201: Girl Teriyaki
7:19:01 8\52Nite
Sirprise!!! A new mailing list!!!! We are now on the second floor of the building, in issue 201. Make sure you save this issue because its going to take you a while to read. Ah, do I have some stories for you this week. But first, a word from our sponser....

Do you have lukemia??? If so, you could probably use a nice wig that looks and feels real and won't come off, even in heavy winds or under water. Well, then its time to stop by Antonio's Wig Wam, and pick your self out a brand new wig. We cary over 30,000,000,000,000,000 different clolors and styles. And, if we don't have the wig you want in stock, you get free pasta from my brother's italian restaraunt, Pastalicious! So its wig you want? Well, its wig we got. So stop by Antonio's Wig Wam, and wig out!!!

Here is a story I wrote since cancelling my phone:
----
Spider & Little Girl
by Lance Romañce

There wonce was a spider named Tiny. Tiny was a beutiful spider, and very friendly too. One day, Tiny was spinning a spider web across the bed posts of the bed of a little girl named Thelma. Thelma was crying.
"What's wrong?" asked Tiny.
"I'm ugly," said Thelma. "All the kids at school make fun of me because I'm so ugly." Now, granted, Thelma was not the best looking girl in the world, but she was not ugly. She was missing her two front teeth, a few other teeth, and she was a little over weight. But she was not ugly.
"You're not ugly," said Tiny. "Why, you have such pretty eyes. And your hair has such beutiful curls in it."
"Well, thank you very much." Thelma smiled, and wiped the teers from her eyes. "You know, you're the nicest spider I've ever met."
Thelma and Tiny became best friends. Thelma carried Tiny around every where she went. When ever some body teased Thelma, Tiny would tell her something nice that would cheer her up.
One day Thelma's mommy and daddy found Thelma playing with a spider, and they thought it was dirty and bad. They made Thelma go to her room and they put Tiny go down the kitchen sink. Thelma cried & cried. She refused to go to school for 3 whole days.
At the end of the third day, Tiny cralled out of the sink!!! He had been hiding in a dry spot where there was lots of grimey left over food. He went upstairs to see Thelma. Boy, she was so happy to see him. They waited for mommy and daddy to go to sleep. Then, when the house was nice and quiet, they snuck out of the house and eloped. Thelma laid some spider eggs and they had eight little children. Thelma and Tiny are very happy.
----
I'm not ashamed to admit that, despite the fact I call myself Lance ROMAÑCE, I'm not the greatest kisser in the world. In fact, I've been told I'm a goofey kisser. I've always wanted to be a knock out kisser. But the problem is i can't because I'm goofey. That is, I couldn't, until now. I figured out a way to become a knock out kisser quickly and effortlessly: Well, I get a hold of that mexican date rape drug, and insted of mixing it into a drink, I mix it into my saliva. Then when we are making it out, POW, she falls over, and shes all mine to do what I like with: rape her, kill her, spade her, or just tie her shoe laces together... what ever my heart desires. This technique is also good when shes not having anything to drink, because you can just slip her some date rape drug by spitting at her.

