I live in a shithole.

Alright, maybe that's an understatement. As I waste my life away the University of Florida in Gainesville, I live in an "apartment complex" (I use that term lightly) that is pretty old and beat up. Why stay here? Well, it's too much of a pain in the ass to move all of my stuff, plus the location can't be beat. I do not envy people who have to ride their car to a parking lot to get on a bus to be shuttled away to a location still 10 minutes from their classes.

Me? I roll out of bed and stumble to class. It accommodates my lifestyle.

And really, I don't expect much besides power, water and fast Internet access, so I don't mind living here. But I think maybe years of college students living within these walls, sacrificing babies or whatever typical college kids do... just maybe it got to the building. Maybe it left an impact or something, 'cuz I think my apartment may be trying to tell me something.

You see, the other day, my circuit breaker started weeping.

Really. I'm not talking about some moisture. I'm talking about a pretty decent stream of clear fluids coming out of the individual switches on the circuit breaker in my apartment for a good twelve hours or so. Leaving a giant puddle on the tile floor.

It's the leak that won't go away. Or maybe something more.

We had a problem a few weeks ago where a boil formed on the roof of our downstairs bathroom. Apparently a pipe bust or something, and every time we showered, water was dripping downstairs through the floor. Like a big, white creamy zit, there it sat, dipping from the ceiling, just begging to be popped so it could ooze out whatever disgusting surprise awaited inside.

And so, since my circuit breaker started weeping, we've had to travel elsewhere to shower for two days as we await the front office for the apartment complex to open Monday, because, conveniently, the night manager changed his number and we can't find it.

But maybe it's not a leak. Maybe its an apparition, a sign from God. Like when hundreds flock to an abandoned church in Mexico because they claim a statue of the Virgin Mary weeps every morning - usually about the same time in the morning that the grass outside is wet.

Or maybe the wires in the walls are trying to tell me something. Maybe I work them too hard with all of my unnecessary gadgets and my hours spent wasting my life away on the computer, draining every last bit of energy out of the wires in the walls.

Perhaps it doesn't weep for itself out of pain or fear, but it weeps out of sadness for me and the bleak, lonely, nerdy nature of my life.

Or perhaps they're tears of joy. Maybe it was a lonely circuit breaker that's just glad to have some attention and appreciates all I do for it and how much I love it and depend on it.

Or maybe, just maybe, the maintenance guys need to get their asses down here and fucking fix it so I can take a fucking shower in my own Godforsaken apartment without starting a fucking fire and burning the whole God damn building down, for Christ's sake.

I've known a deep dark secret for a very long time, and I think it's time I let the world know the truth... about Dave Matthews.

Now this is going to sound crazy, but believe me. No one knows the entire truth about this except for the man himself, but I can tell you what we do know:

Dave Matthews is an ageless being who has existed since the dawn of time. Legend has it that Dave became so bored with millions and millions of years of daily life that he found other ways to amuse himself.

Such as pooping on people.

But it became too much for Dave. A standard bathroom session could not settle the appetite Dave had aqcuired for spreading his fecal goodness all over his fellow man. Dave Matthews has an addiction that is millenia old, and he needs help. He needs to be stopped.

Dave realized years ago that the most efficient way to collect a large amount of waste is to become the frontman for a popular touring band. The tour bus collects the waste of all those onboard for long periods of time. Once removed from its containment, it can spray a human being chock-full of doodoo at an alarming rate, with nowhere to run or hide. Dave no longer had to restrain his victims, and could attack multiple people at will across the nation. It's just what Dave Matthews craves.

Last year, authorities caught on to Dave's ways after he dumped 800 pounds of human waste over a bridge, onto a boat of people on a day cruise. I thought that maybe the shitstorm of Dave Matthews had finally come to an end. I was wrong.

News broke today that Dave's tour bus driver has taken the blame for the incident. As frightening as this news may be, the more imminent threat is still at-large: Dave Matthews WILL strike again. Therefore, I have taken it on as my sole duty and responsibility to inform the masses of the truth about Dave and his past, in hopes that we might be able to prevent possible attack in the future.

I suggest a poop terror threat alert system be instituted. It would range from sickly (AKA I-never-know-what-makes-it-this-color) green, to diarrhea brown, to I-drank-a-six-pack-of-Guiness black, all the way to bloody-stool-colon-cancer red. This is the most efficient way to keep the people alert, prepared and, most important of all, safe.

It's time for you to be informed. Therefore, I present to you, Dave Matthews' escapades across time:













And so I ask of you, ladies and gentlemen, keep the Goldstein family and their feces-soaked clothing and belongings in your prayers, and help put a stop to Dave Matthews. Thank you.

Or so says Holzfeuer, the frontman for ArnoCorps. Awesome!

He also passes along info that the band plans to tour across the U.S. once their debut full-length album is complete, hopefully coming to a town near you. "The people
out there need to learn what is best in life," Holzfeuer said.

And a minor correction, the album officially has a name now: "The Greatest Band of All Time." I couldn't have said it better myself.

See you at the party, Richter!