Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Behind Blue Eyes

I started reading Huck Finn for English class this week, talk about a gas and a hoot and a holler. I've been looking at making apple cider donuts, I got the idea from a friend. They sound delicious, however they take the dedication of Confucius to make. Seriously, why take 3 hours or so to make a Donut when Kwik-E-Mart is right down the street? Oh wait, that takes a car drive to get there, I guess obesity will just have to wait and I'll just settle for an apple itself. Drat.
I wonder when recipes were created. Did people all of the sudden decide, with the apple for instance, "You know, this is good and all, but I'd rather put a bajillion hours of time into making it something else, which may or may not taste better, while at the same time fighting off the Sabre-tooth tigers that look longingly into my decrepit cave." I have this thought almost every time I open my AppleMac.
I spent an exhausting amount of time in the study room over the course of the past week learning about Genetics. It paid off with a 90% on the test! Talk about a miracle (a.k.a. talk about corn nuggets!). What has everyone been up to? Have you noticed "Fall" outside? I wonder when it's actually determined. I think it goes something like this: Officials around this part of the world are on adrenaline-filled 24 hour watch, scrambling to catch a sighting of the first actual leaf that "falls" to the ground. This job, along with other prestigious ones of this sort of ridiculousness, is commonly disparaged as useless. That is why I like to raise awareness on these methods of employment. Crucial stuff here, crucial.
Kirk, the Chinese Exchange Student on my floor, has been dazzling me with his use of the English language recently. He's finally got a full grasp I would say, I think it took about 6 years or so. Gosh that's an awful long time. Last night at dinner, one of the residents was asking around to see if anyone was allergic to dogs. He asked Kirk, and Kirk replied with, "Dogs? Delicious!" and a grin to match that of the Joker's. Talk about a funny guy! This kid has been running on about 2 hours of sleep tops over the past 3 days, and he's still got the audacity to whip out that sort of hilariousness that you just can't make up. I love Kirk. He went to Yellowstone over fall break to see nature, and stole a rock. He got a speeding ticket coming out of Yellowstone, and was informed (as was I) that it is illegal to take rocks out of Yellowstone. You can't take anything out of there. Ridiculous, right?! This prompted my subsequent question, "Well can you take your trash out of there, or should you just leave it too?" Ridiculous, I know, but necessary nonetheless. Take care!

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Explain This

So I'd say I'm sorry for not updating all of the time, but I know you don't care. Who are you anyway? This is a little scary if you ask me, it's like a one way street here. You'd think the cyberhighway would at least have a few safety checkpoints or something. Guess not.
Today I cooked lunch. I not only single-handedly cooked lunch, but I made a MEAL. There's a difference  between lunch and a meal. A lunch consists of Ramen. A MEAL consists of bbq pulled pork and chicken, baked beans, lunch (a.k.a. dinner) rolls, fruit cocktail, tater wedges, iced tea, and Corn Nuggets! Corn nuggets, you might ask? To quote myself:
     ["What," you might be asking, "on God's green earth is a corn nugget?" Well, funny you'd ask, because believers and non-believers alike have agreed that upon the 8th day of Earth (4000 b.c.), God gave his only food, corn, and deemed that it be fried in the holiest of manners. This, my friends, resulted in a long and rich history of the Corn Nugget! A creamy, corny (no pun intended), center, wrapped with breaded golden love, and fried with so much love that it solved the Cold War crisis.]
This is all undisputed fact. This information has also not been up for more than 24 hours. That's something to consider in today's fast-paced world.
Today we had our Genetics test. If there has been one class this semester that has sucked away my soul, it has been Genetics. I love it once I understand it, however the process of understanding is quite lengthy. It's as if trying to cram a 4-course meal preparation into an hour. I mean come on, that's culinary suicide.
Speaking of ducks, several people have encouraged me to just become a chef. This sounds like a great idea, but I'm afraid I'd get too fat from all of the great stuff I'd eat. Not to be cocky or anything... But seriously...I'm off to bed for now, I'll try and make a better post later this week. Does anyone have an interesting topic?

Thursday, September 23, 2010

That circle is a square.

First thing's first:
Good!  Now that that's out of the way, we can begin.  Begin what, you might ask?  Begin to be, of course.
I attended the Autumnal Equinox Starlight Walking Tour of Mount Oread at a pesky hour of 5 a.m. on Wednesday morn.  Quite intriguing I must say.  Every building has a purpose for the way it is built, surprisingly.  Also, some of the buildings line up to point to the north star.  Cool stuff!  Unfortunately, I only made it till 6:30 before my body realized that 3 hours of sleep was most definitely not enough to suffice.  The struggle lasted another few minutes, but in the end, sleep won.  Darn the eternal Z's of slumber.  One extremely interesting quote that the Professor Emeritus Ted Johnson had, however, was this: "If we are busy, we cannot learn. We come to the University to learn, and this cannot be done if we are busy."  That was most likely the sole reason I stuck around for as long as I did, waging apocalypses against the steady onslaught of sleep-deprived symptoms.
Sophomore year has been extremely busy. That's why I believe I haven't learned much, except how to attempt to combat business. It's a difficult task, for sure, but no more difficult than wrestling that psycho-chick girlfriend away from your best female friend of 11 years (not a personal example, just sayin').
Another good question for y'all: What gets done between the hours of 6 and 9?  Absolutely nothing.  That's what, and I can never seem to figure out why. Time in the Collegiate world hath designated that these hours be used for nothing more than non-productive tasks, such as buying starch in fruitless hopes that I will one day learn how to iron a shirt. Probably not happening, but at least I have starch.
I hope everyone has been tending to their personal matters well, for if not, I fear the worst is yet to come.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

