Wednesday, March 18, 2009

We are sorry, but we reject you.

So after two rejections from the the two UC's I applied to, I have had an epiphany. Rejection is not that bad. I guess the only example of rejection from college I had before this is from the movie "Accepted" (best college movie ever next to Animal House). Rejection is depicted as a life shattering, dream cruncher that screws kids for the rest of their life. Well it made for a hilarious movie, but it's a load of crap!
Life goes on and I'm pumped with my college decision. I don't feel bad at all. Stress is gone. This goes out to all of my rejected homies, and those who yet to be rejected. Let me get a CHEEYA!

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


Okay so I was super excited to start on a Satire unit in AP English. I thought it would be cool, I could be sarcastic, laugh, and enjoy class.
But no!
European comedy. What the crap!?
I met ridiculous characters like Algernon and Candide. I mean, was this really considered funny? I see the irony and the point both Voltaire and Wilde are making. But couldn't they use more... intelligent character?
I don't know about you guys, but if I found the city of El Dorado, I'm not leaving. And what's with proposing to a chick when you first meet her? Maybe Europeans are just retarded. They do some other odd things too.
If anyone has a comment about this, let me know. Whether you agree or disagree with me.

The Adventures of Cory G in Phoenix

So I went to Phoenix this past weekend to watch Spring Training baseball. As most know, alot of professional baseball teams, including the Padres, hold their spring training in the A-Z. It was a pretty good trip. Kind of a mini-pre-spring break preview. It was chill.
So Friday after school my Dad, my brother and I set out on our adventure. We got to Phoenix about 10 PM, kinda. We forgot that Arizona is an hour ahead of California, so we found our selves wandering Phoenix at midnight. Not an ideal time and place. We settled in a motel that had horror flick written all over it. A couple of bums inhabited the parking lot, the lobby smelled of Indian food, and the pillows resembled an adolescent's acne ridden face. But, it was a place to sleep.
The next day we set out bright and early in search of a good breakfast. McMuffins it was. On our death march back to the motel, we witnessed a bum getting arrested. An exciting morning indeed.
Side note... Phoenix and the surrounding area has more cops than Temecula. Something I thought was impossible. I swear I saw a cop for every street corner, and each of them thought they were the ish. pfff.
We got lost on our way to Goodyear Stadium, springtime abode for the Cleveland Indians. We had bomb seats, but the Indians got smashed by the lowly Royals. It was okay though, Cleveland didn't play any of their starters.
That night we went to downtown Scottsdale. A pretty chill place overflowing with college students and old people. We went to an Italian resturaunt, pretty bomb food, but the waiters were kinda edgy. It made for an interesting meal. After about an hour, they requested that we leave because we weren't ordering any more food. This didn't go over well with Jay G. Within 30 seconds a relaxed meal turned into law suit in the making. Luckily Clay and I got up and left, pulling my dad along. He was shouting at the waiter as we left. Got out of there just in time to avoid the worst.
The next morning we were up later than before. we didn't know what we were going to do that day. the Padres were not going to be in Phoenix that day. Bummer. Though the Indians were still in town. Sweet! Off to Tempe!
We ate breakfast just off of the ASU campus. (Chico's is cooler). Finding a bar that served breakfast was a task. It was either that or Dunkin' Doughnuts.
We went to Phoenix Municipal Stadium where the Oakland A's wouls play the Indians. It was a better game than the previous. I got a signature from Jhonny Peralta (yes, that's how he spells Jhonny) and i was 10 ft away from Grady Siezmore and Travis Hafner. I felt like a tween girl at an N'SYNC concert. Clay even caught a Siezmore foul ball. Concert indeed.
So this was a chill trip. Something I needed, since I was in a pressure cooker beforehand. Spring break is going to be bomb. I can feel it.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

State of the Union

So I just watched Barrack Obama's State of the Union Address and I must say, I'm beginning to like him. As many know, I was John McCain supporter through the election, though I am pretty Independant.
I felt a little uncertain when Obama won the election because I doubted that he was all he was chalked up to be.
Though in the months since he took office I've warmed up to him. I appreciate the idea of the first black president, and that he is bold enough to take on anyone. I love to hear him speak, but that may be because I could not stand to hear old G. Dub Bush speak.
Obama hit me pretty hard tonight in his speech. He showed me that he truly believes in bipartisan politics; and that he will do what is neccessary for long term success, rather than short term gain. His interest is not in a buiseness, his local, or his party. His interest from what I have seen is in America.
The biggest thing he said tonight was, "The price of action is great, but the price of inaction is greater." I liked this quote because it not only applies in the current American crisis, but to life in general.
America has shot itself in the foot as far as I am concerned and it is in need of help; but I do now believe that Barrack Obama is the man for the job.

