Are You Ready For Some Football
Why I Should Not Be A Coach On A NFL Team
updated every Tuesday
who am i? where am i? what am i doing?
a small man named mike saul created this web
page to fill time. he is 23 and growing tired of things, but hope exists in his life, even if it is
only a small cup hanging from his key chain. he can be found in Chicago.
other things i do but only rarely
thinking about hesterman
cigarettes and isotopes
girls, cars & surfing
i know this much is true
i woke up in a strange place
the morning news
same day different rat
calvin and hobbes
my new fighting technique is unstoppable
what jail is like
To Find A Full Time Job
1. To buy the Game Cube.
2. Pay the bills.
3. Find fullfillment in life?!
4. Make myself look busy.
5. They might teach me more hints to fly.
created by me in 2001
The best character in the latest Ocean's 11 movie is the one named Saul. He is the best. I chuckled every time his name
It has happened, for the first time since I moved sideways (Chicago is East of my home town) I will be working 5 days in
one week! I'm thrilled. I feel rich, even though I'm still so poor. 5 days. I had to get up everyday with an alarm.
It would be dark when I leave for work, and dark when I get home from work. This lifestyle. It is strange to me.
No one talks to me at work. It is weird. I don't understand it at all. I'm a nice guy. People tell me so, usually
then with a direct question concerning my lack of relationships following the above said comment of me being nice. But
all I do is listen to my music, type away with my right hand (numerical data entry is the best) and every once in a while
dance in my chair. I just don't get it.
All day I have felt the incredible urge to sing and dance. That or the complete opposite, break things, run around
and yell. At the office I just wanted to sing my heart out. Feel some emotion. I feel very closed off right now.
Something about not letting any emotions out. I flip flop between sad and happy. Like my mind is trying to force me
to be unhappy, but my body is like "hey mind, screw you. It's almost Christmas. Things look jolly. Suck it up." So
instead I sit in this state of utter confusion.
The amount of time I have to think at work is excruciating. If only the simple decision was made and I went through with
it, and just dealt with the consequences instead of being all wishy washy and stoopud.
I understand that when I watched the Sopranos I talked about being in the mob and stuff. I'm still planning on that, it
is just taking some time. But another HBO (it's not tv, it hbo) show,
Six Feet Under, is being replayed on Wednesday nights. This show is almost as good, if not better than the Sopranos.
It makes me laugh, cry, and feel really really creepy inside as I feel my soul die. It is about a family who runs a
funeral parlor, and it is just weird. I only saw a few of the episodes when it was first shown, but now I plan to
watch them all. Do not worry. There are no plans for me to start working in a funeral parlor. Unless of course I
could start soon, and have some benefits. I do need a job and all.
Just a reminder folks. Watch the damn Tick tonight, 7:30 central time. It is still good, so good it might be canceled.
I held out! It finally happened. My temp agency called again offering me the job of sitting and watching the Judge
Mathis show get taped. Now, I'm not complaining about that job. It is an easy job. I sit there, look amused, stand
when I'm told to stand, sit when I'm told to sit, and wait to be discovered by all of the possible scouts watching the
show to find the next Tom Hanks. I could be Tom Hanks! The last time I did this job I got a signed photograph of Judge
Mathis himself. The problem is that the day barely pays for itself. But I held out. The temp agency called today
offering something that pays almost double what the Judge Mathis show pays. I'm so good. Will power increasing!
Shame on me. I didn't update the fantasy football page all week, and as a punishment I lost
again this week. Never bet on the Arizona Cardinals to bring you big fantasy football points. Except David Boston. He
is named after a large cool city, and that is pretty tough.
I'm going to buy more Christmas Lights now. Bye.
*Warning* Michael went out tonight and had a few drinks. Due to these events he has allowed himself to reach a state where
what he says may not be true...but also may be the strongest thing he knows to the truth. According to the laws passed
in 1952 he is given the right to withdraw 1 to 3 of the comments he states with no harm coming to himself or those
mentioned in those stated above comments. With this formality taken care of, on to today's post. *Warning*
Where the hell have I been? Oh yeah. Working. I'm so sorry you faithful readers for not writing in the last few days.
I actually have been given some real work to do. The people have to pay rent and all. Don't worry. It won't last long,
and I will be back to my usual self of writing everyday about how hard it is to find a job in these trying times. But
until then I'm working at a research firm getting an impressive amount of workout for my right hand. Not that way folks,
just the 10 keypad on a keyboard. Numerical data entry. Got to love it! So far all I have learned is that children
over the age of 10 feel that Legos are not interesting anymore. All they want to do is play with their creative, and
original mind you, making video game systems. How do children actually believe that video games increase your creativity
and allow you control on what goes on in the games? Sometimes children are stoopud.