what is the geometry of NO3-

Apologies, all, for not doing my civil duty and updating y'all on the frivolousness of my life. First thing's first. School. It started! About a month ago, actually. I know, I know, I should've been updating quite a bit since then, SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED! Not really. My knee hurts when I run, so I don't run. Food keeps getting more and more succulent, so I keep eating more and more of it. School involves so much reading I almost can't ingest enough coffee to keep up with it.
Speaking of coffee, I brought some back with me after going home for Labor Day! It's Hawaiian, for those of you anxious to know, vanilla macadamia nut, for those of you bursting at the seams to get even an inkling of detail of my life. I wasn't that interested, but the coffee on the other hand...I've finally accepted drinking it plain and black. I don't know if this is a good or a bad thing, but I'm pretty sure this is headed in a southern direction.
I also brought back two additional aprons to spice up the domain I call the Kitchen. One of them has a typical 50's family and denotes "Let's have a Barbeque!" Because you know that you're just bursting to have a barbeque with only one other couple where the women gossip and you slave under the fire and flames of a brick grill to perfect that perfect piece of meat that nobody will appreciate. Why on earth aren't your talents APPRECIATED?! I couldn't tell you, maybe you should see a psychiatrist. The other apron was my father's, and it is a McDonald's apron from when he worked there. Hopefully my strategic placement will encourage all who glimpse upon its harrowing crimson color can appreciate the fact that they are in college for a reason besides downing as much suds as a dishwasher while simultaneously concocting street pizza every step of the way. If that didn't make sense to you, don't worry. It made even less sense to me.
The ladies at our sister hall are extremely beautiful. There, I said it. They brought in approximately 25 new recruits this year and it did nothing but embellish the bouquet of beauty that was bursting forth from that direction. Overzealous? Ask General Patton. I don't think he'd say it is, he won a war for crying out loud.
I got a whole bunch of music the other day, it's pretty good stuff. Amazon has a lot of great free music for all of you "hipsters" who think paying for music isn't "cool". I also participated in a dance party the other day. Let's just say that my Gingerfriend can dance.
I've also enjoyed cooking with some of the lovely ladies of Sellards of late. Never a dull moment over there, that's for sure. I made some peanut butter and jelly mini-pies today, they turned out heavenly. You'll have to try one! What is your favorite dessert? Tell me! I hope everything is going well in all of your lives, and I'll promise to post more often now that I'm finally settled in!
I leave you all with this picture of bliss.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Dog Days of Summer

We put the dog down today. It's amazing that someone could miss something that so frequently and delicately placed butt nuggets so tenderly around the house almost daily could be missed, but the joy he brought everyone in the family far outweighed those small trifles of trouble.
     The shadowing has been going well. There was a casting session this week where we learned how to put on casts, and afterward it looked like the remains of a zombie movie, with blue arms and legs strewn everywhere. Quite the sight to see.
     Next week the family is traversing to Branson, MO. If there is anything exciting or worth doing there, I'd like to know, because I've been trying to hunt it out for quite some time now, and still haven't been able to locate it.

Friday, July 16, 2010

The count of the 8-ball digital egg.

     The title was an incomprehensible jumble of thoughts that have been rambling around in my brain for the past several seconds. Quite a lengthy amount of time if you ask me. Do you ever get those grand feelings of becoming a great and learned scholar, whose book repertoire extends farther than one can throw a frisbee? Me too, so that's why I decided to start off this grand collection of knowledge with a book called The Count of Monte Cristo (Penguin Classics). Let me tell you, I almost didn't make it through the introduction, which was at least 15 pages. Kind of off-putting if you ask me, but I guess they figure they can do that if they've got you locked into a 1200 page book. They're just sitting around the table saying, "What the heck, why don't we go for the Pulitzer in writing introductions? I'm sure if it isn't a category, it will be after this intro!" Those meddling kids.
     I'm going to attempt a grand facelift of sorts today, I'm going to restore the patchwork that is our yard to its former glory. Well, it didn't really have a former glory of sorts, it was always in quite a shoddy condition. I guess hitting golf balls everyday for some 5 solid years does indeed have detrimental effects, and not the contrary, which is what I presumed, because every time I traversed to the golf course and hit several divots, the grass seemed to magically get better! Or could that have just been some actual funding taking place? Who knows, I digress.
     My shadowing has been going quite splendid in the realm of doctor-hood. I've seen some interesting cases and had the pleasure of seeing how this great process of healthcare unfolds. One thing I must say however, is that it seems like every person and their second cousin believes that everything can magically be solved by some sort of pain pill. This is indeed, not the case! Maybe, just maybe, if one were to remove one's self from a strategic position in front of the television and engage in such activities outside that one so passionately devotes time to watching inside, something could come of it! Preposterous to think, I know, but it just might WORK! Get out there people, and save yourself... FROM YOURSELF!!! (Insert dark and ominous music here).
     Another thing. Why must people find it necessary to procure such hideous grammar in the realm of the Internets, and more importantly, Facebook? It seems like a rampant brothel of bad sentences, where possessives and punctuation went on strike, and correct usage and spelling both committed suicide, but not before flipping the bird to The Penguin Handbook (MLA Update) (Paperbound)! It's an art, I'd say, to be that stupid when posting things that all the world can see. I've posted some examples on my status in recent times, and look for more examples as I uncover them. Well, there's not much to uncover, they are pretty blatantly revolting. I hope all is well in your life, for to wish harm upon you would obviously mean a riot with upwards of 10 people!
Picture Above: The normal flow of grammar on top,
Facebook's usual grammar flow on bottom. 
Note: Sad Face at end of Facebook flow.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

I don't even know what to think anymore.

I work for a week and a half staining a deck, suffering multiple injuries to my ego, coming out just shy of a quarter g, and a friend tells me he's made 300 skinny jeans laying carpet in one day. What kind of society is this?! I certainly don't know.
     I still want to hear feedback on my seemingly philosophical question: What if parents/society put as much emphasis on learning as they did on sports? Hit me up in the comments to get your insight.
     So for the past month or so I've been wielding the HTC Evo 4G. For those of you not in the know, it's pretty much the biggest geek porn known to mankind. It's the iPhone for cool people, those who aren't hipsters. This bad boy is awesome, but it has yet to accomplish the one thing I unleashed it to do: pick up chicks. Just goes to show you that women won't rush to devoid their bodies of clothing at the sight of German Engineering, or will they? Makes me rather just avoid the whole thing and win them over with my amazingly good looks. Oh, wait, the 50 pounds of pasta I had for dinner have something to say about that.
     What are all of my awesome readers up to? Let me know, give me a sign that my life isn't completely worthless, or is it?

You have her snout.

So for the past week and a half, my next handyman job has ensconced the throes of everyday life for me. I have absolutely no idea whether that actually made any sense, I've been staining a wraparound deck for the past fortnight. It has been sucking the life-force  out of my labor-driven soul, and leaving me as nothing more than an obese-wielding soul.
     Speaking of China, I biked out to Kanopolis the other day, which is about 20 excruciating miles out of the way of my home, which is where I was trying to get to after visiting the local Doll-collectors anonymous meeting. Needless to say, when I stopped in at the local "Trading Post" to refill on some old-fashioned Gatorade, the cashier's mouth dropped to oblivion. I guess it's quite a sight to see a fat man make it somewhere over 10 miles by not using some form of motorized transportation! What a revelation! Needless to say, I'm not too sure how much "trading" went on at that place. It seems to me that the only thing the cashiers wanted was cold hard cash, which doesn't give you much wiggle room for bartering. At least in Mexico they'll take a lock of my hair as legal tender. All discourse aside, I submitted the "Trading Post" to the Better Business Bureau for false advertising, as well as shattered dreams.
     Recently I've been shadowing doctors to learn why and how our healthcare, which is indeed the greatest in America, is so awesome. It's been quite an experience. I would divulge, but under the Hippo Act, I'm not allowed to tell you that one child had quite an abnormal growth sticking up from its shoulders. My doc told me it was some sort of "head", whatever that is, but I'm not convinced.
     That's all for now, I'll keep you all in the know more and more, because you guys are my life! Duh!

