Welcome home,

Hey you! Glad to see you made it back. Crazy weekend right? Ha, yeah, good one. Me? I actually went up to New Paltz. Yeah. Pretty cool. Well I took the bus, then DJ came up too and we drove back yesterday. Good times. How about you? Really? This entire time you’ve been waiting for my next blog post? Oh shit, I’m sorry about that, I had no idea. The banner? Well, yeah, of course, I realize. I know. Yes, I know what it means. Well, we have a different definition of “daily” here, so why don’t you chill out. Listen I’m giving you the blog right now, shut up:

As many of you know I am an excellent writer and a really terrific literary analyst. Exhibit A: this blog. What some people are failing to realize, however,  is (unlike most worker-bee drones) I know how to separate work and play. Just because I am a truly extrodinary master of letters does not mean I have imbued my daily life with literary jibber-jab.  The reason I bring this up is because many people (fans) have been complimenting me on the brilliant literary devices I have been adding to my Facebook pictures.

Let me make myself clear: I am NOT purposefully posting photographs with figurative meanings, symbolic readings or any sort of metaphoric level.

Again:  Any pictures of me that are floating around the web are just that, floating pictures. Please stop reading into these pictures and coming up with absurd conclusions about my personal life.

I understand that some of you A) have not been assuming all pictures of me have metaphoric meanings, B) are not even friends with me on Facebook, or C) are not even 100% sure who I am, but I still want to make things crystal clear for those of you who have been berating me with these slanderous e-mails.

Here are some of the pictures that have been garnering the most poppycock:

The Precipice

People see this picture and seem to think I am trying to represent some type of interior conflict. My figure stands looking off into the distance longingly, balanced precariously between a higher and lower body of water.  Yes, I understand this picture was taken in the Spring (a time of rebirth) and that there were many new changes on my horizon. Just for example, DJ would be moving out of New Paltz and we would no longer be living together. Sure, that was a big change, but was it something I was mulling over at this point? No, it wasn’t. I was just enjoying a hike in the woods.

The Sojourn

Here’s another picture that has gotten too much uncalled-for interpretation. It’s a picture of DJ and I walking down a path into a distant, dark brush. Now some people have been hassling me; they seem to think this picture is some metaphor for DJ and I traveling down the road of life: spending time together as two good friends, striding side-by-side with feelings of glee and jollity. These same critics will then make some kind of argument like, “the dark woods you’re approaching represent your encroaching separation and the unknown future that you must both now confront.” That is, of course, completely off base. Again, we are just going on a hike here. I think we were talking about cool it would be to stage a sword-fight battle on that open terrain. We were not meditating on what the future held.

The Hermit

People look at this picture and then immediately turn to me and say, “Roy, why are you trying to shield yourself from the truth?” I then turn to these people, wide-eyed, and say, “What in the Lord’s name are you talking about?” To which these people reply, “Roy, the metaphors couldn’t be more easily presented. You have constructed a fairly exact model of DJ’s skull and wore it over your head. The fear of losing DJ has blinded you to the future and you are now stuck in a stagnant pool of indecision. Your life feels void and you don’t know which direction to turn.” I’m usually stunned at this point and can only insist, “No, that’s not it at all…this was just me walking around campus… I found that on top of pile of trash…”

But no one ever wants to here my logical explanations, they just like the flash and glam of their meandering hypotheses.

The Trials

Finally, people have found this picture of me in my new apartment to be quite symbolic. Why do people seem to think that my half-grown moustache, half-lit room and half-drank cream ale are depressing images? Again the metaphoric interpretations abound when people see this picture. The new apartment symbolizes my new life; I feebely attempt to find a comfort as I reassemble the “puzzle” of my exsistence. The loneliness of not living with DJ is slowing eating me alive from the inside out. That’s not it at all!! I’m having tons of fun in this picture, can’t you see that?! I don’t even mind that I won’t be living with DJ this fall!! Knock it off!! Yes, I’m listening to Mastodon right now, but not just because it reminds me of DJ!!

I’m not crying!! Close the door!! Let me work on my puzzle!! I’m not crying!!!

