December 17th

Yesterday, Drew Simpson alerted me to the fact that my site had been banned from the school compuers. Well, they didn't do a very good job because I unbanned myself with my uber l33t haxx0r skillz. I think my next statement deserves a large font size.

HAHA! YOU CANNOT BAN ME! I AM INVINCIBLE

Yeah that felt real good. In other news, I noticed after we shot my movie some gameboy games of mine were missing. I didn't really think much of it, I thought someone had just played with it and put the games somewhere else.

Yeah, well, I can't find them anywhere. I'm 99% sure some asshole took them. I think it was Will Silver but if it was he won't admit to it. Honestly, just give them back whoever. If you're afraid of me getting pissed off and kicking your ass, trust me when I say I'll be a lot less pissed off if I get them back. Hell, I'll give my copy of Fire Pro Wrestling to you if you give em back. The games missing are Phantasy Star Collection, Street Fighter Alpha 3 and Megaman Battle Network 3: White. I don't care that much about Street Fighter Alpha 3, and while I like Phantasy Star Collection I wasn't that far and could buy a new copy for like $10 if it came down to it. But dude, you just had to fucking steal Megaman. I have about 48 hours of gameplay logged on that thing and I was on the FINAL FUCKING BOSS. I can't just buy a new copy and spend another 48 hours of my life trying to get back all the chips and other shit I had. Now Megaman Battle Network 4 is going to come out, and it's going to be so empty trying to play it without knowing what happened at the end of 3. For all I know, Megaman could be the fucking reincarnation of Jesus and I'll never know because some asshat stole it before I could finish it.

Please just give me back my games, for the love of god. Anyone with any information on whoever stole my shit should e-mail me. I'm not going to call the cops or whatever. I just want to beat Megaman Battle Network 3 before I die.

Also, Josh is better than me at photoshop, as evidenced by evil weasel satan boy Peter Federman. I don't mind that much because I know I could probobly beat up Josh in a fight. And Eddy keeps pestering me to post that McDonald's story... so I'll do it like tomorrow I guess. And if anyone is still reading this, you can feel free to buy me one of these t-shirts for christmas. I think I need the Bukkake shirt.

December 10th

I fucking hate Dreamweaver so much. Aside from always fucking underlining shit that doesn't need to be underlined GOD DAMNIT STOP UNDERLINING. Everytime I remotely (GOD DAMNIT) try to change this little text box, the fucking sidebar makes sure to move halfway down the page. It pisses me off to no end. So if I ever go a week without updating, you can pretty much just guess I got fucking mad at Dreamweaver or something. That explains why the sidebar isn't here today (I sware to god I'm not underlining this on my own I fucking hate dreamweaver.)

Anyway, Mr. Minks hates me or something. Our first assignment was to write a story about our partner, which is good because Max made sure not to tell me anything about himself that I could actually use to craft a story. So, I crafted a three page epic detailing the adventures of Max as a rogue cop and his crazy mexican partner Carlos as they try and take down a crazed Grimace, who has gone crazy, butchering and eating Ronald McDonald, the Hamburglar, and Mayor McCheese. And of course, nothing can kill the Grimace. After an enthusiastic reading where I even acted out the firing of the AK47s, Mr. Minks just kinda flipped out. He told me that it sounded like a video game, and I came to learn that anything overly violent is like a video game in Mr. Minks' eyes. Then he told me it wasn't original.

I'm sorry, how is the Grimace fucking ripping Mayor McCheese apart not original? That's just comic genius. I mean, yeah, it was dumb and stupid, but I was writing to entertain all my dumbass teenage classmates, not to fucking wax philosophical about Max's home life. I love how everyone in the class just flipped out on Mr. Minks and told him how great they found my story. I love my classmates. Mr. Minks got really mad at the whole class and just lectured us for the rest of the period. Our next assignment is to demonstrate how to do something to the class. Yeah... I don't really have any talents. I was thinking about just bringing in Street Fighter and showing the class how to do a Shoryuken with Ken or whatever, but I doubt Mr. Minks regards video games as informational. God I hate old people.

Programming pisses the shit out of me because I know nothing good will come out of it. I mean, I spent three months learning BASIC so I could program a terrible frogger ripoff (It was called "Jimmy versus the Trucks," make your own conclusions). I wish Ms. Koch didn't take down the page of all the past student projects because they're so fucking terrible it's rediculous. I mean, there was absolutely nothing on there that even resembled a game, except for maybe "Save The Flamingo." Damnit, I have to find those game, they make me cry they're so bad.

As for Ms. Mafi. I don't know why but I'm just want to hate her. I don't really have a reason for it, she just smiles too much for it to be natural. It's just when she hands out a list of stupid goddamn rules (cleverly titled "Ms. Mafi's guide to success) I get kind of pissed off. I highlighted that whole, what not to do thing, because it basically outlines what I plan to do every class period, as illustrated. I'm so funny it hurts inside.