Saturday, June 26, 2010

I've told you once

So much going on, so little I have wrote.

Of late, I have been working away in the fields filled with the tender and loving thistle plant, who by now I am completely sure will be my soulmate. Alas, all good things must come to an end, and ended indeed was the life of the thistle plant on all of the pasture land that we roamed. I might even go as far to say that I'll miss it. Ok, I won't go that far, that'd be quite a venture. No, it was the great company for this past week and a half that has made it such a pleasure, and a delight of course. It taught me hard work, sweat, blood in some cases (it's not like your everyday pasture doesn't come with jungle cats y'all!), and tears (of joy, at seeing more thistle in the distance). I noticed an ad on craigslist for help with thistle nearby, and I most certainly picked that up, for I must continue my thistle streak.
On another note, cleaning has engulfed my life. Is it sad that I completely washed and waxed my dad's car merely because I was annoyed at all of the bugs on the front bumper? Yeah, a great 3-hour time waster. But in the process, I talked to my neighbor who just so happens to be somewhat famous and I was led on another adventure in history to Gordon Parks, who if you don't know, directed Shaft among many other things. It's amazing what one event will lead to. I know this doesn't make much sense at all, but it's quite a hoot in my mind! I'll quit bothering you for now, I'm going to go wash my car, because that seems to be the most interesting thing I could possibly do on a Saturday! Stay warm!

Thursday, June 17, 2010


Ain't this weather somethin' fierce. One day it was plum rainin' sideways, tearin' trees down to their roots, and the next it's hotter than a Texas summer out on the cattle ranch. I say! Some time it sho' is.
My apologies for the absence in literature. I have been taking to the hills of late, literally. I've put my skills and convictions to work in the form of cutting musk thistle, is what I do believe it is called:
"Oh hi Mr. Hand, would you kindly screw off?"

That is what the devil's work looks like, it's name is musk thistle. Gloves are a must, but even then, this thistle presents quite a "prickly" situation, if you know what I mean. It's quite a joy on the hands. 
In other news, Little Sweden is still boring! For all of you not familiar with my town, that is in no way breaking news, it's old hat in fact. However, in one foul swoop of an attempt to garner attention and attraction for the town, Midsummer's Festival is this weekend! You all should come, it'll be a gas! There's so much to do, I can't even describe it all on here. Basically, you walk around looking at all of the Swedish crap at the booths, whilst the people at the booths are hoping to the almighty that you buy something because it's the only time other than the Apocalypse that somebody would come to this town. I digress, it's quite a lovely place. The wind is nice. And prevalent. 
So on that note, it'll be a weekend filled with fun and jubilation, not unlike my night last night! Have you ever been to an authentic German dinner, hosted by an authentic German war bride (from WWII might I add) who came over to the great place known as America at the age of 22, knowing little to no English, and giving it all up in her homeland to stick it out in Kansas? No, I didn't think so, so shove off because I did. There was everything in and around and under the hills at that table: dumplings, which for those of you not in the know, are a bread-y mass of goodness, schnitzel, Rolaten*, peas and green beans, rolls, salad, and no less than four desserts! Apple cheesecake, cherry pie, plum cake, and strawberry shortcake. Talk about heaven! I up and died it was so delicious, and the only reason I'm typing this now is because I was sent back to this place to tell y'all about such a good time of vittles. It really was something spectacular. It was so good that even thinking about it has made tiny bags of thistle start to pull on my eyes. Guess it's time for a slumber. I'll update soon, as soon as I can make time in my hectic schedule.
     *(Om Nom)

Tuesday, June 8, 2010


Apologies for the low-to-no postage (not a commercial) in the past few half-fortnights, I have been detained by several factors. One being the garage. A garage is a horrible American invention that allows us to live up to our horrible standards of large amounts of crap, where the garage is the church, and the crap is the congregation. It is horrible. Add two brothers and an auction-obsessed mother into the picture, and we have our very own Armageddon.
My father was quite adamant about not throwing anything metal away, but instead getting a "fair go" at its value at the scrap metal place in Salina. Right, like you're really going to get any substantial amount of money at the scrap metal place. But riches are to be had you say? Mountains of cash can be accumulated by the conquest of metal in its rare form of scrap, you jest? I say nay to you naysayers! Twenty three dollars was all that we could suffice from an exorbitantly large load accompanied by a clingy set of box springs. This bed burden had made no less than 9 trips throughout its 30 year lifetime in my family, and was it worth moving 9 times only to have it subjected to the demons of scrap, and being dealt a $5 scrap sentence? You are not a patriot if you say it was so! Minus the gas we had to pay to fill up the truck, minus the 2 dollar drinks at McDonald's (my mom and I were thirsty y'all), we came out in the red. Quite a prosperous afternoon that was. If you can't tell already, this monster of a garage has been consuming my life, so it is indeed not a very exciting one at all.
I came upon a philosophical thought the other day whilst watching a game of sport endured by my brethren engaging in Basketball in a town 45 minutes away from home: What if people put as much emphasis towards learning as they did on sports for their kids? That, I believe, is the million dollar question. I took a look at my brothers' calendars the other day, and they're packed fuller than a college girl's luggage after returning from a semester abroad. Pretty full I'd say.
I promise I'll update quicker from now on, I know you're just dying to hear about my exploits in Little Sweden! Oh, I think my life may have hit a new high, for tomorrow I'm going to call and see if I can join the local farmer's market with "Coop's Cooking".