Speaking of date rape, your dear Lance who graduated high school in 1998, was taken to a prom by a young girl who will be graduating high school in 2002. A junier at the Moses Brown school here in Providence, this busty young high school co ed invited the Lance-miester to her junier prom. Blah blah blah, limmo, flowers, electric blanket... Before the prom, we went to fire & ice, a restaraunt down in the mall that looks like it was designed by Nickalodian. It is an "improvisation grill", where you pick out what you want, mix it toigether, then they grill it all up for you. It is all you can eat. It sucked. And for 4 people, it cost $76. Thats with half the people having water to drink, and me only having $10.
This was the 4th prom i've ever been invited too, excluding my own, which I didn't go to. As some of you may recall, I myself was never a junier, which is why I can't spell it. When, I was a senior, the school's size and population didn't excite me enough to be worth the $25 ticket price. That very same year, how ever, I went to the winter ball at Classical High School, with Lana B, and was invited by another girl, who i didn't really know too well, to her senior prom. Because we didn't know each other too well, her italian catholic parents wouldn't let her go with me. In1999 the year after I graduated, I was hevily encouraged to ask a girl from moses brown, but I declined because I wanted to do something else that night. I showed up after the prom though, hoping to go to a party of some sort. Unbfortunately, the person holding the party didn't want me to come over in fear that i would "break stuff." Can you believe that. Geez louise. I should have broken her, that whore. Just a few months ago, a senior at Bay View, the all girl catholic school invited me to her prom. Her name is katherine, she works with me at Ben & Jerries and is a good friend of mine. Unfortunately, her parents thought I was to old for her, being the 21 that I am, and the 17 she is. A boy in her 20s??? And he can by alcohol??? They wouldn't hear of it. Finely, this girl Emily G. from Moses Brown invited me, and I went with her, and i danced up a storm. By the end, I had danced so hard, I oculd barely stand up any more. I was pooped, so I told emily, who was dancing with some one else at this point, that I was gonna go home and go to sleep. The night ended with out incident.

Speaking of incedents... I went into the Brown Bookstore a few weeks ago. I saw two ladies I used to work with behind the registar, and greeted them with a friendly "Hello, Ladies." Well, remember that sexual hurassment incident I had at the Brown Bookstore last december???? The one where I told a gay boy named Art "Good Night, Ladies?" and he got all up in a tiffy??? Well, I didn't see Art standing any where when I greeted those two girls, but apperently he was behind something, i guess, and he thought I was talking to him. From what I hear, he was "fuming." He went and told Brian, one of the three big managers at the Brown Bookstore. Later that day, I am sitting out side the bookstore, having a sandwhich when Brian comes out tells me to "Quit Teasin' Art. He's sensative." Can you believe it??? This was 6 months or so after I had quit that job and I'm still getting talkings to by managers. Art now claims I'm not allowed in the bookstore anymore, but thats bull shit. I'm friends with everyone in there, including security, who would be the ones to escort me out, but they wouldn't, and don't cause they like me. And after all the work I've put into that place, I'll be damned if after I did so much hard work for a store, they aren't going to even let me in any more. Especially when its because of some looser from Orlando.

Here are some new songs. The first is called The Water Song:
-----
I like to drinks
water from sinks
bottled water stinks
its made by chinks

tap water is the water for me
any other water is blasphamy

some people will tell you that bottled waters right
those people are stupid and aren't very bright
they don't that tap water is free and grite
any other water is a lod of shite

tap water is the water for me
any other water is blasphamy
------
And here is a song I call Lance Romañce Classic:
------
Theres nothing like taking a crap
Sweet relief from right under my lap
Oh theres nothing like taking a dump
Makes me feel richer than Donald Trump

At the end of a stressful day
Theres only one thing more releiving than hitting the hay
cause theres NOTHING quite like taking a dump
shooting shits right out of my rump

Theres nothing like taking a shit
Sweet releif is pure bliss while I sit
No theres nothing like relieving my bowels
Just hope I have enough paper towels

Oh theres nothing like shooting a load
Out the window and onto the road
No theres nothing like a gigantic splurge
A feeling for which there aren't any words
-----
On Wednesday, July 11th, April V, a young miss who works at Ben & Jerries with me, was a looking through the want ads when she found one that read like the following paraphrase:

PHAT JOB!!!
Travel to all major cities, all expences paid, and get paid. NY, LA, Chicago... Must be able to start imediately. 2 weeks paid training. Call Mr Kuhn 555-5555