There is something about a six year old playing with a fogged up window on the bus. Usually it consists of smiles made by
yours truly. This child does not strike me as the stoopud one.
As a reward for being a productive member of society, instead of the leech that I have evolved into, I bought myself a
2-liter of cream soda. I let it sit on my counter for 15 minutes, and then proceeded to enter heaven by opening it.
The taste was already hitting my mouth, and it wasn't due to the fact that I haven't eaten or drank anything all day.
I just love cream soda. When I opened it the 2-liter made that fizz noise telling me that it was not going to blow up
on me. Instead when I opened it a little more the 2-liter exploded onto my kitchen floor, getting our table, chairs,
kitchen floor and my puzzle all sticky wet with cream soda. Over half of the 2-liter was empty and everything was
sticky. All I could do was hold onto the bottle, wipe off the soda from my glasses and chuckle.
While we were drinking a friend asked me what I thought my ideal woman would be. For how much time I've been single you
would think I would have an answer, but in reality I do not. I don't go out expecting to meet a certain kind of woman.
Most of the time if I meet a girl there will be no attraction what so ever. The attraction comes with time after I get to
know them a little better. I still don't have an answer to my friend's question. I do know that my ideal woman, a woman
I'm attracted to, is someone I fall for emotionally. It could be a subtle touch on my arm where all of a sudden my heart
and mind tell me that this is the one. I know this 'ideal' girl is someone I'm not forced to make conversation with, it
comes naturally. Looks do play a part (if I'm going to be honest, I should be honest) but it isn't everything. Most of
the time it falls away to oblivion, but they do matter. It usually means that if I'm attracted to a girl, and she looks
really good a certain night, it might cause a little more pain since I'm still trying to figure out how to let the girl
know I like her (we must have already entered the friend stage so just telling her might cause too many problems). Mostly
this paragraph is about I have no answer to what I want my ideal woman to be. My ideal woman is just the girl I'm
attracted to, starting with my emotions towards her. This brings about the stoopudidity of me, and it all falls
apart from there.
Wait! Wait! Stop reading that last paragraph. I would like to strike that one. Whew. I'm glad I didn't open my
heart up too much. I might have actually said something meaningful until I realized that this is just a web page.
Sometimes I sound too emo it hurts. MY HEART IS BREAKING. Cute Russian Girl how do you keep your socks so white?
Well, it being late and I already mentioned the whole working thing, I think I'm going to bed. Have a good weekend folks,
and if you read this on Monday, Christmas is right around the corner. Cheer up and smile. Things seem to make a bit of
sense during this season.
Something about the way vanilla ice cream looks with some chocolate syrup on it makes you think that your life seems
bright and the world appears to be an okay place.
I like ice cream.
It's amazing how quickly my mood has been changing. For example three days last week I was the highest flying kite in
the world. I looked like a big bear's head and I was just flying around (maybe a kite is something I should think about
when I'm trying to fly), then a simple comment sent my mood plummeting. It sent the small amount of confidence that was
building down in a drain. Now I felt like I was back in my Indian
Guides (Go Blackfoot) group flying kites to see who could get the highest, and mine was just flopping around the
wind. Then I would send my kite flying into another kids sending both of our kites to the ground. I would look up from
my large coke bottle like glasses with my small red shorts and look around in a state of confusion. Yeah it was something
just like that...except nothing like that at all. Except the kite analogy. It's just like the kite analogy.
I have so many Indian Guide stories it might hurt the brain.
It's nice to know that there are so many temps out here in the city. It makes me feel better knowing everyone else can't
find a job to save their lives.
I met someone who knows the people who live above me. I asked if he knew what they thought about us or if we were ever
too loud. The only thing he said was that we watched a lot of sports. This must be due to Sunday football where we
yell something along the lines of "Mike Brown is the smartest man in football!" or "You are one fat man!" Maybe it is
the statement, "The Steelers are the greatest team of all time." (said by our local Pittsburgh fan) Or it could just be
the groans we make when the Bears suck it up but still pull off a win. Screw you Packers!
My car stalled for the first time that I can remember this past weekend. It was during the Toys for Tots parade which
consisted of many many bikers wearing Santa hats driving down the most traveled street near my house. Then I saw a
biker give a guy a head lock causing a bloody nose. I think the biker wanted to give a child the head of that man.
That child would open his present and look at it, put it on large stick, walk around with it, play games such as
Monopoly and Life with it, and brag to his friends about how cool his new best friend is. The head's name would