Saturday, May 29, 2010


     So I went to a Catholic wedding today, not to say that a Catholic wedding distinguishes it from any other wedding, aside from the fact that it's scientifically proven to be 3 times as long, and 3 times as boring. Just kidding. But really, it wasn't all Catholic weddings in general, it was just the priest in this one. He seemed to be so overcome with emotion for the bride and groom that he felt the need to pause every 3 seconds or so, only managing to pour out a meager 2 words or so between gasps of delight. It was difficult to sit/stand/kneel through, to say the least.
     The couple, however, was and is beautiful. They were some college friends of mine who decided to do the patriotic thing and get married, and now I realize just how much farther I am from even potentially landing a girlfriend. That's life for you. Those are the kind of things that you learn on the eve of the eve of your birthday.
     This past week has been a blur. I've applied for two jobs, which has taken most of my energy out of me. Yes, the applications only took about twenty minutes each (The hospital's had a few extra pages though, almost made me give up applying! This must be their weed-out strategy), and yes, I turned them in on Thursday, but it did indeed take time to work up the courage to fill out those applications, and go through the several calculations in my head about whether or not I should even venture into these establishments. That is the stuff that I was doing the other three days of the week. Tiring, I know.
     Friday was a fun day of driving. First through Wichita, then to Sedan, Kansas, where the mightiest blues     festival on the face of the earth is set to take place this weekend. Never heard of Sedan, Kansas? That's because it's so big, they didn't have room for it on the map, so they just left it off. Seriously, you should go. They even had a high school choir open up for the downtown block party. I told you this stuff was legendary.
     Now it's time to catch up with my college buddies through several trips to the hot tub, intertwined with several trips to the regular pool in an attempt to recreate hypothermia (just kidding). Have fun this weekend, my birthday is on Monday!

Sunday, May 23, 2010


I look down upon it all, taking in this spectacle of night,

Tiny dollops of slumbering joy help to ease my fright.

The giant roar from the engine, cradles me like a glove.

I am an anomaly in flight, helpless from above. 

The great city below does little to ease my qualms.

For paradise I just left, stuffed with friendly palms. 

Now I roam over this endless, briny sea,

If land may ever come, 

gentle...may it be.

Oh Boy

Oh boy was it a gas out in paradise. So much unattainable tail, a regular ol' hootenanny thanks to some Iowans at a Luau, and some kayaking up a river with a tour guide named Candida. Hot sausage on a Sunday morning! Isn't that a sight? Didn't think so, I didn't show you anything.
     I realized that flourless cake is something indeed compared to the island's mystery on LOST. It is indeed, decadent and delicious, and should be included in all meals, including breakfast. I also learned something else on this trip. It seems that the "finer" fine dining gets, and the more expensive it is, it seems like you get less and the chefs don't do as much work. The steak is rare, the fish is uncooked. The portions are akin to something that you might feed to your teething toddler for a snack, not even close to attaining meal-hood.
Fine Dining
     How the hell am I supposed to survive on that? The answer is, you're not. You're supposed to support this "fine and exotic" dish with it's cohorts in compilation, the Appetizer and the Dessert, both masters of their trade. This is why even after all of this grand eating experience, I still want to stop down the street and pork down a basket of waffle fries and a double BBQ hickory bacon dee-lux burger.
     I have to look for a job tomorrow. I don't want to look for a job, I wish a job would look for me. But, if I want to keep fueling my ruthless cabbage patch doll addiction, I'll have to find some form of income. Take care now. 

Friday, May 21, 2010


     I took it upon myself to hike while we were in Hawaii, because it's an activity that all teenagers full of life like myself can aspire to and enjoy. What's cooler than saying you hiked the "Powerline" trail? Saying you hiked 2 1/2 miles of the "Powerline" trail and turned back because you didn't know how far it went, only to find out it went a syndrome-inducing 10 miles to the other side of the island. Thank God I didn't look for the pot of gold at the end of that rainbow.
Plumeria Cutting - Sweet Red Color Flower From Nubucks     The ultra-whiteness of my body that rivaled Edward Cullen is no more. I took care of that in one fell swoop of laying out in full UV-A and UV-B glory yesterday for a solid 20 minutes, minus sunscreen mind you. Take that albinism. So my dad has a major...hankering, for this flower called a plumeria (See -->)
He's got such a fancy for these things, I'm beginning to wonder why on earth he married my mom. For God's snakes, he called them "my plumeria". Now, his flavor of the flower usually comes in a white version with a yellow inside, but that's not saying he's elitist or anything. So this obsession got a little ridiculous, so I made a...sexual reference, if you will (and you will), to whenever he smelled those things. Needless to say, he wasn't having any of it, while indeed, he was having all of the whiffs of plumeria he could possibly muster out of two nostrils. I took it upon myself to invent a "power-smelling" method so as to increase the potential smell capacity of each whiff. Therefore, I took two "plumerii" (is that even possible to make it plural like that?) and entranced them each near my Plumeria-deprived nostrils, and inhaled. Needless to say, it was more electrifying than an episode of dog whisperer.
     We toured a coffee plantation yesterday. Yes, plantation. We took the 1/8 mile, approximately 20 minute (important plot elements here!) walking tour, and learned all about how the soul-sucking liquid is made! Did you know that the coffee bean is actually a seed of a small cherry-like fruit? They have to open it and scrape out all of the mush and sould of the fruit to get to that little heartless seed that "adults" seem to have a throbbing "love" for. Also, they said that back in the day, some time ago, there was a melting pot of people that came to the island to work the sugar cane fields (which are now the coffee fields). Right, like those people came to the island all jolly and ready to work the fields, which the tour described as "laborious and tiring work". That's an interesting way to describe an enslaved group of people. Sounds like a big party (not really). In this way, the beans are also a "melting pot" because they're all mixed up together, so you get all kinds of heritage from those beans! Man, what cultural richness! And all from coffee! They also had free little samples afterward, all in those legit containers that you pump down on, just like you metaphorically pump your soul out of your body after every sip. That stuff, needless to say, was delicious, given enough sugar and creamer of course.
     That's about all of the wisdom and wisecrackery I have for now. It's time to hit up the breakfast buffet! Someone's gotta fight for obesity, he always seems to be the underdog!