Also, I got my first detention in two years. You all remember my little note to the FBLA. Well, aparently the school system thinks I was disrespectful. See, they just don't get it. If they had let it slide, it would've remained nothing more than a cute little joke that we could all forget about. But no, now IT'S WAR. They just had to fuck with me. I officially declare war on the FBLA. Officially. Also, I have to write an apology note to Ms. Shea, who aparently runs this group of money-hungry bastards. Yeah, that's a riot, I have to make a fake apology. Like, I thought an apology was supposed to be an admission of guilt. I ADMIT NO WRONGDOING! The FBLA is a group of terrorists who must be stopped. My first strike? My apology letter will most likely contain numberous grammatical errors, including but not limited to; frequent misuse of the three forms of "there." Childish? Yes. But it still makes me laugh.

Not a whole lot else has been happening. I saw Eddy's new show. It was creative... almost good even. He's still a hack compared to me though. And we need a drummer for our totally awesome band which is in fact totally awesome. Also, Sega is fucking insane. It's like they pay people to come up with the most retarded ideas for a game ever. I mean, what did somebody say?

"Well, I like Virtua Fighter, but it should be set 1000 years in the future, have absolutely nothing to do with the original games at all, and oh yeah, maybe you could throw a robot in there or something."

Oh yeah, and we had an assembly for Latin pride today. I don't know what Asian Mike popping and locking from here to sunday has to do with Latin pride, but it sure does make me smile. And they need to bring back Clone High, because Clone High is the second funniest cartoon ever, right behind Family Guy. Download "Raisin' The Stakes" if you enjoy laughter. Let's end with a quote from JFK.

"Hey, let's all go swimming in my pool! And by pool I mean bathtub! And by swimming, I mean sex!"

Classic.

December 2nd

Welcome to a new month here on The Chris Gesualdi Experience. For those of you who keep asking me where the content on my page is, pay attention. This site for now mostly just acts as my blog, meaning I write about how terribly interesting my life is, and all of you slowly learn to appreciate and worship me. Like, Wil Wheaton, or Becky. Yeah, it's exciting.

Anyway, today we got our new class assignments. I have Mr. Moran for A Period study hall, which is good because I absolutely hate Mr. Moran. I don't know how to describe it. It's just an unexplainable rage that builds up inside me whenever he talks. Maybe I just hate Math, or old people or something. He's also completely senile. On no less than two occassions, he has said "Dog ate your mittens eh?" when someone forgot their homework. Dog Ate Your Mittens. I mean, it doesn't take a genius to step back and realize "Wait, I must've said that wrong because it makes no sense whatsoever." But not Mr. Moran, because even when I suggest that he might've meant "Dog ate your homework," he tells me "No, no, It's an old saying." Well, it must be pretty fucking old because at least I know no one in the history of the internet has ever said "dog ate your mittens."

All my other new teachers seem ok. I got Mr. Minks for Oral Communication, and I have to write a three page story about my partner Max. He's writing about me fighting in Vietnam. Not the pussy Vietnam either, the one in space. Vietnam 20XX (I just like saying "Twenty Exty Ex"). And my social studies teacher Ms. Mafi seems... you know, I keep seeing the word lesbian in my head but I know it isn't the right one. She doesn't seem to like Rob Moss, Scott and I constantly cracking jokes though. The thing is that we've been making fun of all our other teachers for a whole trimester now, now we finally get some new material, it's like a breath of fresh air. Speaking of new material, Ms. Mafi would be hot if it wasn't for the giant god damn gap in her teeth. Zing! It's times like these I'm glad no one reads this page.

I'm assuming that someone in one of Mr. Larsheveque's computer graphics class will notice my poster and visit this page. Let me just tell you that Mr. Larsheveque probobly hates you already, and that you will most likely spend more time listening to him talk about how much he hates his life than you will actually picking up skills. If he starts talking about his butterflies, run, and if he tries to show you his pride and joy, the Butterfly King video, burn the VCR. The high point of this man's life was making a nature video in college, and everything has just been one painful downhill slide from there. It's just sad to watch.

Ahh, I'm just kidding Mr. Larsheveque, I love you and your radio show which I have gone out of my way never to listen to. And your class has taught me how to insert my picture into porn images for use in witty internet forum arguements. If that picture offends you than it's doing its intended purpose.

Oh yeah, and programming in Java is painfully complicated and hurts my head. The worst part is that my teacher is Nina Koch, who taught BASIC last year. The only fond memories I have of that class was that Ms. Koch has like, some disability where she can't look at things that flash without almost having a seizure, which is a good thing for a BASIC teacher to have considering that 99% of all BASIC programs flash in one way or another. Howard had a lot of fun making the most blindingly frantic jumbles of colors in a hope to knock her out. Howard is a terrible person.

Also, I made this in photoshop. It made me feel really cool. And no I didn't draw the girl, I just stole her from some doujin. It still looks cool though. And Josh says we can name our band Crucked, which makes me very happy.

Cruck you later kids.