blog's a-movin'!

http://garhole.typepad.com/

make sure to rearrange your lives accordingly. and also, if you've linked to any ryanholyoak.com crap, that's about to go the way of the buffalo (but you can link from my new site now).

-gar

p.s. the above link actually works now.

p.p.s. this blog will remain up, so that i don't lose all the comments. but all the pics will be broken. the pics will work on the new blog however.

p.p.p.s. peace out.

whyagra?!

sushi, the most expensive way to walk away hungry and drunk.



preparing my wasabi.


the final product.


the nasal blast!

***

to keep the theme of awkward sexual revelations going:

i took the better part of a little blue pill last night to keep a steady amount of blood flowing to a certain part of my body. the blood never came. instead, i simply lost my mind. the only time i had felt like this before was when i had taken paxil recreationally (try it, it makes you feel so weird for three days straight; incessant yawning, difficulty discerning right from left and a severe moral dearth. we called it craxil). so anyways, i sat there feeling kind of warm and very afraid for several hours. i also laughed a lot, uncontrollably actually. needless to say, the reckless sex romp that one typically would expect from such an endeavour never came to pass.

-gar

p.s. play this informative game.

p.p.s. i need to shave sooo bad. when god, when will i be able to grow a moustache of noble virtue?!

funday night crapball!

ever since i moved in to my new place, scotch has been replaced with pabst. basically, micah was replaced with a maverick. micah smelled a lot better and looked a lot cooler with his shirt off.

mountain dew and starbursts for breakfast... mmm...

editing movies is fun. especially when the product of hours and hours of your time is a shitty piece of crap that no one (including yourself) likes.

i was looking at a website this morning, where young ladies send in naked pictures of themselves and in exchange are paid a nominal fee but also achieve the status of being known as something as illustrious as a suicidegirl. the young maiden off to whom i jerked had tattooed little hearts over her nips. and i asked myself, why must we gild a lily here, folks? and thusly, by referring to myself as "folks" i had diagnosed myself as a schizophrenic and after every one of the people in my head achieved a climax, we went to work.

last night i went to bed before midnight and subsequently dreamt up a social life. when i awoke i felt the same embarassment i typically feel when awaking after a real party. isn't that funny? i'm truly a madperson.

-gar

p.s. two months of solid hanging out. 'tis been a wonderful time m'lady. let's go have a nice dinner, eh? and then maybe we can pet one another heavily.

yeah, well, sometimes nothin' can be a real cool hand...

me waking up (looking good).


later that day, after watching cool hand luke (the best movie ever made, go watch it right now), i was enlisted to be a back-up camera person for jaytes, jak & teef's movie.


it's a skate movie that takes place in a forest. "look dude! he's totally grinding that tree! SICK!!!"


joe.

-gar

p.s. seriously, the worst fucking song ever:

What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside your trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely little lumps.

p.p.s. if only it were about her labia majora (then i would like it).

p.p.p.s. filming movies is so sweet. long story short, my nasal passages are inundated with 5 week old cake.

best break ever...

buildings/clouds.


brook.

-gar

p.s. it's always good to get away from camp, even for an hour.

p.p.s. let them eat cake...

garswell, new garxico

once upon a time, nar and i were obsessed with a little show called roswell. we rented the first two seasons. then, in order to watch the last half of the third season (a scifi channel marathon), i took the day off of work, woke up at 6:00 in the morning and watched eight to ten hours of the show. then scifi stopped playing roswell. well fortunately for me, the third season has been released and i can finish the show.

it's truly embarassing to like a show like roswell. i mean it was on the wb, and then downgraded to upn for god's sake. there's no indie cred/cult status, like with twin peaks.

brook asked me what the show was about yesterday, and i realized there was no getting around it. "well... it's about three space aliens living secretly among humans and going to high school, and they have like... you know... special powers and stuff."

they should make a show about me, a giddy 14 year old girl living among adults as a 24 year old man-child.

-gar

p.s. do you guys still think i'm cool?

"pretty day from a bike"

-gar

p.s. the bike has lain dormant since it got so cold my genitals sought refuge in my abdomen. but today, 'twas a beautiful day and i rode the shit out of my bike. now i am inside abravanel hall for the next 9-10 hours.

p.p.s. maybe a party tonight?

p.p.p.s. to my fellow bloggers (well not all of them, just the one's i know, and excluding the one's that suck), you guys make my life. i check my kinja digest with a compulsion that rivals any junkie's habit (and i should know*). keep on keepin' on.

p.p.p.p.s. interesting utah crap.