Thursday, May 20, 2010

This post was supposed to be on Sunday: Hawaii

     My father is a joy to travel with. He's almost as anxious as my mom, who requires us to "check in" at every stop. I almost feel like I should have brought along those extra strength maxi pads that I saw during a commercial break of LOST. Yes, Hulu, this ad is completely relevant to me. I swear, old people and their traveling... This is why we need to invent teleportation! But we need to also make sure we don't allow teleportation of your little chihuahua, Sparky. I heard their tails don't always make it through the flux intron voltrometer.
     Finals week took more out of me than an elephant giving birth. Now, I've never given birth to a baby elephant before, but I've rocked the heck out of a #2. I got my first B! In biology, no less; my intended major. Ironic? Or just destiny? Look people, I'm pretty sure I won't need to know what a trp operon does in order to diagnose someone's stools. "Hmm Jim, looks like you've got a little too much tryptophan in your stools, you might not want to code as many amino acids." Right. Completely essential.
     I'm mixed in my feeling pertaining to the first year of college more than an afternoon at a Dr. Dre recording session. The experiences were great, but looking back, I feel like I could have done so much more. I look at my peers and see all that they've done in merely two semesters and it's astounding. I had the great pleasure of catching up with one friend from a class from the previous semester at the end of this semester and learned of all the amazing stuff she did while I merely sat around. Compared to me, she practically built a homeless shelter in New Guinea. Not like they need it though, those pretentious Europeans (are they European?). I guess I'll just have to go out next semester and slap solar panels on everything in the name of "Going Green". I should call it going black though, since that's what color the panels are, and green implies money, which wouldn't fly for a philanthropic event of the magnitude I have planned.
     So what's the deal with this high fructose corn syrup crap these days? I'm pretty sure it's in everything, and it's the cause of my discomfort on this bajillion hour plane ride to paradise a.k.a. Hawaii. I was tricked into switching into an exit seat, which, big surprise, is smaller and more keen to my Asian math teacher than to my waistband-stretching mid line. Economy plus sucks. We're all turning into corn, end of story.
     I told the flight attendant I'd "do my best" when he asked if I was able to handle the responsibilities of the exit row. He told me I needed to say yes, and "my best" wasn't enough. Damn these are some strict standards.
     I heard an interesting theory on global warming the other day. It said the Earth has been and will be just fine, it's the human race we'll have to worry about. Quite perplexing. I wrote this on the plane and right now I 'm pretty sure my butt is flatter than western Kansas.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Scowl and Groan

     I enjoy making up phrases. Talking in the old ways is just so sophisticated, it reminds me of my Southern roots (none). We sure did put out a printin' press o' sayins on Stop Day, the Friday before finals when all studying stops, and barbecuing begins. We cooked up somethin' fierce, all to the tune of a little Old Crow Medicine Show, a good and hootin' ol' folk band.
     I started studying for finals today, it wasn't too promising, but I did a number on the books indeed. It's so disheartening, studying. It's such beautiful weather all around us, yet majors like mine are confined to the confines of dark and dusty study escapes. It's alright though, I paid my respects enough to nature. Proctor and I also paid our respects on Friday to our little 'uns that we've been raising under our tender wing at the elementary school. It's so sad to see those kids go (mass exodus of tears). Helping volunteer only strengthened my resolve that teachers should be paid more, and that it is indeed an effective form of contraception. That's all I've got for now, it's time to turn to the sheets.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Reese's and Chemistry, That's it!

     I don't know if you know this about me, but there's two things I love:
 Reeses Pieces Peanut Butter Candy 2.75lbs. - 11030-3 and Chemistry.
Now, if we get these two bad boys in the same room together, expect a little "sharing of electrons" to take place, if you will. I also care much more dearly for that nice ol' chemistry book on the right than I ever could for Reese's. If you know me at all, you will know that that statement is 100% false. Reese's are the shit. Not actual excrement, because that would just be weird. Crap, I'm hungry now.
     I'm pulling what I like to call a "late-nighter" for Chemistry, which is turning out quite well so far. I've managed to accomplish nothing in the past hour besides this lovely picture:
"An Upside Down Volcano"

     Oh God, I'm losing my mind. Finals are next week, but before finals must come the greatness of Stop Day. Stop Day is the Friday before the week of finals when there are no classes. Basically, it's an excuse for everyone to get drunk. I'll have you know that I won't be participating in this form of debauchery (which form?). Yep. I'll be studying quite studiously for the finals that I have yet to contemplate. 
     We had a Professor visit us for dinner tonight from the History Department. He was absolutely amazing is the only way I can really describe the experience. He was an extremely well-rounded guy, had seen it all, and was still proclaiming that he hadn't seen the best day of his life. I got this amazing 1 1/2 hour talk from this great man, and come to find out that he's transferring to Texas in 2 weeks. What kind of heartbreak is that? Geez, I feel like I was in a relationship. Guess I'll have to go through the breakup rituals: The Notebook (New Line Platinum Series) +Ben & Jerry's Homemade Ice Cream & Dessert Book+Kleenex 110-Count Tissues, White, Flat Box (Pack of 30) [Amazon Frustration-Free Packaging].
     That is absolutely nothing like how I feel my breakup would go. It'd probably be something like this, if I ever do in fact have the pleasure of a breakup: 
Ferrero Nutella 26.5oz. Jar+WeeRide Co-Pilot Bike Trailer+Red Drinking Helmet Soda Hat+Mountain Dew - 36/12 oz. cansNew York Prime Meat USDA Prime 21 Days Aged Beef Rib Eye Steak Boneless, 1-1/2-inch thick, 2-Count, 30-Ounce Packaged in Film & Freezer Paper+Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, 1.5-Ounce Packages (Pack of 36).

Enough said. Or unsaid? Isn't it amazing all of the stuff you can get off of Amazon? I'm going to go back to procrastinating, it's quite a task. Cheers. 

Tuesday, May 4, 2010


So our Team Black class has whipped us all into a terror of a fury. For two weeks now, our professor has told us that he'd "Double Check" on the time of the final, and for two weeks we have been served a cold cut sandwich of disappointment with no mustard or mayo or nothin'. And today, the last day of class, justice was finally demanded, and it was received. We learned that our final was Tuesday. But wait! There's more! Halfway through a clip of a movie we were viewing we noticed the TA changing the time to Monday, a very bold move. He even had the balls to not point it out to us. Well, I shouldn't say us, I was alerted quite readily when he was scribbling hieroglyphics up on the board, words and numbers so rare and extinct that I could barely believe my eyes (an actual final time). He didn't point it out to the incompetent, which would be the other 90% of the class that didn't have the luxury of sitting in the front row while pussing out while sitting next to a beautiful Hollandish girl who then later on in class proceeded to badmouth America by calling it lazy and some aspects of it "half-assed", and basically derailing Cabela's Outlet as pointless. Now I don't know about y'all, but that there's a pretty ripe sentence for gettin' yerself sent ter Azkerban or wherever they send them crazy fools these days, Guantenero or something. I'd say she  pretty much up and declared herself a terrorist by committin' those words to the air.
     Other things: I went to the gym today, and therefore those 30 minutes of semi-non-intense exercise justified the glorious bowl of dairy and chocolate-laden sex that I consumed not too long ago. I am indeed referring to ice cream. By the way, Ben and Jerry's is some amazing freaking ice cream. I think I've mentioned it before, but I just wanted to mention it again. I was born and raised on it. Hell, my parents even honeymooned 'round those parts. I even took a detour out of my college visit on the east coast to see the factory. You could call it a Mecca of sorts. And with all Meccas, there's got to be a holy book. This book folks, is this: Ben & Jerry's Homemade Ice Cream & Dessert Book. This stuff will make you pick up more chicks than a forklift, and that's a hell of a lot of women. I've made countless recipes from this bible, and they all equal another step closer to heaven (or hell, however you see it).
     Last night I made no-bakes, and actually competed against a duo of man's counterpart: woman. We went our separate ways, me adding Ferrero Nutella 26.5oz. Jar to my repertoire of star-studded ingredients. Lest we say that mine were obviously much more delicious, and therefore a contest had to be held to confirm the women's baking inferiority. I titled the voting sheet: No-bake vs. Bro-Bake. Clever, I know. Ego-boosting? Check. Still waiting to see the results of that battle, but it's pretty safe to say who's superior.
     Finals are coming up next week, which basically means the final trip of your soul into nothingness as you waste away countless hours studying before given three months to recover and try and pick up what pieces are left of you, literal and figurative. This has been a great trip so far though, I've got to hand it to college. There's been no better time in my life so far. It's about time to lay down a sack of Z's (go to bed) before my comedic presence grows ice (gets cold). Give me five on the black hand side y'all! Peace.

