I did have a dream like that a few days ago. I was staying at home for a little while during a family reunion. It wasn't too bad, and usually when I go back home my parents give me space appropriate for a twenty something year old son. I had a dream though where my dad was trying to be a little too controlling, and I woke up with a serious bone to pick with him. There's a Ben Fold's song about that too, where his girlfriend wakes up upset because of things he's done to her in her dreams.

I do feel that way about sharing dreams. I saw a novelty mug the other day that said "The cops never think it's as funny as you do." It's the same way with your dreams- other people will never find them as interesting as you did.

The family reunion went well. It has though totally turned me off to the idea of ever procreating. Kids... man. Who needs 'em? Not this guy.

Last night Beau and I went to go see Inception at The Palms. It was awesome. We got out of the movie at like 3am, and having a little extra cash left over from buying the tickets we decided to see what all the fuss was about with Las Vegas and the ubiquitous gambling theme that all the hotels here have in common. It was late, but here's what I remember happened:

Tyson: Alright, Mr. Slot machine. Let's see what you got.
Mr. Slot Machine: Step right up, suckeroo.
Tyson: Okay, now the money goes here... and press the button...
Mr. Slot: Spin, spin, you lose.
Tyson: Woah, look at all the pictures and numbers there. This is like algebra or something. Ok, I almost won... 6 credits and only lost 4. No big deal. Spin again.

Seven minutes later...

Tyson: Dude... what the heck.
Mr. Slot: heh heh heh heh.
Tyson: No seriously. Where'd all my money go?
Mr. Slot: House= 1, Tyson= you're a giant slub.
Tyson: Ok, that wasn't fun, fair, or fortuitous. At least not for me. And... I want my money back.
Mr. Slot: Go jump in a lake.
Tyson: No. Fine, can I have just some of my money back?
Mr. Slot: I can let you try and win it back...

That sounded like a good idea, but no matter how often or hard you press the spin button, unless you put money in there to begin with it doesn't work. How they expect you to win your money back after they took it all, I don't know. Sounds like a poor business strategy to me. So I've crossed "gambler" off my list of possible career choices. Next one the list: game warden. See how well I do tending giraffes.

IT'S A SHAM

I'm flying back to New York tomorrow for a family reunion. I'm pretty sure it's bad luck to draw a picture of an airplane crashing the day before you fly across the country. I guess if my plane crashes, everyone will be like "he had it coming."

For all you trivia buffs out there, this is the first nightshift steven drawn using my new Wascom pen tablet and on the Windows 7 paint program. I like the XP paint better personally- the zoom function for some retarded reason has to be tabbed to in the newer version. I thought the pen tablet would make drawing these things a lot easier, but it's just as hard, only harder in different ways.

I added the last line on this comic as an afterthought. I like how Bill Nye used to throw up both his arms and yell "SCIENCE" after he got done explaining a topic. I'm not sure if global warming is pseudoscience or just the regular kind, but I am pretty sure it won't bring down aircraft. I've got to admire the first pilot who flew his plane through a rainbow, because I bet he didn't know that. I mean, it's not like on the ground you can throw a rock at a rainbow and see if it goes through or not. I guess you could like fire a missile or something at it to test its permeability. But then you risk the rainbows launching a counter attack. Risky.

This was the case for the past while. I thought of this comic during the period when I had enough free time to think of comics, but not enough to draw any. As of yesterday, the two facts have become inversed, so hopefully there will be more frequent updates in the future.

I start a new job on Tuesday. After two and a half straight weeks of goofing off at the census for eight hours a night my conscience started to bother me, so I tendered my resignation on Friday. What's next? Summer sales with my brother-in-law Nate selling pest control up in SLC. I'm making some major moral compromises to doing so, but I could use a better paycheck. It's not a nightshift though- first time I'll be without one of those for almost a year now.

I think I'm going to stop watching The Office. Everytime I do, I just feel totally uncomfortable for half and hour, kind of like the feeling I get when I'm watching a movie with my parents and a sex scene starts.

To "Never You Mind":

I haven't listened to you since junior year of high school. I'm sorry. I still remember all your words- let's never go so long without seeing each other again.

Love-

Tyson

My apartment has two bathrooms. Recently, one toilet stopped working. Since then, five boys have been using the same one restroom. Cleaning checks are two weeks apart. There's still three days until the next cleaning check.