A tragedy of Biblical Proportions

My friends, there is an unseen tragedy in our midst. Here in Temecula there are evil forces at work that work under the the radar and never sleep.
For those who don't know, I'm talking about the absence of Padres apparel in our local stores. "How is this possible?" you may ask me. Well I will tell you how I unearthed this travesty. But I must warn you, it is graphic and I do not recommend it for the young, faint of heart, or the illiterate.
It was Monday afternoon, I had little homework so I decided to have a kick back afternoon. I was in need of a new hat, and the close proximity of baseball season prompted me to buy a Padres hat. I prefer the Navy Blue Away New Era On Field Cap, size 7 1/8. Not too much to ask. Or so I thought...
So I embarked on my seemingly short journey. I went to the bank, took out some cash, and headed over to Sports Authority (the only sporting goods store in south Temecula). I went to the back rack where the hats are found. I came upon the side that sold Angels hats, a good selection. I went to the other side where I had found Padres hats in the past. I was surprised to find that they only had cheap youth size Padres hats. I took a closer look, but had more further success. This troubled me, where were the Padres hats. I walked over to the baseball section, but no luck. Sport Authority had NO fitted Padres hats!
"It's okay," I said to myself, "Big 5 will have them."
I could not have been more wrong. The selection od baseball caps at Big 5 was sorrier than the Kansas City Royals' hopes to win the World Series. At this point it was no longer about the hat. No this was much bigger than a hat. It was about making a statement.
Thus my small errand turned into a mission of global scale.
I put the pedal to the medal as I took the back way to the Promenade Mall. Sport Chalet was my destination. Though upon arrival, I founf the same treasure trove of Angels hats, yet no Padres hats worth wearing. I found more Red Sox hats than Padres hats. At this point you can understand my frustration and the implications of this tragedy.
It was buisness time, I had to penetrate inside if I was to carry out my mission. That is, I had to take on the Monday afternoon crowd inside the mall.
Champs is well known for its sizable wall of hats. Sizable indeed. I found every color of Dodgers, Yankees, A's, and Angels hat. Ridiculous renitions of hats of teams that no longer exist, as well as hats from colleges I had never heard of. They did not even have an adult size Padres hat in the back, as the girl behind the counter seemed confused when I asked if she could check to see if they had any Navy Blue Padres Away hats. This hurt me where no man should be touched. Yes, my soul.
FYI, from Temecula it is 2,799 miles to Yankee Stadium, 88.1 miles to Dodger Stadium, and 62.4 miles to Angel Stadium. But it is a meager 61.3 miles to Petco Park, making the Padres out hometown team by default (excluding the Lake Elsinore Storm.)
So where, you ask, did I find my Padres hat and vanquish my metaphorical foe? It was at the relatively small sports memorabelia store Just For Fans in the northwest corner of the mall.
They, unlike the other stores, had a healthy selection of Padres hats. And I imediatly found a Navy Blue Padres Away New Era On Field Cap, size 7 1/8. I commended the cashier for her employers integrity, though she did not seem to understand my plight.
Moral of the story is, Temecula is retarded when it comes to its sports teams. It chooses to black out Padres games, its people would rather wear Yankees and Dodgers hats (which I proved with numerical evidence to be a sin), and nobody is doing anything about it. My call is this, boycott Sports Authority, Big 5, Sport Chalet, and Champs for their dissentry. And everybody go to Just For Fans, buy something, and give the cashier a firm handshake.
I hope my story inspires you to go out and stand up for this cause. Because, in the words of Barack Obama, "Though the price of action is high, the price of inaction is much worse."

Saturday, February 21, 2009

chris' house

Me and Jony and Derrick are sitting at Chris' house just kickin' it. Rock Band and acousto-jams are abundant. just one thing is missing, Chris. He's preoccupied, in his room, talkin' to his girlfriend. Which is understandable. It's kinda wierd though, kickin' it at Chris' without Chris.

Thursday, February 19, 2009


So I just finished a Political Party Project for Gov class right. It was supposed to help us to realize what political party we best match. But no... it was more like a political kick in the crotch! Reading about the Republican Party platform was like rubbing my face against a cheese grater. And don' get me started on Politicians. Their mudslinging is worse than that of teenage girls. I must say it was a traumatic 12 pages to write.

Moral of the story, politics suck.