Sunday, May 2, 2010


So it's been a while. I hope you didn't feel deprived of your daily dose of depressing discourse. Was that enough alliteration for you? This weekend has been...epic, to say the least. I'll start you off with Friday:
     Friday is hazy, what did I waste my time doing? Oh I know, I traveled to the Overland Park/Olathe (all the same to me, they're a suburb as the big KC) mall to get some more tea. Why, you might ask, would you, an idiotic teenage college kid, travel 45 minutes out of your way to get some stupid tea? I'll tell you why, because it's damn good stuff. It's from a place called Teavana in the mall. I know I know, you scoff at the fact of anything good coming out of a mall besides clothes (and roasted almonds), but indeed there are good consumer items somewhere in this world of malls. I truly am a lover of this tea, which is a combination of apple lemon pomegranate and imperial acai blueberry teas. I really enjoy the fact that it's called imperial, because then it gives me the feeling like my trip was not one to a suburban mall, but a wild safari upon elephant-back into the Orient to gather some other-worldly spices. You may call it a trip to the mall, but I call it adventure. Hey, I even ran into this phenomenon called rush hour on the way back, so that counts for something. In safari terms, that would've been the part where the elephant stepped on a thorn and pussed out so I had to read it a Dr. Seuss book to get it back into the mental mode to carry me onward toward the Orient of tea. I digress.
     There was also a suspected shooter on campus! :O (sideways gasp face) There was noise of a disturbance in McCollum Hall, and words consisting of "Where's my gun" were overheard. Now if I'm not mistaken, that just sounds like some rough foreplay. It's no need to send the campus into a frenzied spiral of panic. It actually did the opposite for me, I wasn't fooled. Nope, I drove up as close as possible to try and get a look at the potential porn star, presumably in dorm room 343, because that number is of course an innuendo (no it isn't) {yes it is}. Anyway, that was a fun and exciting time for the University. One of my good friends at the esteemed Kansas State University even texted me within 10 minutes of myself receiving the alert, asking about the news. This of course meant that he had no life of his own if he was inquiring about my University, but I responded anyway with this gem: (There's blood everywhere.) Now that's a pretty open-ended answer, and one fitting for the situation. He didn't respond.
     On Saturday I helped out an old friend with State Journalism for high school. I would like to point out that I am in no way connected to anything journalism, I just like to help out my friends (and score brownie points with them). Only did I realize after my friend had introduced me to one of her good friends, and we had been chatting for quite some time that I had a protrusion from the side of my head the size of the Eiffel Tower. Photo-realistic Description follows:
"God Help Humanity"
Embarrassing, I know. Way to go Coop, you sure do look like a straight shooter, spot off the cover of GQ magazine! Nothing a little water and paper towels can't fix. I think the indicator for a shower reaches critical mass when you can run your fingers through your hair, and it stays in that position. Holy Crap. 
     That was fun, sitting and watching high schoolers write pathetic stories about "Ad Astra High." What kind of bullshit name for a school is that? That's like the quintessential patriotic name. I personally think they should have named it Mohammed High, just for some diversity. 
     The real good time came afterward when I had the pleasure of catching up with some high school friends, who reassured me that indeed, college life is better, and high school drama and events are 95% worthless. The other 5% included the possible "real" conversations that might have taken place during those 4 years, accompanied by those one or two amazing teachers that actually gave a shit about you and you formed deep, long-lasting relationships with. I do, in fact, have basically two mothers thanks to our education system and surprisingly high quality teachers at SV high. 
     The rest of the day was spent catching up on much needed sleep, which I've heard is quite a hot commodity come this time of year, and spending some quality time with my good friend Erika from Washburn, what a dear. There's nothing like spending time with a platonic friend by purchasing Chipotle with a buy one get one free card and then skimping on Ben and Jerry's by going to Walmart instead of the scoop shop just down the street. I am almost certain, however, that Ben and Jerry's runs in my veins, because I was told that my mother consumed a metric ton of the stuff during pregnancy. Great stories. I'll quit bothering you now. 

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Somethin' Fierce

It's blowin' somethin' fierce out there as they say...and they do say.
Here's another picture I drew since Tosin liked the first one so much:
Hope that's big enough for you (TWHS).
     I had a great walk and time with some friends from the old country(home) this eventide. Saw the sunset, tripped on a twig, deprived a homeless man of a hatchet. You know, the usual.
     Being home has been refreshing. I'm pretty sure it put my brain into shock, being home from college on a Wednesday. I'm glad, that little shit needed a rude awakening.
     Do you ever have that thought about creating something grandiose? It's like you hear that one song, you know the one, and it just makes you want to do big things. You want to conquer the world all because you heard just one simple song. No? I must just be speaking to God, I heard he's into stuff like that.
     I overheard some rich gossip this evening at dinner at Jalisco's, the only mexican restaurant within a 20 mile radius. It's pretty big news for a Swedish town of 3,000 people. It's also kind of sad that the busiest restaurant in town is a mexican restaurant. They must be doing something right, besides the whole giving your stomach a re-enactment of Pickett's Charge as the gooey cheesy mess scampers through your intestines. It's grand jocularity. Anyway, the gossip went something like this: "I haven't heard her answer the phone much, it's always him answering the phone. I don't know what it means."
   Hot damn boys we have us a story! That's something to write home about for sure! What's sad is that this is the kind of stuff that people in my town will talk about for days on end. If someone were to step on somebody's tulip in their yard, we'd have the whole town in a mob setting with pitchforks and clogs to boot.
     That's all I've got for now, be sure to stop by Pearson tomorrow if you're looking for a great Rom-Com and some disparaging college boys.