Well, April couldn't take this job for her self, but she thought I might like it. Not having a phone, I went to Foreign Affair, a vintage clothing store around the corner, and used their phone to call the telephone number mentioned in the ad. "Radison Hotel," the young woman answering the phone said. I imidiately put two and two together: "They" want me to travel, and "they" are a hotel. "They" want me to be a hotel spy!!!! "They" are going to send me around the country and have me stay in Radison hotels all around the country and order movies and room service and shit on the pool and just be a plum obnoxious guest, then report back to my boss hoiw the hotel staff hgandled everything, and whay could be approved. Imagine: me, a hotel spy. This would be one of my dream careers.
"Mr. Kuhn, please," I told the young lady. Blah, blah, blah... I set up an interview for the following friday at 2pm. I got all excited for the next two days. I put together a resume, printed it out, had every one i could think of look at it and proof read so it was all nice and all. Then, I got all dressed up. Nice shirt, nice pants, nice tie, nice shoes, nice hair, no underwear... Everything I thought might come in handy durring a job interview. Determined to get this job, I walked down to the Radison hotel, nervous, but determined. So I get sent to room 405, where I meet Mr. Kuhn, a young man, probably in his mid 20s or so, with a lot of crap on his desk, a lot of phone calls coming in, a Sega Dreamcast on pause. This man had set up this hotel room to be like his home office. I gave him my resume, he gave me some forms to fill out.
"Did I tell you we sell magazine subscriptions???" he said. "And there's a $1000 prize."
"Oh yeah?" I said, as I continued to fill out the forms. That sounds like a nice bonus job to do, a nice cover up to tell hotel people what I do for a living when I'm spying on them. When some young bell hop asks what I do, I say I'm a magazine salesman, and would have all the cradentials to try to sell him. He would be so cluseless as to the fact that I'm actually incognito. He would have no idea that I'm (dah, dah)... A HOTEL SPY!!! "So you want me to be a hotel spy?" I said. I proved there how smart I was because he never said i was going to be a hotel spy, I figured it out on my own. They are talking to a smart guy here, so they need to higher me.
"What are you talking about?? What we do is we sell magazines subscriptions. We go out for about 10 months, traveling from city to city. We go toa ll the cities: baltimore, detroit, lance vegas..." I was really impressed when he called it Lance Vegas. "We stay in each city for three to five weeks and live in hotels. We go around to all the houses, house boats, apartments and trailer parks selling magazine subscriptions. Average is making between between three and five hundred bucks a week. And theres a $1000 prize"
Well, I tried to seem enthusiastic the remainder of the time i was there, thinking maybe I will still do it. But on my way back to foreign affair to tell them how my interview went, I decided against it. There are too many reasons. First of all, having to spend all my time with the same 8-12 people might not be all that great. I have lived alone all my life and having to suddenly be with these people all the time might be very uncomftrable. This Mr. Kuhn guy struck me as a jock, and I don't want to have to watch foot ball all the time. Secondly, I can't deal with every one to slaming the door in my face. I would be basicly canvising. I have friends who have canvased for charitable grooups such as US Pirg and The Sierra Club, and they all say it can be very emotionally tolling, its not a fun job. I am not money motivated like the magazine people want me to be, I want everyone to like me, thats my motivation. And thats anothing thing, if I'm going to canvas, I'm going to do it for something I support. I think it goes against many of my morals to go around selling magazines with articles that are controlled by advirtisres who own swet shops and kill black people. I don't want to sell magazine subscriptions. So I decided not to do it.
Either way, they said they would give me a call on Monday or Tuesday and let me know if i got the job. I gave them Louise's number, so she will let me know.

What am I, a youth hostil??? Am I juvinal hall??? I'm starting to think so. List members Javed M. and Rosa S. have been trading off with my bunk bed. Every other night, one of them has been trading up, taking up valuable storage space. Rosa recently went crazy one morning after staying on my top bunk, and decided to clean my apartment. Boy, did she clean it. She only did the kitchen and a little bit of the living room, but boy oh boy. When she finished, i asked her "where's my kitchen?" Referring to the notioon that if its not extrordinarily messy, its not really my kitchen. EVerything is all white and shiney. Never in my dreams could I imagine some one who had been in 17 magazine, such as Rosa, would clean my kitchen. Rosa looks like Macy Gracy.
Someone I told this too reminded me of the hooker who told a guy "For $100 bucks, I'll do anything you want."
"Sure," he replied. "Paint my house."

