's just going to use it to buy drugs! … or medicare…"


And another thing. When was the last time Uncle Sam… LOOKED AROUND? Does he see what OTHER people are wearing? NOPE. He's set on his style of cloths. "I'll take a pair long striped red, white, and blue pants…. What the heck! Throw in a tall top hat and jacket to match!" I think he must have gotten a funny look from the retailer, "I'm going to have to see my manager about this one." then he decided to wear this SAME EXACT THING for the next 200 years. TAKE A SHOWER ALREADY!!!


You've got to give him a break though… He IS an old guy… and we all know that once you hit a certain age… someTHING start to change… and you wear the same thing for the rest of your life…

We all know what I'm talking about! Anyone take a look at your dad. Same cloths every day. I actually convinced it's mandatory. I think once they hit a certain age, the FBI pulls them in to there office, tosses them a pair of lee's, with a worn in wallet and key mark, and the saggy butt accompanied by the tight ankles. Tosses him the conservative button up shirt and sais, "it's time…" He puts his head down and walks out the door…

But seriously! When do you reach that point when you wake up and you say, "This is it! This is what I'm wearing the REST of my life!"


Anyway…


Ultimately why I hate uncle sam is for THIS reason…


"I want YOU to yada yada yada!" OOOOH what a bunch of garbage! What a week sell out to the whole world! The original, "I want YOU to join the Union army!" …cool, that's cool Uncy Sammy its cool AND cute really... It's when he went CRAZY with this. "I want YOU to apply for a home equity loan…" "I want YOU to buy this night stand." "I want YOU to get a membership at gold's gym!" and I'm sitting back thinking to myself, "common, uncle!" I'm saying this as I'm thumbing thru the one's in my wallet… well I want YOU to lower taxes, I want YOU to ban abortion… I want YOU to ban gay marriages…. I want YOU to beet the south and ban slavery! GO UNION!!! And I want YOU to get a new job, and let the new young hip polar bear to replace you… YOU my friend… are FIRED!

Guys stay up till eleven to go to heaven. girls go to 7 because they're dumb. Hapy valentine's day

Well we're coming up on the great valentines day, just to remind all you losers without a gf/bf how lame you are. The most depressing holiday of the year. You know I went into the month of February thinking I was pretty cool. People liked me. But NO!! my hopes were DASHED with the appearance of St. Valentine's Day.

What I love about valentines day, is the support it gets with the elementary kids. Kids are GUNG HO for any holiday that involves more candy. These kids don't even know there's a difference between MALE, and FEMALE (except the girl has a dress on the bathroom sign.) But tac some candy on to it, and you've got yourself a holiday!!!

So I propose that we make a new holiday for JBUDD NEWS, in accordance with the mascot, “Steve.”

>>>>SIDE NOTE:
If you don't know what I'm talking to, in newsletter 4 I talk about how there should be just ONE mascot for ALL the holidays. And it should just be some guy named steve, that we can ALL relate to.

In creating this holiday, I had to search and ponder the true meaning of Steve. I wanted a holiday that EVERYONE can celebrate. Not JUST the JEWS... NOT just the CHRISTIANS. NOT JUST the lovers. But EVERYONE. And children from all around the globe will all know the true meaning behind it, not being MASKED by this vanity we call candy.

So the first step in celebrating this holiday, is KNOWING what to call it. So I nominate that the new holiday shall be called, “Goochmas!” and it will be celebrated on June 23. (my birthday)
The first thing one must do in celebrating “Goochmas” is to decorate of course! So to do so, you must either write the letter's “STEVE”, somewhere on your house. Or you can get a manican and put a sticker on it that says, “hello, my name is Steve.”
The spirit of Steve will go forth as kids from all over the lands have there parents BUY them a bag of candy. No more beating around the bush. We all know that if we had our kids WORK during the time they spent 'trick or treating' then they could BUY EONS more candy. This will also cut down the risk of going door to door, like our idiot brother holiday, “Halloween.” pshh. Some HOLIDAY! Kidnappings will decrease significantly. The old fashion razor blade in the caramel apple, will be exhausted. We all know it's totally old school anyway. BUT, I WILL allow carameled covered ONIONS from the parents. In a matter of fact, that will be a TRADITION!
All the kids in every home will wake up groggy on the morning of goochmas. Eyes half shut. They give the steve manican a little wave as they pass, and be SHOCKED in what they find under the traditional “goochmas tree” There will be PILES AND PILES of STEVE DOLLS. One for timmy, one for sue, and 3 for the jerk spoiled little brother that Steve always seems to like more. (But we all know that it's just mom and dad. ;) ) Then to their awe and dismay, they find the traditional carmeled onion in the “goochmas day stocking.” The kids look at it with delight in there eyes. Sparkling with tears that come from the acidic onions. Steve DID remember them! Steve IS real!

