Don't eat expired Easy Mac (tm). Trust me.

For the vast majority of this epic blogging exploration I have concentrated my efforts to having at least something that remotely resembles a focus. However, tonight will be entirely different. There's a tiny liberating feeling in swaying on the cusp of a literary roller-coaster of glory. So tonight I will spend 500 plus words without a topic in mind or arugment to convey, tonight... will be phenomenal.

Dinner was fantastic. Eating almost every day in a giant Dining Commons really got me pondering the possibility of mass embarassment. Really, I've just been waiting for it to happen and with barely 3 weeks left I'm not sure if my visions will peep into reality before the conclusion of the year. I figure there are two scenarios. I can either spill my food all over the ground/person, or someone can spill their food all over the ground/me. I would definitely choose the later. And I would sieze the moment just to stand there and sulk in my pitiful Orange-Chicken-Vegan-Sunflower-Cutlet-Basil-Marinara drenched self to look the world in the eyes and say, "Worst day ever..."

Yeah, spoiled Easy-Mac (tm) not cool at all. Possibly most not cool entity ever created ever. I had a hankering for some munchies post 3am on a 5am work-night which consequently led to a 6:30am stomach grinding whirlwind of doom.

Remind me to write a blog about the perfect team members for a hoodlum posse.

I finally washed my laundry after 3 plus weeks. Yeah, probably too much information, but I stayed relatively clean. It just comes to a point when you see me wearing dress shirts and under-armor, remind me that washing my clothes is most definitely worth the effort.

I reminisced about Jean-Claude Van Damme in "Blood Sport" tonight (another awesomely bad movie that I've seen on TNT superstation eleventy thousand times). There's that sick part where Van Damme has his hands around Chung-Li's neck at the very end and screams at him, "SAY IT!" attempting to forcibly coerce the antagonist into surrendering in the fight. And of course Van Damme has his eyes sickly-wide-open because that villainous cheating bastard threw blinding powder in his freaking eyes.

Twiggy, the hippy on Telegraph Ave. right in front of T-Shirt-Orgy (tm) made me a custom pair of Rasta juggling sticks (also referred to as Devil Sticks, or Mystix). After a friday of class I proceeded to "stick" with Twiggy for about an hour trading moves, chatting about stick construction preferences, and he said he'd make me a custom pair of whatever I wanted. Obviously, I asked for an 18inch Wood Core Black tape with red, yellow, and green leather flares and two bi-symmetrical 18inch fiberglass wands without hand padding and roll direction grip tape. Basically, their sick, and I feel seventy times cooler wielding those custom made bad-boys. Childhood fantasy, maybe 3 people in this world would agree with me.

Vivian made a sick Psychology Informational Booklet of fluffy child-saving joy. No, seriously. The thing is probably sevent one times more well crafted than any Adolescent Psychological Analysis Handbook that I could have ever made.

A friend of mine just tried to Google Map the driving time from here to Columbia.

Well friends, the Academic Services Center dictators just whipped out the bullhorn to inform me that my computer lab time is running to an end. Before I sign off I'd just like to thank you for accompanying me on this wonderful poetic journey. And to be perfectly honest, with how amazing this just felt I may be utilizing this writing style many more times over. God help us all.

Sleep well, if you can't--sip some Nyquil, and dream easy.

Dream of me.

Labels: easy mac, juggling sticks, random

This entry was posted on Monday, April 23, 2007 at 12:32 AM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.