As many of you know, I have such an intense hate for the Dave Mathews Band, that I have long declared him my sworn enemy. Well, he might not be any more. I know what your thinking: "What??? Is Lance off his rocker??????""""
No!!! I am NOT off my rocker. Its just that I think I might have found some body I hate more.
"More than Dave Mathews???"
Yes. More than Dave Mathews. Insanely high, uncalled for, unreasonable, and unexplained bills, annoying and obnoxious advertising campaign, random problems at the obvious fault their fault that they expect me to pay for, being forced to talk to computers rather than people, extordinary bad customer service, poor treatment of employees, a monoply, with other options rare and hard to find, the knowlege that it will probably only get worse, as well other things have cause me to become more than fed up with Verizon, the current local phone company in my home town, as well as most of the eastern sea bord.
The person who lived in my apartment before me left town for the summer, and asked for her phone number to suspended till she got back, at which point she would have the number moved to her knew address. The next day, i move in, and have my phone service turned on. Despite the fact I told them my name and who I was, and don't sound like I would have a name like May Yao, the phone company some how assumed I was May Yao telling the phone company to turn my phone back on. So, when May Yao, the girl who lived in my apartment before me, returned to Providence in September, and told the phone company to move her number to her new address, the shut off the phone in my apartment, which had been doing just fine for 3 months, with out telling me.
I had no idea about this whole scanerio, all i knew is that my phone had been shut with out me getting any notice. So i went to work, whicj at the time was the Brown Bookstore, and called the phone company 3 or 4 times. I would say "hi, may name is Ben Garber, my number is this, and my phone has been shut off and I don't know why," I said it all nicely and calmly, even though i was pissed as hell. They would put me on hold for a minute, and then, every single time, they would HANG UP ON ME!!!! I HATE being hung up on, I don't care who, but when a company such as this one does it, especially after putting me on hold for so damn long, Thats just super plum obnoxious, extrordinarily inapropriate, very uncalled for, , and that sent me fuming. That made my hair catch on fire I was so mad. I mean, they just kept doing it. I then called my phone number to see what would happen. A girl picked up.
"Who are you? This is my phone number!" I said in a short manor.
"No its not, this is my phone number."
"Uh, no its not," I retorted in a bad mood. Most of you have never seen me get pissed before, because I rarely get all that pissed at anyone to the point i feel like seeming real pissed. But the phone company had gotten me REALLY REALLY pissed and i was yelling at every body. Any hoo, the young woman who answered was May Yao, my apartment's preveious tennent, who explained to me what happoned. I thanked her, then called the phone company, waited on hold for a while, the yelled the shit out of them. It took more than a week for me to get a new phone line hooked up to my apartment.
At one pointthey fed me up so much over the phone, that I marched down to the phone company itself and demanded to talk to somebody. They insisted that there was nobody in that building to talk to and to call the 800 number. If thats the case, I don't even know why they have the building in the first place. I was so pissed off at this point that I imediately went to a book store and puchased the Anarchest Cookbook, the classic book filled with recapies for explosives, bombs, weapons and all sorts of illeagal things. I am not joking or exagerating when I say i really really wanted to blow up the phone company. But the problem was finely resolved and my anger boild down just low enough for me to decide against it.
Bills for Verizon were through the roof. They had offered me a plan where, for 28 bucks a month, I would get call waiting, caller ID and a whole bunch of crap, for just 28 bucks a month. This sounded like a good deal to me, so I signed up. So I start getting bills for near 40 bucks!!! Hold up, sister!!!! You people NEVER told me about all these surcharges. I called up and said "What are all these extra surcharges??? The operator went through a list of the surcharges, and one of them was a moving charge of some sort. "A moving charge? What's that?"
"You pay that so if you decide to move, you can move your phone number to your new address." That seemed like a silly thing to charge me every month, thats something I should only pay if and when I decide to move my number.
"No, I'll just get a new phone number when I move. Get rid of that."
"Sorry, sir. You can't get rid of that, its a mandatory fee." So I got rid of everything except call waiting, which should have taken my bill down to around 20 bucks, but insted made it just over 28 after all the surcharges which are the most pointless surcharges I've ever herd of in my life, which ment it was more than the other plan was supposed to be. You know, if you have a big company that is going to charge me stupid surcharges, at least tell me its for something that at least sounds good. Don't tell me something styupid like a moving charge, because thats just waving it in my face that I have to pay what ever you tell me and you can do anything you want cause your the phone company. At least make some effort to make me hate you less.
Another incident occured a few months later when out of know where, my phone number was musteriously switched with the people who live above me. The people who live above me discovered the problem and called the phone company to report it. A few hours later, the phone rings. A computer says "We have tested your line. The problem appears to be on your end." Then hangs up. Now, you know what I said before about how much I hate being hung up on, correct??? Well, i hate even more gettuing called by a computer. Thats what I am worth to them??? A fucking computer??? After all my inflated phone bills and unexplicable surcharges, they won't even pay the god damned 6 bucks an hour to have a person call me??? No, after all this, they're automated computer calling system calls me. Its one thing when telemarketers have computers call and leave 40 minute answering machine messages, but when the phone company does it, boy oh boy...
When I went away on my vacation, I had my phone bill reduced signficantly while I was a way. I had this complicated email system I wanted to main tain on my trip, so I subscribed to the suposesed 12 dollar a month metered service. I get 90 minutes a month, plus 10 cents for each additional minute. I should have known then that it would have been cheaper to just have long distance service (and I would it that were possable). This plan was theoreticly perfect because my home computer was to sign on for no more than 3 minutes a day, and just 5 days a week. I also prepaid 60 bucks to be credited to my account. Well, shortlly after returning from my 5 and a half week trip, I recieved a bill for another 60 bucks. At that point I had it.
I said to myself " You know, they think they can do anything to me just cause they're the phone company and i need a phone. They think that they can charge me anything they want and treat me like crap and do anything they want to me and I'll put up with it just because I need a phone. Well, guess what. I don't need a phone!!!!" I waited a few days because I wanted to send out my 4th anniversery/200th issue mailing list on time. To me, that was the only thing worth having a phone for any longer for, and gave me a few days to think it through and be sure about what I was doing. I was very sure, and the day after memorial day or labor day (which ever one was in may), I cancelled my phone.
I must say I am kind of enjoying not having a phone. It is a pain in the ass to make plans and to get in touch with people and all, but more people stop by, my addiction to ebay has pretty much haulted, i practice my guitar more, I've started reading books, i get out of the house more.. and the nicest tthingof all is i don't get woken up by telemarketers every morning!!! I have thought about getting a cell phone, but I really would feel like too much of a looser. I still hevily asosiate cell phones with yuppies and morons. I have thought about getting a beeper, because beepers can be asosiated with thugs, but I'm still not sure about it. For now i still don't need a phone. If I need to make a phone call, there are a million businesses in the area. One business around the corner, a vintage clothing store called Foreign Affair, employs a pretty young lass named Louise. I have been hanging out with her lots and lots lately. I give out Louise's number when I apply for jobs. In fact, I am at Louise's right now, as its from her computer that I'm getting to send out this mailing list. But with all these telephone havers in the naborhood, I cirtenly see no hurry to "tie my self down" by getting a new phone any time soon, so don't expect me too.
It still bothers me seeing verizon every where. I really HATE James Earl Jones now because he does their ads. I really hate their ads, intensly. I've hated them since before they had even started being the local phone company, I hate every oine walking around giving the poeace sign. Some one told me that they've pattented or copyrighted the peace sign, its now one of their logos. I hate their V logo. I hate that all the signs in the street that used be blue and white and say :Phone," so you could easily find a pay phone, now are black and say verizon. When ever i see one i start getting real mad. I hate the fact that i see their trucks driving around every where. The trucks aren't doing work, they are just driving around so that everyone sees the logo drive by, its advirtising. I know thos because the last three phone companies didn't have their trucks driving around all the time, and you aren't going to tell me that Verizon is out doing more work than any of those companies. Thats a bloody peace of shit if any one tells you they are, using the trucks as advirtisements is the only explanation. I was very happy to see a verizon truck in boston that had a parking ticket. "Way to go, meter maid!!" I thought to myself. Though I then felt bad because I realised the driver will probably have to pay it, not verizon, the hard working driver who doesn't get shit from his employer. I really, really hate the fact that you can drive for up to over 10 hours in any dirrection, and all the hundreds of millions of homes, apartments, trailors, businesses, orhganization, every person you pass on the high way, every one you see in the street.... Every single one is probably paying verizon more than 25 bucks a month. Its just a reminder that they don't need my money, they are making so much more than cost they could by several countries, bush presidencies and h-bombs and still be not be effected. I also hate the fact that they have a cell phone business and people actually sign up for it. Verizon is so obnoxious and horrable??? Why on earth would anybody get a cell phone from them when there are so many other options???? You know they are bad. I really can't stand that. Apart from banning verizon, I am also banning people who have cell phones hooked up through verizon. Why should I give that person money, or by them dinner, or let them feel worth while when they are needlessly giving the extra money i am allowing them to save to my sworn enemy?