Our apartment has one reeeeeaaaaallllllyy gross potty.

Waiting until the day before it's due to start my conference paper.... dumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumbdumb.

I guess the rest of the class is smarter than I because every book on Scott, Austin, or the Romantic period in general is checked out from the library. Hello, creatively citing stuff I found on wikipedia in a roundabout way.

I don't like moochers. I guess that's an external way of saying "I don't like to share". But seriously, if someone else wanted pizza as badly as I did, they would have taken the time and spent the money to get one, rather than just ask "can I have a slice?"

"No."

NIGHTSHIFT STEVEN T-SHIRTS ARE HERE.

COME, PARTAKE OF THE AWESOMENESS.

CLICK HERE.

Rosie wouldn't be allowed in the bathroom while I was using it though. I get stagefright.

Also, if you check out the proportions in the second frame, I either have a huge bidet or a tiny robot.

The condition of the sock has the potential to place it on opposite ends of the comfort spectrum. If it's new, there's little to compare to how good they feel. If they've already been used once (or more) the stiffness and crusty insides makes me want to cut my feet off rather than feel that all day.

Maybe I daydream about what my life will be like when I'm wealthy a little too much, especially given my present prospects of being fabulously wealthy in the future. Eh.

This is probably the worst part about my school not having a spring break- I won't be able to go home and restock on my razors. Bummer, because finding money for those things are not a favorite part of my budget. Whenever I'm forced to buy them myself, I know I should buy the package with more razors in it, even if it is way more expensive than the package with fewer. It's not like I'm going to not need to shave anymore anytime in the foreseeable future. But I always end up buying the smaller package anyway. I guess I don't have very many traditions, so I've got to stick to the ones I've got even if they're not exactly fiscally responsible.

I did learn the hard way not to but the Bic package of like 12 disposable razors for two dollars. Those things made a mess of my face- I honestly can't remember a time when I bleed as much as when I was trying to shave with those things.

I had a job interview today to be an enumerator for the 2010 Census. It would be nice to have another part time job, and this one would be in the afternoon so it wouldn't conflict with my subbing or weekend night buffering. It also pays a lot better than either job, so if I get it I'll be sitting pretty for the 5-10 weeks it should last. Anyway, it was me and 12 other people- all college age- who were there. We filled out a few forms and then took a 28 question test which was supposed to measure our skills in organization, reading, math, clerical, and reasoning. We had thirty minutes to finish.

I didn't find the test particularly taxing.

I was making copies of announcements for my ward the other week in this supply closet the stake has in one of the buildings on campus. In there they've got this large open mailbox cubby where every bishop has a box. In every box there was a small envelope and, curious, I looked at what it was. Each bishop had been given four tickets and a parking pass for conference. I'm looking at some pretty good seat tickets and I think to myself "hey, I'd like to go to conference with some friends". This thought was quickly followed by "how'd you like to go to hell with some friends? oh, and before you get there, how'd you like to feel more guilty and uncomfortable than you ever have before sitting through a general conference you stole tickets to?" So I put the tickets back and made my copies.

I think the idea that a person has an angel and a devil on either shoulder advising them what to do is bogus (which is exactly what Wormwood wants me to think, but whatever). I'm pretty sure people are naturally inclined to do less than upright things, and to spare a devil on every person would just be redundant. Rather, I think there's an angel on one shoulder telling me not to steal conference tickets, and then just another mini Tyson on the other with all sorts of bad ideas.

A week later cousin Doug called me up with two extra tickets to conference, so the whole not taking tickets that didn't belong to me worked out for the best.

I have two jobs right now. During the week, when I don't have class, I substitute teach in my area. I like that job a lot, because there's a lot of flexibility and it's fun to be doing something different every day. This last week I taught kindergarten on Monday, typing for 7th and 8th graders on Wednesday, and then at risk kids in high school on Friday. I've been doing that job for two years now.

