Get TO IT

ya motherfuckers

Someone in the chumpstation...

...is sick of writing about Korean movie stars.

He'd rather shoot an experimental video.

or shoot some photography.

or shoot himself in the face.

GET HIM SOME VAULT, RIGHT NOW.

Hey Phil,

you there?

all quiet on the southern front

The south side of the chumpstation is the quiet side. The north side is often disturbed by the dull roar of El Shuttle and poorly-endowed ingrates on motorcycles. The east side, by far the most irritating side, hears the shouts and rants of drunk-tards on a semi-nightly basis. The west side, besides being home to the Westside Wino Fellowship (who, incidentally recently won a lawsuit against the World Wildlife Fund) frequently projects the exceptionally loud soundtrack of long-forgotten B-Movies and never-ending guitar solos.

Yes, the south side is by far the most serene side of the chumpstation. Maybe because it is occupied only by a brick wall and a dumpster. Maybe because it's fenced off and nobody can go there. Maybe, just maybe, our very own south side is the manifestation of nirvana here on earth.

in lighter news:

My printer is out of black ink.


this sucks.

tonight, of all nights, when I was going to print my 1000 page epic.

the thing shat out on page 997. Since the epic was unfinished, i burned the printed pages and deleted the text from my hard drive. The world is poorer because dell never got on its game and made everlasting ink cartridges.

If you are as disappointed as I am that the world will never see what was bound to be the piece of literature that defined our generation and want to voice your frustration to dell, you can contact them here.

never a dull moment

in breaking chumpstation news:

some junkie retard kicked in the front door of our building. no one was hurt, nothing got stolen, and the police didn't catch anyone. so, in case you're keeping score, all that happened is our door got broken and some junkie retard is a little bit more tired.

the realities of living on a block between a great neighborhood and a shitty one rear their ugly collective head once again. if it happens again, you can expect an update and a "brb, goin 2 the gun store" away message.

It's settled

In order to resolve the current conflict in Pakistan, I am now planning a bloodless (for the time being) coup. I shall become the new supreme ruler of Pakistan. I will have absolute power, but I will absolutely not be corrupted by said power.

Phil suggested the new nation should be called "Matt-istan." I disagree. I believe in order to send the right message to the region, the new state should be called "Superawesomedon'tfuckwithus-istan." It has a nice ring to it.

Mices and Mooses

I woke up with a mouse sitting on my sternum this morning. As soon as I opened my eyes, it laughed, bit me on the nose then scurried under the door into Emre's room.

We need that cat. Or perhaps a friendly neighborhood moose.

residence updates

one of our former house guests is soon to be a full-time 'station-dweller. cheaper rent and cable for all! also, a cat is still hopefully in the works.

the same brown-hatted couch-sleeper who nap-blocked matt startled me the other night when i wandered in at 3 AM. he had the blankets pulled up to his forehead, so the hat-man's identity remains a secret. hopefully, i'll have more information on this when we cross paths again.

Saturday, 3 AM

Some unknown male occupies the couch. When greeted by a newly orange-haired resident, the guest did not elaborate on his business in the chumpstation. Until further news develops, it will be assumed he is part of an elaborate plot to prevent a certain resident from sleeping on the couch again.

Title:

The Chumpstation is eerily quiet at 2.30 on a monday afternoon. I'd like to take a nap. BUT NON POSSO, CHUMPS.

Updates from the 'station

The Chumpstation is a four-bedroom apartment at the corner of 44th and Walnut streets inhabited by three college students with delusions of grandeur. Two of us do art, and the third is in training to become a soulless, corporate suit. The fourth bedroom is currently claimed by the odds and ends of a bike- and film-centric existence.

We're looking for a cat.

Phil smells

Like, wow.