Monday, September 29, 2003

When I went to the dentist on Tuesday, both he and the receptionist said what great teeth I have. They asked what my secret was. I wouldn't tell them but I'll let you lucky people in on it.

My Daily Oral Hygiene Regimen:

Brush Teeth
Eat Candy
Eat Chocolate
Eat Food
Drink Non-fluoridated Tap Water
Chew Gum
Brush Teeth
Floss, but only if Brittany tells me to

This post reminds me of an idea I had about a week ago for a different post. I read what I thought was a hysterical blog because the author used the word floss. I was then determined to use the word floss on my website. So, I went dancing with my friend and afterwards I drove around, intending to floss. Only I couldn't. Not in Provo and not in a 2000 Cavalier. The closest I ever came to flossing was back in 1995 when I was 17 and I was dragging State with my friend Brandi, in her red Tercel with cow print seat covers. We were listening to Live's "Thowing Copper" and staring straight ahead at all the stop lights because we were too afraid to talk to the guys in the cars next us.

Which is probably what Jay-Z is rapping about anyways.

Monday, September 22, 2003

Saturday in my aforementioned hip hop class we learned a new sexy move. It is similar to a move Beyonce does in her Crazy in Love video where she licks her finger and slides it down the front of her body. Sexy, right? How can a move like that possibly be Un-Sexy? Technically it becomes un-sexy, when you slap yourself in the face instead, when your hand is trying to make contract with your tongue and scratches your chin.

Also, my teacher Darrin is an outrageously cool black guy. A few weeks ago my status in the class was upped a notch when I got a nickname, "Greenie," after the green sweatshirt I wear to class each time. Saturday, I wore a white sweatshirt, so my new nickname is "White Boy" which he chants at me while I'm hitting myself in the face.

Monday, September 08, 2003

Knowing the calliber of readers this site attracts and lest all three of them begin to think Up Too Late exists merely for entertainment purposes, (although having read through some of my posts myself I'm unsure as to whether they really qualify as entertaining) I would like to present a question that has been troubling myself and my friend Brittany since our days of homelessness.

First, some contextual information.

Having no kitchen, as it were, to cook in, Brittany and I were forced to dine out for every meal. On one occasion, we decided to eat at Hogi Yogi. Now, I don't really remember any of this next part as my mind was under a haze of stress and denial, but it was something along these lines.

Brittany:"I love the way these brussel sprouts taste on my sandwich."
Me:"What are you talking about?"
B:"You know, the sprouts they put on the sandwiches, I like them."
Me: "Those aren't brussel sprouts. They're bean sprouts."
B:"Oh."

Both of us assumed the issue was closed. That is until Mindyn told Brittany they aren't even bean sprouts. They're something else, with a really wierd scientific name Britt can't remember, but said sounded plausible. We tried to solve this problem by going to Grant...a person we just met.

Me:"What are the sprouts they put on sandwiches?"
Grant: "You mean brussel sprouts?"
Me: "Nope."
G: "Well, what are brussel sprouts? Are they like asparagus?"
Me: "Ummm. They're both...uhhh...green. They look like mini heads of lettuce."

Well, as you can see, this conversation was doomed from the get-go, so I pose this question to you.

What do you call the sprouts on sandwiches?

I will tally the results and whichever response is the most common is right. No cheating and good luck!

Thursday, September 04, 2003

Last week, if I were thinking responsibly, should have been titled "My Experiment in Homelessness," however it will be instead "Fruitless Attempts to See Radiohead." There is really nothing to say other than the day I have been waiting for since Fall '00, came and went. In an effort to get to the show, I rekindled old friendships, inserted Radiohead references in any and all conversations, and watched re-runs of MTV's Real Life: I am a groupie. Although I did not reach my goal, things, of course, were learned.

1. Neil lives on Center Street.
2. Todd likes the Postal Service.
3. Someone, who will remain nameless, can afford trips to Italy, but not trips to the Usana Ampitheater.
4. Tres would like to keep our friendship at a purely non-hanging out level.

Stay tuned for my next blogging installment, when I reveal what is to be done with all this meaningful information.