Cosmic Love

I downloaded this song today: Cosmic Love Yes, I actually paid for content for once. I saw it in the tv show V. It's about aliens and shit. Kind of cool, but what was really cool was the love scene where this song came in. The hot alien chick (who looks like a human) and the guy dude start goin' after it, all intergalactic style. Gives me hope that if nothing ever pans out for me here on earth, there's always other species to be had.
Today is my mom's birthday! She's now older, wiser, crankier, emotional, and irritating to be around! Just kidding about some of those. I'm going home today to surprise her. Some surprise right? I merely have to show up from a 2 1/2 hour drive for an evening and boom, I'm a knight in shining armor swooping in to add somewhat exciting elements to my mother's day of birth which I'm sure she's excited about since she loves her mother so dearly. Should be fun. I also found out my brothers are going to Genesis tennis lessons in Wichita till 8. What kind of idiot would send their kids an hour away for most of the duration of their birthday? Oh I know, a smart idiot. Too bad though, you can't get rid of me! No distance will come between this boy and his eternal love for his caretaker! Not even the delicious dinner being had at the hall tonight. Oh shit, it's a delicious dinner, we might have to rethink this going home mother birthday thing. I wonder if she can reschedule?
     Today we did teacher evaluations in my math class. If you don't happen to know, and I'm sure you don't, my class is run by an Asian Dynasty. Well, more like one woman, but she makes it really tough to browse the web on your Apple iPod touch 8 GB (2nd Generation--with iPhone OS 3.1 Software  (Installed) [NEWEST MODEL] (this exact model). I say browse the web because I don't think I'd ever actually commit to anything on the web, even this blog (just kidding [not really {really}]).
     I have to go clog my arteries with chicken tetrazzini for the time being, it should be a scream.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

The Great Divide

There are mountains, valleys, and rivers. There are doors, locks, and levees. All serve their purpose, mostly boundaries. The boundary I reference is the cosmic divide that stands between myself, and the gorgeous inhabitants of this Earth we call women. Today, I took the first step on the rickety bridge to cross that divide, and it promptly broke and I fell through and now I have a broken ankle. I'll have to call maintenance to get that fixed (i.e. Ben and Jerry's).
Well, there's a girl in my History of African American Images in Film (Team Black) class that is a Hollandic Goddess. I shit you not. Well, she's very cute, and as one of my friends put it, she has the "ethnic flair". Here is the most abominable picturistic representation i could possibly give:

And the caption would read: "I'm from Holland! Isn't that hot?
Look people, my artistic skills aren't the greatest. So, this girl who I had never talked to, only got her name from the sign in sheet because it's the only one that's foreign, I was being coerced (or told to grow a pair) by my classmates/hallmates (we have about 7 of us together in the class from the hall) to ask her out to a rock concert tonight, cold turkey. Horrible idea, I know. You'll be relieved to know I didn't proceed with this course of diabolical destruction. Instead, I was on the verge of "wussing out" when my friend forced me up by the professor where she was sitting in the front row, right after class, positioning me to talk to her. I merely lingered behind him, feeling my genitalia shrink at an exponential rate. Thankfully, God hath rained down a ray of hope and for some ungodly reason, she also went to talk to the professor. This was my chance. I asked her if the name I had sheepishly stolen off of the sign-in sheet was correct, and then asked her about where she was from. Turns out it's Holland, big surprise there, I knew it was where all of the hot chicks resided. I asked her about study abroad and all that good stuff, and we went on our way. No way was I going to merely ask her to a concert upon the first time talking to her, even though I had indeed seen her many times, but she probably had indeed not seen me. It was a win for humanity, and fat people.
On the way out, my so-called "friends" asked me what went down, and I noticed her friend was at the back of the hall waiting for her, texting. Yes, hot chicks do not go without friends. I told them to be quiet because her friend heard everything, and as my luck would have it, her friend was also walking up the stairs right behind us. I have no idea how she could have galavanted so quickly to the stairs, as I was certain she was not trained in the ways of ninja. Anywho, I saw her, and things went deftly quiet in the staircase until I broke the seal with, "What's for dinner?". Smooth like butter. We'll see how that disaster plays out.
I made no-bakes after dinner because the dinner cooks didn't make their dessert. It's fine, I didn't really feel/like mediocre cherry cheesecake made by half-ass cooks anyway. No-bakes are a round, oaty ball of chocolate and peanut butter sex.
I went to the gym today with my black friend Tosin. I say black friend not to accentuate the fact that he's black and badass, but because the acronym can be shortened to BFT, which can mean a lot of things. Big f-ing ta-ta's is one. Busy Freaks in Transit is another. When we were approaching the building, we saw the strangest thing. There was a guy who was peering over toward the parking lot and staring at every car, which were like 40 feet away from him. If he was trying to examine the paint scratches on each car, he was doing a terrible job of it. Anyway, he also looked like he was trying to double as a spy that was trying to evade someone. He was terrible for a number of reasons.
1. He almost walked in to a shrub. It specifically states in the spy notebook that if you are going to be an effective spy, you cannot go careening into shrubs. That will most surely destroy the universe.
2. He was walking towards a gym. This is obviously an utterly stupid place to try and be avoiding someone. With all of the great and succulent tail that exits and enters that building, it'd be stupid to think that everyone's eyes aren't on red alert.
3. He looked like Indiana Jones. Stupid, I know. I just wish I could have delivered that message to him.
So anyway, he took a path that looked something like this:
Stupid, right?
My roommate is so badass, but I'll save that for another post. I'll leave you with this bit of glory: What would you say to a person that bought a desk chair 2 weeks before finals? You'd say he's a God and possibly the holy trinity for having such foresight and not waiting till the next semester? Ha, stop, you're being too kind.