*you know, because i've seen trainspotting so many times.

DieSpace! or A Dearth of Worth!

so, some people have actually deleted me as their friend from myspace*. and some people denied my request for friendship. this makes me so pleased. it is so easy to say ok, but to make the bold decision to remove me from or deny me entrance to your myspace is awesome. thank you. in this squalid sea of of self-pity and masturbation, you held aloft your righteous and mighty strainer and dipped it deep within the acrid waters and removed the most sizeable and ugly chunk of life's cruel indecencies (me). god bless you.

-gar

p.s. day off mo fos! on the schedule today is a strict regimen of self-abuse, ingestion of junk food, the watching of dvd's and the listening to of music. peace be unto thee!

p.p.s. i was talking to some of my girlfriends the other day and we came up with what we believed to be a fairly accurate and objective take on men in these modern times: they are pigs!

p.p.p.s. new cat power! download the shit out of it!

p.p.p.p.s. why must steve jobs unleash such a steady stream of consumer products without which i feel e'er more uncool!

*not true

the dubs and repubs

someone left a perfectly good pair of sunglasses just lying in the street!


see, perfect! (i really look like that drawing of me in this picture)

-gar

p.s. the title of this post sounds like a rap song about our president and his croneys, but actually it's a reference to the w lounge and the republican (the two ale houses at which i drank last night).

p.p.s. my tolerance for alcohol is just getting lower and lower. i had a tall boy and two tetleys's last night and i was mangled!

p.p.p.s. my lady lumps!

p.p.p.p.s. i wasn't so bad at the shoof-lay-bow-arrrds last night, so i gave up early (a little trick i picked up in wendover (quit while you're ahead)).

p.p.p.p.p.s. my house is really coming together. my room looks all perty. we rearranged some shit in the front room, making it look awesome. after we get the band room all set up we can rock hard and long all of the time.

p.p.p.p.p.p.s. so i didn't post yesterday, and let's face it, this post sucks a fundament. sorry, world.

in dreams

jesus. i don't know what's worse: not getting enough sleep, or getting a nice amount but having stressful dreams throughout.

i dreamt i went to a strip club where our stripper was morbidly obese and her breast resembled an orc's tail. i passed out in the dream and when i awoke it cost $300 for the gross stripper whom i hadn't even watched. then as we drove away this car almost crashed into us and we had to pull over. the other driver did a crazy u-turn just so that she could stare at us and freak me out.

then i dreamt i was trying to go home after a vacation but the tire was flat. as i was getting the flat fixed the car rolled away from me into heavy traffic, narrowly avoiding a speeding car. then i got the car back to the hotel, but i had lost the tire during the car rolling away part. it doesn't make a whole lot of sense now, but all it meant for me as i slept was S-T-R-E-S-S! perhaps i should consider some medication.

-gar

p.s. sometimes i allow myself to get so hungry i go insane. anger, irrational behaviour & paranoia are all symptoms i get.

p.p.s. i am so full of curry i am going to explode.

p.p.p.s. (while looking into mirror) "You did good, God." -Ron Burgundy from Wake Up, Ron Burgundy

weakened weekend

guitorchestra (sweet). curtis (awesome).


siblings duking it out.


wendover, after i had lost the $40 i had brought.


getting second wind (aka drunk).


after a small loan from nar i was back in business. i ended up with an extra $20 in my pocket. that is so sweet. craps is the funnest game on the planet.

-gar

p.s. i was going to rant and rave about an indecent and uncalled for act that was committed on my house this weekend (long story short, there is human waste on my screen door). but the fatuous perpetrators learned a little thing or two (2) about Lex Talionis from a now nearer and dearer friend. the satanic curse i was going to perform to destroy them would now be superfluous.

p.p.s.

Your IQ Is 120

Your Logical Intelligence is Below Average Your Verbal Intelligence is Exceptional Your Mathematical Intelligence is Genius Your General Knowledge is Exceptional

A Quick and Dirty IQ Test

this can't be accurate. i'm no good at math.

p.p.p.s.

this message was brought to you by the church of jesus christ of latter day saints.

p.p.p.p.s. columbus day, shmolumbus day

coolest jedi(s) ever!

click for larger image


click for larger image


click for larger image


click for larger image


click for larger image


click for larger image


click for larger image


click for larger image

-gar

p.s. that's my little brother carter.

p.p.s. there is another...


