Oliver H. Brandise

The lonesome road is lonesome. Any one want to join me?

Turns out the guy i was dating was a girl. I guess I'm not gay after all.

I went on a date with a man. We're dating.

So I've been hit on twice, possibly three times, by gay men in the last couple weeks. Yet I was strangely flattered. Scary.

So i was walking back to my hall when i stumble into the bike i rode out of the lake in my pirate days, and i say "Hey, thats my bike." apparently some asshole removed it from the rack and let it fall on the ground near it, and i was mad, so i picked up the fallen bike and walked it back to my hall, and i set it properly on the rack. Back in my room, i feel bad for the thing, so i go out to the rack with a pump, and fill up the tires, and then i feel even worse, because no one is riding it, even though it has air in the tires, and is somewhat ridable, so i go out and put duck tape on the grips, cuz they are grose, and i take it for a spin. The only problem is that it doesnt have a chain, well it actually does have a chain, only its broken, so it drags behind it like a tail, only i'm not too bummed about that, becuase it gives it character. The only problem is that i have to ride it like Fred Flinstone drives his stoneage car, and people stare at the bike when i ride, becuase i have to ride it like Fred Flinstone, but i say they are jealous because they used to watch the Flinstones while growing up, and they only wish they had a stone age bicycle, or any bicycle for that matter, because they are walking, and they laugh, even though i still think they are jealous because i at least have a bike, and am going twice as fast as they are, because they have to walk, because they dont have Rustella, the name i picked for my bicycle which is rusted but still rolls like a dream, and its great because i can ride to class and don't have to lock it up, because nobody but me appreciates Rustella. And rustella appreciates me becuase i saved her from the abyss of Thomspon lake, where she layed in the bottom next to a shopping cart that is bored out of its mind sitting in Thomspon Lake, because it no longer has Rustella, and i feel bad for the shopping cart, but what am i gonna do with a shopping cart if i drag it out of the lake? i can't just roll it to a bike rack, because shopping carts don't belong in bike racks, and someone will just roll it back into the lake, making the shopping cart even more depressed than before, so i guess I'll leave it, but i still love Rustella, and always will.

So I've had three dates since I've been down here.

First date - Chinese Buffet. We eat. I say "Don't worry, I'll pay the bill," the waiter returns a few minutes later,my debit card was out of money, i didn't have cash, so she had to pay for me. I havn't paid her back.

Second Date - Olive Garden in the city of Marion, 20 minutes away. Before we left, i decided i would probably be able to find it. I pulled into a gas station, she asked directions, just to find out that there is no Olive Garden in Marion. We drive back to Carbondale, go to Ponderosa, i pay with a credit card, we go to the buffet line, it sucks, so i ask for my money back, and we drive five minutes away from the school to an Italian place. It took two hours before we got food from when we left the campus.

Third Date - I asked a girl if she wanted to feed ducks with me. I forgot the bread. We never fed the ducks

I quit.

Armed with marijuana, stolen firewood from a fallen tree, and Rilo Kelley, we push the station wagon down giant city road deep into the woods. A giant raccon leaps into the road and i lay off the gas to watch it pass. The road carved deep into the forest becomes increasingly windy, skinny, and hilly. Finally, a sign appears "Giant City Campground One Mile" I take a left, follow the concrete pathway, illuminated only by my brights, and roll into the campground. The firewood is wet, nothing's catching. I pull out my school notebook and begin tearing out pages, lighting them on fire, watch them burn, watch them not catch the damp sticks on fire, watch the pages turn to ash. Half an hour later, my match box is almost out. I have three papers left in the notebook. I pull out the first piece of paper and strategically locate it among a pile of sticks. I light it with a match, and watch it catch. The paper's burning when I toss a leaf on it, smothering the flame. The second piece of paper catches, then burns to ash. One piece of paper left. My heart stops beating when i light the match. The paper easily catches, and just as easily fades away to ash. Desperate, i see a flame deep under the ash, and place the cover of the notebook over the flame. It Catches, and Kyle and I survived the night.

Today i became a pirate. Reading "A Walk Across America" against a tree in the backyard of Steagall Hall, i grew restless. My adventerous spirit took over, and when i noticed a couple girls in a paddleboat near a fishing pier in the lake, i ran towards it. From the pier, I leaped onto the back of the paddleboat. Unfortunately, I'm not a very good pirate, and I lost the battle and was thrown into the water. I felt an object in the muddy depths of Thompson Lake, and diving down, i found a bicycle. I rescued the wheels from the seaweed, and began my new bicycle adventure to the shore. I managed to ride the rusty bicycle out of the water, and while still riding, i parked it in a bicycle rack, to the relief of the lonely wet bicycle who now has many friends. Satisfied with my adventure, sopping me walked back to my dorm and took a shower. Now i shall feed the ducks with my stolen bagel from the dining hall. I like ducks. Especially the white one.

I went to St. Louis last night! The City Museum's tight. Went to Giant City State park to hike today. Good times.

I got a C- on my Nutrition Exam, i suck at school.

Some bitch came in my room last night at 3:30 AM demanding an apology for "ignoring" her. She threw papers around and started screaming. She didn't leave till 4. My floor is wierd as hell.

Two minutes is the about the total amount of time I've spent talking to my roomate. But its okay, because i made a fortress. SIU is big. I've got a nice Hall by the lake, its pretty. Kyle's got a big ghetto guy as a roomate.

Too cold for the 2005 slip n slide festival.

Monday, August 15. MIDNIGHT SLIP N SLIDE BIRTHDAY BASH. Christopher James Padesky (me) is turning 18 on the 16th of August. Everyone is invited as long as you bring a container of water, for the water bill will exceed my family's budget. There will be rocking music with caffeinated soda pop, not to mention amazing water park stuff.

The Staten Island Ferry is free. Won't you join me? The black people stereotype is ridiculously true. Going down 125th street 2 blocks there are 4 fried chicken places, and a couple watermelon stands. Not that there's anything wrong with chicken, or watermelon. I got ditched, so now I have to walk home from Chicago. Punk.

Hey Kate, will you go out with me?

I rode my bicycle from Portland to Peoria with plenty of time for my brother's wedding. I was home for a little more than a week and was planning on riding East. My neighbor's son lives in New York, and he and his 94 Land Rover were headed back there, so i joined them. His apartment is huge and has no furniture because he doesnt like the concept. I'm in Harlem.

Today.

15 miles down the road (and having fixed 3 flat tires throughout the short ride) I hear a loud pop as the front tube releases all its air. Instead of fixing it, i flip my bicycle upside down on the side of the road, take out a notebook and write "NORFOLK" on a page and sit on my tarp with my right thumb out. Not more than a minute later i got a ride. My bicycle is in the shop, I'm excited. I've been riding on a broken spoke for around 300 miles.

On Saturday night i hung out with some Sioux Indians and drank and shot off fireworks while watching the kids running around the field howling at the moon. Last night i climbed in the window of an abondoned trailer home city, but i couldn't sleep because rats or mice were too loud, so i went to the park. I rode 2000 miles. The past 90 are on a broken year spoke, and i have no idea what I'm going to do, I'm a ways away from a bicycle shop. I missed Haley by a week.

Nebraska is like the girl next door. Beautiful in a humble, non exotic way.