Then they BITE into the apple to the laughter of the parents as the kids find out that they aren't actually apples at all! No no no! They are onion covered RAZOR BLADES.



>>>>>ANYWAY #2

Kids don't understand what valentine's day is. I remember getting these cards from guys in my class that said, “be mine!” my first thought was, “a little demanding aren't we? Lets start off being friends FIRST, then we'll work from there, ok?” so one year I decided to save on production costs and produce my own cards! Instead of being suckered into the PREMADE cards that everyone else in the school already had. So after getting the hang of the system in kindergarten, I came prepared for first grade. I walked into class with my polarized sun glasses and my green 'cow' overalls. Ready to command and conquer all the women folk in the vicinity. with my homemade cards in hand I began to deal them out like a black jack dealer...

Well I just happened to keep one of the cards, so I scanned it in, Let's see what you guys think:





You know I was interested in knowing the origin of this crazy holiday, so I did a little bit of research to let 'jall know. This is strait from the New York Times. I just thought it was a cute story:

There was this hobo that used to walk up and down a street making suggestive comments to hot women as he passed. He used to say stuff such as:
you must be a rancher, because you've got some nice calf's!
Do you have a Library card, because I want to check you out!
Did you get a parking ticket! Because you are FINE!!!

So obviously this hobo received many slaps to his face, which turned his cheeks red and pink. Red on the left, and pink on the right. Which is where we get our color's for this holiday. Many hobo's started seeing his physical contact with the women folk, and started to join in. So this street became a street of love. A street full of hobo's trying to pick up on beautiful dames.
The street he walked up and down, was named, “valentines st.” which some people thought was, valentines street. But we all know that is was ACTUALLY “valentine's saint.” So we call it saint valentines day. And it's on February 14th because... it was... his birthday that day... yeah... that's it...
THE END

>>>>>ANYWAY#2
Well since it's the holiday of LOVE, I'm going to share with you some of my more recent wemen escapades.

As you should know from previous newsletters. I am the king at getting girls engaged. If I am ever with a girl, the very next guy they meet. They get engaged to. So I was currently up to 2 girls like this. Out of 2. So I thought it was ironic. Then I meet my 3rd girl.

Anyway, as of recent. I meet some prime meat in my ward. She just moved in at the semester. I see her at a dance, dance with her. We're a little more then a book of Mormon apart if you know what I mean. So during this week, I'm flirting with her, we're hanging out every night. And I'm teasing her because I know she wants to kiss me. So we're at the doorstep. I move in like I'm going in... and BAM, I open the door and push her inside. So the next night same situation. We're in position, I'm making fun of her, “I know you want it, what's your problem, you wuss just do it.” and she was like, “I don't care” so I say, ok. And open the door and push her in again. ANYWAY yada yada yada. 3 days later, I notice that she's not talking to me... Because apparently, she's engaged!!!! eff ya! GO ME!! I'M the official rebound guy!

So if any girl needs help getting married. Call me at 979-2578. My rates go as low as $30 a day. New york times called it, “Cheapest love since the 60's!”
Pick up your phone now, while supplies last!

>>>>>Anyway#3

So back to my Human Development class. We were learning about adoption. And some girl goes up in front of the class and tells us all about her experience of giving her child up for adoption. All the girls are going crazy asking all these questions, the 3 other guys and me are just sitting in the back falling asleep. You know, the usual.
So next class I sit next to this girl, I'm talking to her, we're having fun. Then all of a sudden, in the middle of class she grabs my paper I'm taking notes on, and writes the following. “if you get BORED tonight. Call me. 555-1212. heart Ashley.”
So of course I'm thinking the worst possible scenario. So long story short. I didn't call her. Call me a jerk if you must.

So back in the day's with girl number 2 to get engaged. So we go to classic skating. I'm Feeling good that I'm actually skating with a girl on the “snowball.” yelling at all the 6th grader's making fun of us. LIFE IS GOOD. SO I realize that the ball on my foot is REALLY hurting, from the rubbage of the skate. So what do I do? That's right, skate around for another hour. It's starts to hurt, so I go sit down on a bench next to this woman of african american decent, and take off my skate. I am pissed to find that my whole sock is SOAKED with BLOOD. Strait up BLOOD SOCK. That's what I had. The skate wore a whole through my SKIN. So the woman next to me sees it and starts up a conversation. She starts hitting on me. And eventually asks how old I am. I say “well madam, funny you should ask a strapping young man such as I. Me, and my huge bicepts are currently 18 years of age!” I say in my deep manly voice. And she busts up laughing.
“I'm here for my 6 year olds birthday party! ... I was going to ask if we could go out!”

fast forward a semester. I walk into human development for the first time. I don't recognize ANYONE. Except ONE person. Who happens to be that African American woman.
IRONIC.