If you aren’t an alarmist FoxNews viewer, you’re probably not familiar with the term “sexting.” Clearly, I am. Sexting is the awful play on words that describes when one individual, by their own choosing, takes a naked picture of themself and sends it to someone else via SMS (Short Message Service). The solution to this scourge? Giving the sweet naked pics to this guy. What kills me about the following quote is the use of the sentence structure to create a scene which resembles that of a real job and attorney should be doing, like reviewing photos of the scene of a murder, rape, minor traffic violation, etc.:

Photos of their semi-nude or scantily clad teenage daughters were stacked before him. Mr. Skumanick said the images had been discovered on cellphones confiscated at the local high school.

I can’t believe this is really an issue parents (or anyone) is shocked by. It’s 2009 – could you dolts really be so naive to think your kids aren’t using every piece of technology almost exclusively for personal sexual gratification?

The first text ever.

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There is a ton of evidence finally being associated with me and it’s high time we acknowledge it. I’m finally being accepted as a straight twenty-something guy. In the four years since I’ve left High School, I have  let H&M, my fragile bones and my love for colors allow me to appear like a homosexual. While, I don’t have anything against gay men, I think it’s important for people to realize I am not one.

Let’s take a look at my progression from “fashion forward” to “don’t touch me or I’ll have DJ knock your teeth out.”

Here’s the earliest picture of me on Facebook:

Look at this guy! Just in some typical lounge wear, you know straightened hair, a painted American Apparel track jacket, patched jeans. I’m not trying at all! What? You want to make out and listen to some indie British bands? Well OK!

See the rest of the fellas on the runaway after the jump…

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There is a ton of evidence stacking up against me and it’s high time I acknowledge it. I’m becoming a piece of white trash human garbage. In the four years since I’ve left High School, I have absolutely let the semi-freedom of college destroy me as a person. While, I’m very comfortable with the latest incarnation of me, I think it’s important to look back at where I came from.

Here’s the earliest picture of me on Facebook:

Look at this sweet boy with his girlfriend enjoying a delicious lollipop after a day at the mall. Oh, look he has a Metallica cap on. You bought it where? Hot Topic? Precious.

I dare you to follow the jump and keep reading.

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If you are a Facebook user then you have undoubtedly seen these cartoon group tagging pictures;  you may have even been tagged in one. It’s a way to almost, kind of, psuedo-bond with people you are somewhat acquainted with. You get to sort of compliment people by reducing them to a positive stereotype. Fun! Look how creative and clever you look! After tagging up the photo, you get to see the comments roll in and soon your in-box is cluttered with notifications.

But maybe you’re like me. You actually communicate with your friends and talk to them in person, or on the electric telephone, or at least on instant messenger. I’ve found that Facebook suddenly wants me to start “liking” everything. Well, guess what, I don’t like everything. I also don’t like everyone.

So, I’ve developed this picture. Feel free to save it, post it, tag it and insult people passive-aggressively.

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I’ve been hanging out with Regis Philbin a lot recently and he has been chatting my ear off incessantly over his favorite college football team the “Notre Dame Fighting Irish.” I happen to be a pretty Irish fellow (50%), and if you need more proof than just genetics consider this: last St. Patrick’s Day I watched a parade in Cork, Ireland, got drunk off Guinness, saw old men with brogues play jigs with fiddles and woke the next morning to kiss the Blarney Stone. I’m sure I ate a potato and got in a enormous brawl somewhere in the middle of that too, so rest assured that I am familiar with Irish stereotypes. But you know who isn’t familiar with mass generalizations? Theodore W. Drake, designer of Notre Dame’s Fighting Irish Leprechaun Mascot.

Who is this schmuck?

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So the Dark Knight finally hits stores on DVD! While it might not be the DVD you want right now, it’s definitely the purchase you deserve. Everyone is ecstatic about this release. Even Walt Disney, and he’s frozen! The only person who isn’t excited about this epic release is Bruce Wayne himself. Why is Bruce so miserable? If he can trust Alfred, why doesn’t he have a group of friends, too? This dude consistently acts like the Counting Crows’ Adam Duritz mourning the death of a goldfish. As always, you can count on SmartassRadio.com to provide you with the answers you need through research and study. Look at what we found – Bruce Wayne’s Facebook! No surprises here folks. Check it out…

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