Cyclic AMP

Lord Jesus, thank ye for bringing thy grace down upon my befallen mother. I know she hath taken a near eternity to relinquish two destitute computers from her grasp, and commit them to the world of IT where they can be made knew. Forgive her, for it is not her fault for straying off of the path of silicon. Bless her, bless those two macs, and forgive us our viruses.
In regular people's speak, my mom finally took our two shitty Macbook Pros in to get their power ports replaced! Ooh, sounds dirty don't you think? I'll write her a virus (wink face).
The past week or two, we've been enjoying the spoils of the projector I took from home, and viewing a picture show out on the front lawn every thursday eventide (my word for evening). I'm getting bold this week, ditching the inhaler, and going over to invite Kappa Sorority house to our mundane event. Sure, it doesn't have mass quantities of alcohol or smoking hot men decked out in douche capes (See picture below)

Joel McHale art a genius in coining that term.
But at least we are kind, genuine, and sincere, and have just as equal intentions as all of those "bros" but just not in such an obvious way. I mean, if I were a smoking hot sorority girl, why wouldn't I want to come to an event with a poster as fucking sweet as this:
I rest my case. For all of you out there wondering who I could possibly referring to as "we", how a person so utterly weird could possibly contrive friendships, I reply that I live in a scholarship hall. I equate it to a frat, but we're just not douchebags. Pretty cool, right? Even more, I live in the coolest of the Schol Halls, so that kind of makes us king of the nerds or something. All hail the motherboard!

Enough of this debauchery. I found out yesterday that I am going to Hawaii in two weeks! I was also less than a millisecond later reminded that I am in nowhere near the shape that I want to be for this grand adventure. Does anyone know of a crash course to lose 30 pounds in two weeks? Has anyone tried dying for a short while and then coming back to life? I wonder if that would produce more weight loss than just exercising. I should probably make a pro/ cons list:
Pro: Lose weight, be like Jesus
Con: Dead, slight chance I might not be the second coming of Jesus.

I'll have to weigh my options on that one. Anywho, I'm excited to go, to travel, to relax, and to be stuck on the most beautiful rock in the middle of nowhere.

My biology class that I should have been paying attention to is ending, guess my time is up for now.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Food for thought

This is a sweet ass picture I drew. I maybe exerted 1% of effort to do that. Wait, make it two, I had to export it...damn. My family came to my institution of learning this weekend. My brothers, 9 and 11 (no coincidence to the hallowed accident) reaffirmed their convictions that I am indeed stupid, fat, and retarded. Funny, I had begun to forget that I was any of those things. Not even that fact that I can't see my shoes when I look down reminded me of it. Thank god I have a 9 year old brother to constantly remind me that I'm a fat loser. Obviously, picking your nose and wearing the same shirt day after day is much cooler than college. Oh wait, I do that too...shit.
I was in a place today that I don't usually go: the Engineering Building. We had a poster project to create for chemistry that basically reaffirmed the fact that indeed, the lake on campus and the lake 10 minutes out of town are not exactly two peas in a pod when it comes down to the fecal coliform test. Oh ho, don't get me started on the fecal coliform test. Let's just say it separates the forks from the knives if you know what I mean (and I think you know what I mean). Anyway, I chanced upon a delectable selection amongst the savory selection of corn syrup-laden beverages, and this was no (Red)Bull. It was the illustrious MELLO YELLO! I thought for sure it had been condemned to the same fate as Surge years ago, and that it merely existed in a ghostly form at the overpriced silver screen. This was a moment of victory! For surely, if Mello Yello is on the rise, so is the acceptance of fat people! Soon enough, we will have Mello Yello to thank for the return of my kind. This shit is going to be biblical.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Cooking is food for your belly, not for the soul.

So this semester my grandiose dreams of ascending to the food-like throne of Emeril have been reduced to Lunch Cook, or as I call it: The art of heating things up. It really is painstaking work, especially with the ovens that Pearson Hall possesses. Those monsters take more coaxing than it takes me to coax myself to exercise (Be it known, this is a number so vast and so large, the scientific community has yet to quantify it). Once the two WWII relics of heat begin their ascent to a paltry 100 degrees below the temperature you set them at, and never quite attaining that temperature, lunch making is all but over. Simply insert some form of frozen chicken, coupled with some form of frozen potatoes, and Voila, lunch for 50 college students. No more will lunch take on these simple ways, for I tasked myself to whip up specialty items so rare and delightful for lunch, that even I sometimes haven't heard of them.
This leads to some interesting and stressful times in the PK (Pearson Kitchen) for me. My cooking partner, bless his heart, has yet to take any of the responsibility, but I digress. He is faithful nonetheless in helping me attempt to create the most scrumptious and taste-gasm inducing Lunches anyone this side of the SYSCO delivery line has seen.
Today, for example, was an interesting attempt at Turkey Tetrazzini and Green Bean Casserole. Tetrazzini might sound fancy, but it isn't, except for when you're trying to cook it for 50 people and it becomes a CF of ingredients in quantities even obese people couldn't handle. That's when you just throw all attempts of gourmet-ness not out the window, but into a pan that could double as a baby's crib. Shove that big nasty into the clutches of the inferno, and hope to god it's ready by 11:45. Talk about stressful.
It's really disappointing the day after a good workout when the stairs leading up to my classes seem even harder than the day I had been doing nothing but sitting on my trusty cheeks shoving my face full of dessert pizza and attempting to grasp the concepts of "Chemistry". Ridiculous, I know. It almost makes me want to plow through the two 5-gallon cartons of ice cream that so surreptitiously display the slogan "Made just for you" proudly on the outside. I call bullshit. If it was all made "Just for me", then what am I going to tell all of the other 47 guys in my hall? "Sorry guys, you can't have any of this horrendous amount of ice cream, I've got strict orders straight from the top that this is only to be consumed by yours truly". I'm sure that'll go off without a moonlight assassination attempt. In our hall, ice cream is like gold, and fruit gushers are silver coins. This is exactly why I have taken the liberty of stashing them all behind a geometric defense system of graham cracker and pudding boxes. Their future is in my hands.
Enough about food, isn't it beautiful outside? That's actually where I'm writing this post. It puts me in prime position to gawk at all the lovely women I'll never have a chance with, along with forming my very first swass of the year (connect the dots, you'll get it). I came to the realization sometime during this first year of higher learning that it is like a utopia of beautiful women, and nowhere else can this amount of good looks be found (besides strip joints). It almost makes me want to stick around for a few more years. Too bad I have to stick to that tight pre-med schedule, ouch! Maybe I'll just switch over to business, that should free up quite a bit of time.
Well I figure that's enough banter for now, the chick I had just set my sights of infatuation upon just caught on to the game I've been playing. Draw Cubes!

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Oh, College

So, College has come upon me, at it has for many. I understand now why high school didn't matter that much. At all. I'm sitting in Bio lecture, enjoying the fruits of knowledge, and can't help but wonder why I haven't been more aware all of my life. Dang this whole thing would've been much easier if I would've just "got it" before I came here. It's great, don't get me wrong, but the safety manual before the flight seemed to only contain the title.