And then there's more from my trip journal. Last I told you, I had just left Lance Vegas on Monday, April 9th 2001, and was sitting on a plain next to a fat couple, headed for sweet home Chicago. After 3 plain crashes, the plain finesly landed SAFEDLY, and I stepped off into the magic city: Chicago. Back in the day, Chicago was a big cultural center. Now adays, everything is done in New York or LA, but before everything was wired up, when everything had to be broadcast with out the use of a satalite, Chicago was the center of it all. And I was here. The home of Al Capone. I had only one problem: My stupid bank account still was telling me I had no money!!!!! This was a big problem because I didn't have a dollar on me. I had a calling card, which was used to call home and call my hotel, The Congress Plaza. A deal was arranged where I would take a cab to the hotel, the hotel would pay for my cab, and it would be charged to my hotel room. Unfortunately, the cabs wouldn't go for it. But a cab matra'd was kind enough to lend me 2 dollars to take the train. I had no way to thank him, so I offered him a cigar, but he turned it down, saying "I don't smoke." I found my way to the air port train station, and found a way to get to "the loop," and from the loop to my hotel. It wasn't hard at all because I found Chicago, like new york or Las Vegas, is filled with very nice people. Every other minute I had to stop and ask for more directions, and every one, even the thugs, were very nice and courtious and helpful. I got to the hotel and just chilled out. I turned on the TV and watched a TV special about Joe DiMagio, and ordered a cheeseburger from room service. I was kind of bothered by the fact that they wouldn't put cheese on my french fries, but was happy to have something to eat. As Monday came to an end, I called up list member Carl S in Ithica, NY, and told him I would be in by Wednesday afternoon. I called listmember Matt R. to get him to look on the internet for some people I knew in Chicago, but had little luck getting in touch with any one. Matt did mention to me that Tuesday's afree day at Chicago's premier art museum, which was right around the corner from me, and that I should check it out. I then, for the first time in my life went to sleep in Chicago.

