tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76355112011-04-21T13:55:56.571-07:00There is no way that anyone will believe that this is actually my lifefrank cristnoreply@blogger.comBlogger71100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635511.post-1160593907463814162006-10-11T12:11:00.000-07:002006-10-11T12:11:47.656-07:00

Did Sisyphus know that he was doomed to fail? That he would never actually be able to push the boulder over the hill?(as overheard at work today)

frank cristnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635511.post-1090984540283229422004-07-27T20:15:00.000-07:002004-07-27T20:15:40.283-07:00

The Black Mass

frank cristnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635511.post-1090388176800835522004-07-20T22:25:00.000-07:002004-07-20T22:36:16.800-07:00

Ugly.  Murderous.  That's how I feel right now.  Alone, lonely, bored, depressed and not productive.  Something I can wrap my hands around, squeeze the life out of, then dispose with the aid of a meat cleaver and an un-backed-up shower drain. Nothing has happened to make it like this, except that it's the way that I feel.  So much time.  Soooo much time.  Every day it looks like this: 10-12

frank cristnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635511.post-1089857615959171302004-07-14T18:54:00.000-07:002004-07-14T19:13:35.960-07:00

There are some things about myself that I should tell before continuing on. I'm thirty-one years old. I'm a white male, six-foot-two inches tall, about one-hundred and seventy-five pounds. I'm a professor at a university in a major metropolitan area. I am also a grad student at this same university. It can be confusing, sometimes, which ethics I should persue, but I usually take the best of

frank cristnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635511.post-1089854282713741942004-07-14T18:05:00.002-07:002004-07-14T18:52:33.206-07:00

Student--my nemesis for the past week and a half. I went out of town two weekends ago and said I would call her when I got back. I haven't called her yet. Student has three big strikes with me, and I usually don't let it go past one. This isn't because I'm an uptight asshole or anything, unable to take criticism, or fleeing at the first sign of something must be worked for. It's because the

frank cristnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635511.post-1089853499592127512004-07-14T17:04:00.000-07:002004-07-14T18:19:09.436-07:00

My real problem is that I'm trying to let one of my girls go. Yeah, that's what I call them, my girls. Never call them bitches, because the last thing I want to do is hang out with a bitch. Never call them anything disrespectful because, after all, I do choose to spend my time with them, and why would anyone want to voluntarily spend time with someone that they despise? I'm sure there are

frank cristnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7635511.post-1089848828497600972004-07-14T16:46:00.000-07:002004-07-14T16:47:08.496-07:00

To pick up the story right in the middle: Got a few emails today. P Ble and Bunky both send me a little message. "Hi, how are you?" What does that mean, "Hi, how are you?" coming from women that you have (or have had) some mild amount of sexual relations with? P Ble I kind of dated for a little while about a year ago; Bunky gave me a very nice birthday present back in February. Both have some

frank cristnoreply@blogger.com2