Depending on the class, I can either have a ton of free time or none at all. Like when you're teaching younger grades, you have to be on top of the class at all times, keeping everyone busy and helping a bunch of kids simultaneous. And tying shoes. No joke, I have no idea have many shoelaces I've tied in the past two years that haven't been my own, but it's easily in the hundreds. My kids are all having velcro shoes until they're thirty and I for sure don't have to worry about them asking me to tie them for the tenth time that day. And it's always the same students who keep coming back to me with their laces undone. I'm pretty sure it's not my tying job, since my shoes stay laced the whole day. I suspect some kids unlace their shoes, just so the teacher will give them attention again when they ask for it. Whether it's on purpose or not, the second time any kid comes to me to tie their shoe I triple knot that sucker so there's no way it'll come undone while I'm still around. Let their parents try and get that thing off after they get home- I'm done dealing with it.

But like in high school I usually just watch a video or give the assignment and then make sure no one breaks anything while the teacher's away. That gives me a lot of time to read, mess with whatever's in the teacher's desk (that middle school desk last week had a huge ole bag of starburst in it. Oh baby oh baby...) or play on the computer.

This comic is referring to my other job- the weekend custodial job at the student center where I work Friday and Saturday nights from 10pm to 6am. That job I have to be holding the floor buffer for hours on end, and there's really nothing to do other than listen to my iPod and think. After a while I get bored of doing both, so I just kind of stare at the floor for several hours. Later, I felt guilty about willingly being dumb and drew this comic as kind of a compensation.

My seventh grade US History teacher, Mr. Boshko, told us all if the first thing we said at the beginning of a new month was "rabbit rabbit rabbit" we would have better than average luck during the upcoming month.

I always thought Mr. Boshko just made that up, but wikipedia says otherwise. I also typically forget to recite the charm at the beginning of the month. Occasionally I'll remember, as I did an hour ago, and so I expect March to have some big dividends. And if it doesn't, I'm going to find three rabbits and take my frustration out on them. March won't be unlucky for just me then...


I purchased an iPhone yesterday. That pretty much takes me from one end of the phone spectrum to the exact opposite. Two years ago, I lost my cell while snowboarding (stupidly, I forgot to zipper my coat after I used it on the lift. If I weren't such a crappy snowboarder, I probably wouldn't have lost it, but when you take three to four big tumbles per run, there was no way to know where it had fallen) and replaced it with the absolute cheapest model I could find. I don't really need a super fancy phone, but I wanted it because I kind of really really love playing Scramble.

Ok, I really love playing it.

I see a lot of people with the facebook status "sleeping".

I doubt that.

Although, I'd be interested to see if someone were actually asleep while simultaneously on facebook. Beyond being impressed by their ability to sleeptype, I wonder what implications you could draw from someone's subconscious being able to work with facebook's interface. I don't think they're too many people out there like that anymore- I've observed people becoming less attached/OCD about facebook and using it more for specific reasons (ie sending a message or starting a group to promote an activity or just straight up stalking. It's interesting then that Gmail seems to be moving in the opposite direction- as facebook becomes more like Gmail, Gmail becomes more like facebook with Buzz and the odd duck that is Wave) as opposed to just bouncing around from page to page.

There are exceptions of course, namely the people who play Farmville. People like Missy Smith. I swear, Miss Smith, if you send me one more invite with a free chicken coop attached or start one more pillow war or whatnot with me, I will tear everything you love in half. Love your farmville accout? Your cat? Your mom? In half, Missy. In half.

I wonder if the engineers who built "The Little Engine that Could" did so in anticipation of it having a particular rough lot in life. I also wonder if had the engine been unable to deliver the circus staff to the event on time, would it have suffered an identity crisis?

Maybe some of the other names they batted around the station were "The Little Engine that Should Work According to Expectations" or "The Little Engine that Has a Face on Its Smokestack" or "Thomas".

I have a roommate who’s into UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship). This same roommate essentially lives on the couch in our living room, so there’s a fair chance that almost every day there will be two dudes hitting each other on the TV. I can’t say I care too much for the “sport” (plus I find the sweaty spooning to hitting ratio way off) but I take issue with the name itself.

Things needed to be considered the ULTIMATE FIGHTING Championship:

- a cage
- thousands of spectators
- blood
- swords (they don’t have to be used necessarily, but they have to be accessible)
- Goro
- a dead loser
- cheerleaders

UFC’s got a few of the items, but is missing some critical ones. Until it gets with the program and lives up to its namesake, it will still be Ultimate Okay to Hug Your Opponent Boxing Championship to me.