I slept pretty late on Tuesday, April 10th. I promptly packed, checked out of my room, and checked my bags. Hungry again, I thought to myself, "what better to get while in chicago than real Chicago style pizza." After walking around the naborhood for a litte bit, I came a cross a some what facey place called Bacino's, who claimed to be the originator of the chicago style pizza. I don't know how true that is, or if its really the best example, but I ordered a small pizza anyways, and it was ok. I've never been a big fan of chicago style pizza anyway, but i just figured when in Rome, right???
Well, next stop was Matt Rufo's advice: The Chicago art museum. And he was right, it was free. It was smaller than I thought it would be, but there were lots of nice paintings there I liked a lot, and I also liked the nude photography exibit. That turned me on. The biggest problem I had with the museum was that it was too damn crowded. I guess thats what I should expect, though, on free day.
So I walked around the nabor hood a little bit. I went to a candy store and filled my self up a bag of candy, and then went to a travel shop and looked at some of their travel items and read some books. I also went to a record store that only sold CDs and asked them where I could find a some records. They gave me a few good places, but I couldn't make it because they were all a good subway ride away, and I had to a train to catch in a little while.
Back to the hotel, I had to pick up my bags that I had to check, where I got in a long conversation with the bell hop about New York City. He gave me dirrections to Union Station, where the train to Rochester New York would be picking me up at 7pm. I got a turkey sandwhich at some restaraunt in the train station, and then went to the news stand accross the hall to get some drinks. One drink, in a glass bottle, fell on the floor and broke, spilling strawberry milk all over the floor. Not sure what to do, I left and went to the train waiting area. Over the loud speaker, I heard a call for a clean up where I had dropped it. I ate my sandwhich, and waited just a few more minutes before my train arrived.
On my entire trip, I have taken every mode of transportation: Boat, monorail, plane, car, bus, foot and now a good old fassioned train. I would have taken a submarine too but disney had shut down the 20,000 leagus under the sea ride. The train was nice. A thug sat next to me, and most the people in my car were coming from a taping of Jenny Jones, which tapes in chicago. Several people from the audience were on the train, as well, as these two guys from Canada who had been actual guests on the show. Aperently, they both had relations with the same girl, and she had a baby, and they weren't sure which one was the father. The thing one that one of the guys had got the baby's name tattooed on him, but after a blood test, Jenny Jones proved that the baby belonged to the other guy. It was all kind of amusing. Then there was another guy who was trying to start his own clothing label, like Tommy Hilfigure or FUBU. I thought it was stupid but i still got a good kick out of it. I went to the smoking car to smoke a cigar, but the condocters got mad at me, even then no one in the smoking car minded. There was a girl sitting in front of me who was great looking, but kept complaining about how dirt she was cause she hadn't showered since yesterday. Then there was the fat ugly couple who had met over the internet, and one of them was from seattle, the other of whom was ffrom some where where this train was stopping. They had never met before, but they were ugly and they kept making out and they were getting married. They were on their way to meet one of their parents. It really was quite an interesting car to be on. After that fat couple got off, I took their seat, took some nyQuil and passed out.