(my sister caroline)

p.p.p.s. special thanks to this website.

two day weekend

i can't wait.

i finally got anchorman in the mail yesterday. next step? the big lebowski (i just ordered it).

i am so fucking agitated. i want to sleep without having to wake up. i want to drink a million beers. i want to launch megajokes.

-gar

p.s. sorry louis and joe. i think it's sethgar night tonight, so you might not have a house to come home to in a little while. at least, not a house that isn't laden with bodily excretions.

p.p.s. i hate showers. i hate going to the bathroom (#2). i hate brushing my teeth. i hate putting my contacts in. i hate wearing my glasses. i hate eating anything that isn't fast food. i hate when fun isn't priority numero uno.

p.p.p.s. in seven hours i will feel so much better.

p.p.p.p.s. if you believe in a literal translation of the old testament... you might be a redneck.

p.p.p.p.p.s. awesome shit alert:

Natural nuclear reactors
"A natural nuclear fission reactor can occur under certain circumstances that mimic the conditions in a constructed reactor. The only known natural nuclear reactor formed 2 billion years ago in Oklo, Gabon, Africa...

The natural nuclear reactors formed when a uranium-rich mineral deposit became inundated with groundwater that acted as a neutron moderator, and a strong chain reaction took place. The water moderator would boil away as the reaction increased, slowing it back down again and preventing a meltdown. The fission reaction was sustained for hundreds of thousands of years."
from Wiki (of course).

and

The radioactive Boy Scout
"In 1995, a 17-year-old Boy Scout named David Hahn attempted to build a small nuclear reactor in a potting shed in his back yard. This reactor was far too small to be critical, but it included a neutron source and moderator. He collected sufficient quantities of radioactive materials that the US EPA had to be called in to saw up and dispose of the entire potting shed in a radioactive waste dump. David's parents had already secretly disposed of some of the most dangerous material by throwing it in the garbage. The reactor was built with radium (from old paint) and americium (from smoke detectors) as sources of alpha particles, which struck aluminum and beryllium to produce fast neutrons. The resulting neutrons were used to irradiate thorium (from gas mantles) and uranium (obtained as samples from a Czech company). The required information to obtain the elements and design the reactor were obtained by the simple expedient of writing letters to various organizations, claiming to be working on a merit badge or as "Professor Hahn" teaching a high-school physics class."
also from Wiki

i ({i}) you

i want to be at home, drinking a pabst and kicking people off our new wireless network. i like the internet. did you know that you can learn things on it? my resume will one day say:

extensive private research conducted via the world wide web in lieu of university "education"

sometimes i get so bored that i become partially retarded. and i mean that in the most politically responsible way.

hey, but let's face it, not a whole lot of them (retards) are reading gar's shit hole. the whole irony thing tends to elude them.

-gar

p.s. sometimes i don't regret my ween tattoo (yes i have a ween tattoo). days on which i listen to shinola vol 1 constitute those types of days.

p.p.s. the sunglasses pictured above feature such dark lenses one cannot see through them unless one is staring directly into an active supernova. they are perfect for recreating the underwear scene in risky business whilst viewing celestial phenomena. bob seger gives me orgasms in my penis and butthole.

p.p.p.s. do you guys still think i'm cool?

machismo... stupid?

the view of our fair city as seen from the middle of three hundred south (i risked my life to take this photo).


team shuffleboard. they are much better than me.


fig 1.1

there are two kinds of idiots. the first, those who start fights unnecessarily. the second, those who are drunk assholes to the first type. both types were present at the republican last night. a fight ensued. it made me so uncomfortable (see fig 1.1). and the best part? they both had moustaches!


as a c student for the better part of my high school/college career, i am used to being mediocre. but i fucking suck at shuffleboard.


this looked really pretty last night. but now it just looks like a lite brite.

-gar

p.s. i finally saw the baxter. i liked it. but the editing seemed very awkward. and i couldn't stop thinking about stella (the show, not m.i.b.'s character's wife). justin theroux is an amazing actor. and i think that michael ian black really likes to be eating when making the jokes. i'm glad i don't have to write movie reviews for a living because it's hard and stupid and subjective and half of a movie experience is the mood in which one finds oneself whilst taking in (visually) a cinematic experience (a movie).

p.p.s. so nariman tells me he got a weird phone call from a blocked i.d. the other night too. isn't that fucking weird? it was like a weird robot voice that was talking as if it was in a lover's tiff or something. i barely remember it but nar does. did this happen to anyone else? does anyone have any ideas as to why this happened? creepy.

fuck is the new shit

fucking patriot act!!! seth owes me money for that keyboard, so he signed his paycheck over to me. i was going to deposit 60 of it and give the rest to him, but when i handed it to the teller he told me no dice! the fucking patriot act says no dice to third party checks!!!

then seth, as a joke, screamed "terrorist" at me outside, but i couldn't help but worry that the lovely hot-dog vendor guy (who is of middle eastern origin and was within earshot) might have thought it was directed at him. if seth had just followed my "Paranoid Code of Conduct for the Speaking Out of Doors:

1) never mention anyone by name.

