One of my favorite things about summer has got to be the sno-cones. Whoever thought of taking frozen water and mixing it with radioactive looking syrup is a marketing genius. There's a snow-cone stand I discovered with my friend ChanAn (sounds like shenanigans) called Snow Beach. Apparently it's an Austin staple that I had never heard about...here's how the journey to Sno-Beach unfolded.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Me Gusta
Wow, I almost forgot I had a blog! (Kidding, I'm just really good at procrastinating. Who needs regular updates anyway...overrated!) Needless to say I'm still alive. I was actually considering deleting this blog under the pretext that no one actually reads it. Low and behold people do read my stuff! I'm going to attach a screenshot of my all time page views to prove it and boost my self esteem.
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| Click to enlarge! |
Despite the fact that approximately 80% of the views from the United States were me refreshing the page until someone commented on one of my posts and 10% were my mom, I am surprised that real people have even looked at this thing. In reality most of the page views are from people accidentally clicking on my link while googling obscure fetish porn, but I'm going to tell myself that 13 people in the Netherlands think I'm hilarious and charming. One thing I'm disappointed about is the amount of Internet Explorer users that read "But Now I Digress." May God help you...
But seriously, I am flattered that I have a teeny tiny following, it makes me feel like a rock star. That being said, I am going to make some changes. From now on, I will post more often. I know I've said this before, but that was mostly because my mother nagged me about how I never follow through with anything. SO - expect more posts. Compared to my current production track record, this should be an easy fix. And if you have anything you want me to write about / questions you want answered, email me!
camjam80@embarqmail.com
Who knows - you may be featured on the blog! On a scale from 1 to 10 with a one being "that time your parents forgot your birthday" and a ten being "that time you waited in line for the bathroom three spots behind Oprah"...being featured on my blog would probably be about a 2. Live long and prosper! And leave me comments to further enhance my feelings of paranoia and self-grandeur!
Who knows - you may be featured on the blog! On a scale from 1 to 10 with a one being "that time your parents forgot your birthday" and a ten being "that time you waited in line for the bathroom three spots behind Oprah"...being featured on my blog would probably be about a 2. Live long and prosper! And leave me comments to further enhance my feelings of paranoia and self-grandeur!
<3 Cam
Friday, April 1, 2011
Student Athletes
I'm a nerd. I look like a vampire because I spend my days in the library crying about how much I hate chemistry. My arms are little more than limp noodles from a bowl of Campbell's reduced fat chicken noodle soup. So when the following happens, I die a little inside.
It's happened to everyone: Walking along, minding your own business, the birds are chirping, the sky is blue, the grass is green (assuming we're on Earth where grass isn't jacked up). All of a sudden, an object of sporty origin - it could be a frisbee, baseball, football, etc. - arcs a little bit too far from someone's grasp, and lands right in front of you. From here, you are presented with several options. You could:
1) Keep on walking, and act like you didn't see the object, or that you're in too much of a hurry to stop and return it to the person. This will make you look like a total tool.
2) Pick up the object and walk it back to the person. This option is very safe, but people will think you are weird and/or laugh at your inability to throw anything more than three feet away from yourself.
3) Pick up the object and attempt to throw it back. Depending on your strength, dexterity, and confidence levels, there may be a chance the object will land gracefully in the receiver's hands.
This recently happened to me. A football happened to land near me on my way back from the library. (It was a Saturday, I really need a life) Anyway, I made the mistake of stopping to see a frat boy waving "HEY BRO OVER HERE. BRO!" Dread hit me like a brick wall. I picked up the football - there goes option number 1. I could make the walk of shame, but he was really REALLY far away. Like more than ten feet away - the odds of me throwing it and escaping with some dignity were less than that of Annakin blowing up the Death Star. I opted out of option 2, leaving only option 3. I was going to throw that football.
As soon as I decided on this, I realized the error in my decision. I can't throw anything except maybe my back out. And the wind was blowing kind of hard...chances are the football would blow off course and hit someone in the face...and my backpack was on - I can't throw with my backpack on, my genetics book weighed as much as a small child! As I mentioned earlier, strength as well as dexterity and confidence levels wigh very heavily on this option. Initially, my confidence was the only thing going for me. At this point, it was long gone...but the frat boy was waiting. My eyes met his - he really wanted his ball back. I really wanted him to get it back without me looking like an idiot. Despair consumed me. I grimaced and brought my arm back, then grotesquely hurled it forward as if it were a ramshackle medieval catapult. The moment of truth had arrived.
Like a dying bird flapping its last, the ball spun out of control and landed about ten feet away from its intended destination. "Uhhhh thanks" said the frat boy as he retrieved his prize. I muttered something casual and bro-like but hurried away to the refuge of my dorm room.
In conclusion, who needs to be coordinated? I consider being uncoordinated an ability to be proud of as well, kind of like being left handed.
Who am I kidding. I've got chemistry to do.
Cam
It's happened to everyone: Walking along, minding your own business, the birds are chirping, the sky is blue, the grass is green (assuming we're on Earth where grass isn't jacked up). All of a sudden, an object of sporty origin - it could be a frisbee, baseball, football, etc. - arcs a little bit too far from someone's grasp, and lands right in front of you. From here, you are presented with several options. You could:
1) Keep on walking, and act like you didn't see the object, or that you're in too much of a hurry to stop and return it to the person. This will make you look like a total tool.
2) Pick up the object and walk it back to the person. This option is very safe, but people will think you are weird and/or laugh at your inability to throw anything more than three feet away from yourself.
3) Pick up the object and attempt to throw it back. Depending on your strength, dexterity, and confidence levels, there may be a chance the object will land gracefully in the receiver's hands.
This recently happened to me. A football happened to land near me on my way back from the library. (It was a Saturday, I really need a life) Anyway, I made the mistake of stopping to see a frat boy waving "HEY BRO OVER HERE. BRO!" Dread hit me like a brick wall. I picked up the football - there goes option number 1. I could make the walk of shame, but he was really REALLY far away. Like more than ten feet away - the odds of me throwing it and escaping with some dignity were less than that of Annakin blowing up the Death Star. I opted out of option 2, leaving only option 3. I was going to throw that football.
As soon as I decided on this, I realized the error in my decision. I can't throw anything except maybe my back out. And the wind was blowing kind of hard...chances are the football would blow off course and hit someone in the face...and my backpack was on - I can't throw with my backpack on, my genetics book weighed as much as a small child! As I mentioned earlier, strength as well as dexterity and confidence levels wigh very heavily on this option. Initially, my confidence was the only thing going for me. At this point, it was long gone...but the frat boy was waiting. My eyes met his - he really wanted his ball back. I really wanted him to get it back without me looking like an idiot. Despair consumed me. I grimaced and brought my arm back, then grotesquely hurled it forward as if it were a ramshackle medieval catapult. The moment of truth had arrived.
Like a dying bird flapping its last, the ball spun out of control and landed about ten feet away from its intended destination. "Uhhhh thanks" said the frat boy as he retrieved his prize. I muttered something casual and bro-like but hurried away to the refuge of my dorm room.
In conclusion, who needs to be coordinated? I consider being uncoordinated an ability to be proud of as well, kind of like being left handed.
Who am I kidding. I've got chemistry to do.
Cam
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