While I am sleeping in my journal, I am going to pust some pizza in the oven, I will be right back.

The train from Chicago left Chicago at 7pm Tuesday night, and arrived in Rochester, NY at 7am on Wedndesday, April 11th 2001. That nyquil really took me out, and I nearly missed my stop, but the thug I sat next to at first, who was also going Rochester, woke me up. My travels weren't done yet, as Rochester was merely a transfer stop. I had to carry my bags from the train station in Rochester, to the Bus Station in Rochester, where i just sat for about 2 hours or so. Blah, blah,blah, two hour bus ride to Ithica, NY, carried bags up steepest hill ever to Cornell University, where i was to meet Carl outside his dorm. At this point, I stopped writing in my journal for the remainder of my trip, so here is a run down on my week long stint at Cornell in Ithica, NY.

The place I was waiting turned out not to be his dorm, but where he was taking a class. He took me to dinner, then I met the girl in whose room I would be staying: Gaea or something like that. Its pronounced Gia, so thats how i will spell it. Any hoo, Gia lived two doors down from the only other person i knew at Cornell besides Carl and Jessica Brown, who I never saw while I was at Cornell: My life long pal, Emmanuel.
When I wrote you al from Brooklyn, I mapped out my planned trip itinerary, I had the following to say about Ithica:

>ITHICA, NEW YORK: From what I hear,
>I have a rather large fan base at
>Cornell University. Thus, I will stop
>there on my way back and take every
>one out for drinks.

