(Pt. 4) Ritalian Stallion*

This is my 200th blog post. Now, I understand that posting blogs on MySpace is pretty not-cool in the overall blogosphere world or something, and I have been thinking about maybe switching over to a less re-re blog-specific site of some sort for a while now. I basically have been doing this for one year now. Any suggestions would be apreeshed. Anyhowways, it's fun writing, drawing, posting songs, pictures, and all that, and it's good to see other people being creative together and getting into what everyone is doing.

When my family was in town a few weeks ago, my mom told me that she had heard that I have a blog, and asked me if what I write was OK for parents to read. I told her that it was fine, that my stuff is parent-friendly, and that there's not really anything here that she would find surprising. So, my mom recently checked out my blog for the first time a few days ago and when we were talking on the phone yesterday she told me to make sure I didn't use Ritalin again. I told her that should not be a problem. She didn't seem too concerned, I think she was just making fun of me in that way that moms sometimes do. I am the kid who forgets to file his taxes and doesn't tell his parents that he had a date to the prom in the 10th grade until the day of. There are a MILLION things that my parents could make fun of me for.  I just remembered one:

The summer of my 21st-22nd year on this planet, my parents moved from West Lafayette to Lafayette, and for a time, they had possession of both houses, although the house in Lafayette didn't have working plumbing yet. Greg and I would go over there at night to the new house and jam, since there wasn't anybody living there, there weren't really any neighbors, and there was this wickedly thick carpeting that made it so sound did not travel more than about five feet, it seemed. We were both getting into recording, and we had a little setup there and would invite friends over and record our sounds. This is where our super-group Sun Nation would get its start. At the new house there was a case of bottled water there, which we did a good job of drinking. When it came time to go to the bathroom, I peed in the empty bottles of water (which was kind of unpleasant because they weren't particularly large bottles, so it usually involved "cutting it off" halfway through and then starting to pee in a new one). Being consumed by the music-making process, or something, I didn't really know where to put these pee bottles, and hastily just put them in the area behind my amp in between the wall, each time thinking to myself, "OK, I really have to remember to get rid of those before we move in here" (this of course never happened). I forgot about the bottles, and one day long after the plumbing situation had been figured out in my parents' new house, my mom very casually mentions "Oh yeah, and I got rid of those bottles full of urine behind your amp." And I was all like "Oooooooops!"

But you know, it's cool.

* I'm kind of torn as to which is the best title for this blog. I asked for help with Ritalin-based puns in Ritalin comic pt. 3, and two of my amigos suggested the following: "Waiting for Mr. Rit" and "Ritallica: Some Kind of Monster." Pretty good, right? I will glady disclose the identities of these amazing geniuses, with their approval.