So what's with the single parents hitting on me? I'M 18 DANG IT!!! I've got a MISSION to go on!!!

>>>>>ANYWAY #3

Let's do a quick story of the week, because MAN, it's really not that cool! Understand?

****Story of the week****

Lost my wallet on the bus. I'm freaking out in the morning. After I missed my first class, I finally borrow some money to get on the bus. And it just so HAPPENS to be the same bus driver that I lost my wallet with. Long story short. I have my wallet back...
THE END.

So that ends this portion. Now I'll open it up to some comments:

>>>>>SUCCESS STORY
Dear Bandit:
It has now been 46 days 1 hour 3 minutes and 52 seconds since my last
episode of sleepwalking. If you are not familiar with this, or have somehow
forgotten, during my finals week, a week of arduous physical, emotional
and mental expenditures to the extreme, I began a nightly regimen of
strange sleepwalking. Some nights i would pace the floors, dig through my
desk drawers, mutter responses at roommates, toss blakies, body-slam the
door, or even sleep study! It scared my room-mates rather quickly, and I
was often torn from my sleep to help me stop these crazy behaviors.
Eventually , (three days later) finals ended, and I moved home to vacate
the place for another room-mate to fill my place in N208.

It feels great to be free from this infirmity an astounding 46 days 1 hour
and 11 minutes; however, I am still in recovery. Sometimes, as I am told, I
will yell "Ben" in my sleep, or I will find myself waking in places I never
intended to fall asleep or wake-up. (In my closet, on my couch, in my
basement, on the floor in the hall, etc.) This is a true story form an
honest man. Take it as a joke, (a true one), but funny.
I love you dear!
Colin H. Freeman (Biscuit)

>>>>>REMARKS
Dear Biscuit
your success story is a complete UNDERSTATEMENT of what happened. Colin WAS insane. We have live footage, hard EVIDENCE of this event, It would be sweet to edit it and put it on google video. But I'de need his permission. Quick story:
So Colin's out of it. And me and my mysterious roommate try to talk to him. And he's starting to respond. And he's asleep. So tell we Gorden, and Gorden tells us a story of his uncle hypnotizing his sister in her sleep. SO we try it on Colin.
“hey colin, if you can hear me, lift your left leg”
leg lifts.
“good job. Ok Colin. When you go to leave for school this morning your going to go to the door, and get really thirsty, so you're going to open the door, and then turn around and get a drink of watter... If you heard me move your right leg”
leg moves.
“ok colin. You know that green shirt in your closet?”
leg moves
“you're going to wear that shirt tomorrow.”
leg moves.

SOOO. I'm eating my cheerios waiting for Colin to round the corner to see what shirt he's wearing. And behold... it IS the green shirt. So I start laughing. He starts asking, “WHAT?” all confused. So I'm like, “NOTHING!” so we go to leave out the door to school. All eyes in the apartment are on him to see what happens. He gets to the door and opens it and is outside. I think to myself. Dang it didn't work. ALL OF A SUDDEN he TURNS AROUND. All fast like. And he starts heading for the sink. I'm shaking my head and saying, NO WAY! And he drinks a nice big glass of water. And he's like, “what's your problem?”
and his side of the story is that he was really thirsty, and he was like, “I'll get a drink at school” then he stepped outside and all of sudden he thought, “NO! I'll get it NOW!”

Anyway, he was scary to sleep with. Me and my roommate who shant be named, were terrified, we would run out of the room in fear sometimes. He acted like the girl from the ring. We'd look over and he'd be sitting against the wall with a sheet over his head.

Once we found that we could get him to drum on his stomach and “jam out” with me. I'd drum something, and he'd copy and add a little. So we like played for like 5 minutes.
He tried drumming that fast when he was awake, and couldn't do it. Anyway...
Colin, you're a nut. NEXT!

>>>>>COMMENT:
your second grade mind came up with "a circular ball of possibility?!" what the crap did your parents feed you?!

>>>>>REMARKS:
well there WAS this one time, that I took a spoon out of the spoon drawer. walked right outside. and said to myself, "I'm going to eat this ground chocolate" and proceeded to eat mud. Maybe that's why...

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