Well, I decided to make due on that promise. Though the drinks were just coke and water, that was because I decided to take every one out for pizza insted. I took12 or so people out for pizza, coke, water and chese fries. Thats another thing. Ithica, which is in upstate new york, I am asuming is surrounded by lots and lots of dairy farms. Its the only explanation, because this college town, which is so small and remote, has the cheapest and most available chese I ever seen. Mozzarella sticks, for example, which in providence cost 5 or 6 dollars for 5 or 6 sticks, cost 3 or 4 dollars in Ithica and you get 8 to 10 sticks.
One night, friday night, I suddenly got this sensation to run around naked. My room mate for my visit, Gia, was out a party. While she was gone, I wrote the dry erase bord on her door "THere's a sirprise in your bed." She came back a little later, to find the sirprise in her bed was me naked. Now, at this point my expectatios were for her to tell me to get out of her bed and move me to the other bed, where i had slept the previous nights. But she didn't. Insted, she didn't hesitate to hop into the bed with me. This cought me by sirprise but who am I to complain. Nothing really happened, we just went to sleep. But at about 5 am, I woke up and found her awake, and she asked m,e to get out of her bed. I still wanted to run around naked though, and I got this magnificent sensational Idea which I thought was so funny, i couldn't stop laughing. My old pal Emmanuel, who was just two doors down, would be cold a sleep by now. Wouldn't it be halarious if snuck into his room, and went to sleep on his floor, still completely naked???? Then, the next morning, Emmanuel would wake up to find me sleeping naked on his floor. I thought that was the funniest idea i had gotten in a long time, and went to emmanuels room, only to find the door was locked. Drat. So I decided to back into Gia's room to go back to sleep in the othert bed that was still empty, but I went in the wrong door and ended up in the room of the girl who lives between Gia and Emmanuel, who is named SIDS. SIDS was asleep and had no idea that ever happoned because, for one reason or another, i decided it best not to sleep naked on her floor, and go back into Gia's room. I had a little trouble sleeping, but i took some nyQuicl and was nocked out till about 2pm on Saturday. On Saturday, I was informed that I was kicked out of Gia's room. That really bugged me because SHES the one who cralled into the bed with me. But oh well, what can you do. I spent the remainder of the week in Emmanuel's room, while emmanuel stayed in his girl friend's rooom. Except for one night, when I slept in the TV room in the dormatory's lobby.
The whole time I was at Cornell, every one was getting real excited for the school play: The Rockey Horer Picture Show, which occured on Saturday. Between each act, they would select people from the audience come up and make them do something they thought was humiliating, such as putting a condom on a bananna only using your teeth. They never selected me, but i just went up anyways. For me, they played a game called truth. There was a line now of 5 people playing the game, and the hosts, two pretty girls in wearing wigs and black dresses, would go down the line, and ask each person a question, a simple question like "what color is your shirt?". Then you would have to tell the truth, but no matter what you said, even if it was the truth, they told you you were wrong. And, if you were wrong, you had to take of an article of clothing. Now, when they said you had take off an article of clothing, they never said your own clothing. And when it was my turn, I unzipped the dress of the host. Blah blah blah. If any of the list members who were there recall this night, please write in about it cause I just don't feel like it.
Thats all the excitement from ithica. There were some used record stores, and i got a lot of records, and I bought the book 1984 by George Orwell. There was to be a used record convention a week from Sunday. I tried to stay but, finding that every one at Cornell was in school and had work to do, I just got real bored, and left Wednesday morning. I took the bus back into New York City, which took for ever, and I never want to do again. It was 5 or 6 hours i think. Absolutely insane. I don't really remember much about that stay in New York City, except I stayed with list member Nate D, who goes to columbia. All these Ivy League schools, they make me sick.... Bleh. All I really remember is giving a cigar to Nate's friend Steve, who let me in when Nate wasn't in. I spent the night, the next day, Thurday, April 19th, me and nate went out for a sandwich, then I cought the bus back to Providence, and that was my trip. The end.

Well, thats it for now, morons!!! Suck my dick, and happy belated bastille day!!! Oriv Wah!

Love,
The Arch Bishop of Raison Bran,
Lance Romañce


Thank you for reading this issue of tha Lance Romañce Mailing List. To subscribe, send an email to tendonitus@giantrats.com with the word "Subside" in the subject. For back issues, and just more entertainment, visit www.GiantRats.com.
---------------------------------------------
comercial use or mass emails using the names and/or email addresses of subscribers to this mailing list is strictly forbidden
---------------------------------------------
©2001 Lance Romañce All Rights Reserved
this mailing is anti-dave mathews
email: tendonitus@giantrats.com
website: http://www.giantrats.com