2) never speak loudly.

3) if you have to speak loudly, stick to words that couldn't possibly offend or involve anyone.

then he wouldn't have hurt anyone's feelings (potentially).

fuck. i am so mad. i can't fucking believe how quickly this country went down the shitter. fuck.

-gar

p.s. yes, i know that this small facet of the patriot act is probably the least of our problems as far as the loss of civil liberties goes. maybe if the terrorists didn't hate our freedoms so much, the government wouldn't have to take so many of them away from us.

j'ai l'internet!

i'm back in business!

-gar

p.s. and i got my new keyboard!

p.p.s. and i got the new ween b-sides album (it rocks)!!!

p.p.p.s. and i got some new epic (sweet canadian rap). it's awesome.

p.p.p.p.s. i like buying things!

weird

the fellow who taught me how to play area 51 as an alien*, died. we had french class together in 7th or 8th grade or maybe both. he was one of the o.g. computer nerds, you know, DOS and shit. now's he's logged in to that great b.b.s. in the sky. what... too soon?

-gar

p.s. i had the worst night of sleep ever! i had a million bad dreams.

p.p.s. should i play risk or see the double tonight. decisions, decisions.

p.p.p.s. i get a day off tomorrow! i haven't had one since september 25th, and i'm not even becoming a doctor!

p.p.p.p.s.

the face that launched a thousand laughs
(REMBER WHO YOU WORK FOR (sic) a zep caldron original).

p.p.p.p.p.s. hey everyone! i just figured something out, i think had a little divine help, if you catch my meaning. internet explorer oft-times can't figure out that a new post has been posted, and a good old-fashioned F5 refresh doesn't do the trick. try this one on for size! Ctrl-F5!!! i am the coolest (thanks, scott).

*do not shoot any of the aliens at the beginning, just shoot the good guys. you'll get shot twice, but not the game-ending thrice. after the third good guy you shoot, the game restarts and you see everything as an alien (have you ever seen the predator? it's kind of like that, but worse).

nightmaraoke! or korearaoke!

'twas the golden jew's birthday at midnight last night and we went out to celebrate. we went to a strange and curious place wherein i felt as though i was deep in slumber. we went to a karaoke establishment where one brings one's own alcohol and rents out private rooms. one can smoke inside. the walls were all wasabi green, all the signs were in what i believe was korean, and posters of cars and asian women adorned the walls. the jack-off booths, i mean the karaoke chambers were all booked so we had to chill in the ultimate hang-zone while we waited. people were playing a strange game that resembled pool, but without pockets and with much fewer balls. i kept asking those around me, "when did i fall asleep? and when will i wake up?"


we finally gained entrance to a booth, but one designed for much fewer people than the large number we had with us. the menus were all in korean.


the world's largest remote (also in korean). jim and mason try their best to learn another language as quickly as possible.


finally we figured out which symbols meant "play" and i started to sing young turks. i was intimidated because brook was in the room and she knows the song forwards and backwards. needless to say i fucked up a lot.


with three hundred people in a 6 person room, sauna-like conditions developed. i, following a lead from my good friend seth (who was there in spirit), removed my shirt.


look at all that sweat!


there is a dance club next door where the minority communities of salt lake city come to congregate. this is how i looked.


this is how they looked at me.

-gar

p.s. holy crap that was fun. except i demanded to sing every other song, so people got pretty fed up with me.

p.p.s. my insides feel gross.

MormonCon is in full effect!

the streets are littered with mormons. i'm glad i ride a bike. speaking of which, i got the wheel fixed (remember when i caught my foot in the spokes and bent them?).


my sweet new hat i inherited from the trashpit!


the sweetest team to have ever walked the earth (second to a.t.d.f.)!

-gar

p.s. everyone thought i was wearing a soviet hat so they thought it strange that i was screaming in german. then this one guy gave me the nazi salute. i screamed "EAST GERMANY!" i was embarassed for him. then i realized by emphasizing the east in east germany, he probably thought i was implying that west germany was nazi germany. poor dude must be so confused.