And He Tried to Kill Me With a Hammer...

White Trash

While at home over fall break, Lori decided to take advantage of my creative abilities while they were in town. She had a volleyball Halloween costume party to attend and no costume. She asked me for ideas. I said trashcan which she initially didn't like. After reconsideration, she chose to go with the idea. I purchased a trashcan then spent an hour cutting the bottom out. (It's harder than it looks!!)I attached some suspenders, threw in some household garbage, and TA-DA...HALLOWEEN HAWTNESS! Oh...and the headband has flies
circling her head, because she smells like poo.

Ahhhhh...Now I Understand...

Insheeption
Tags: SOUTH
PARKStan Marsh,Mr. Mackey,more...

As the Midterm Season Comes to an End...

Over the weekend, Saturday night to be exact, I saw the legend Bob Dylan in concert. His ability to play music is still incredible, though now he favors the keyboard over the guitar. His voice, on the other hand, was a different story. To describe it as scratchy is doing it a favor, but then again no telling how many things he's smoked in his sixty-nine years on this earth...so I guess if you look at it from that perspective his voice was better than expected. He's more rock based, shying away from the acoustic/folksy sound he's known for.

Now that I've discussed Bob Dylan himself, let's focus on the audience. The college-aged concert-goers were MUCH better behaved than the 45+ crowd. I was sincerely embarrassed for some of the people there. Yes, I know that you are children of the counterculture and you've probably taken one too many trips on hallucinogenic drugs, but that is NO EXCUSE for the behavior exhibited.

To the man sitting directly in front of me,
Obviously, you've had too much to drink...understandable. Not understandable is your frantic rocking back-and-forth, to-and-fro to the music. You look like you're on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

-To the man sitting to the left of the man sitting directly in front of me,
I've been to quite a few concerts, but never witnessed an individual perform the "rock on" sign. Thank you for being my first.
PS. I think the "rock on" sign died with Kurt Cobain, so you might want to stop doing that.

-To the solitary woman standing up in the upper section crowd,
Stop reliving your drug-induced days as a hippie. Your dancing, lead completely by the swaying motion of your head, is making me dizzy. Sit yo-self down!

-To the man dancing in the aisle of the section farthest away from the stage,
I'm sorry the security guy told you to stop blocking the aisle. You demonstrated great perseverance by continuing to dance in the rows of seats. I appreciated it and I'm sure Bob did as well.

-To the man twirling, running back-and-forth, and occasionally stopping to hug yourself in an empty box seat,
No denying the fact that you are on some sort of drug.

MOVING ALONG NOW...

A single midterm stands between me and fall break. This fact is the only thing that keeps me going.

I've received my grades on the two midterms I took last week. An 86.29 on my POLI 181 exam, which as my professor informed me was exactly the class median. YAY FOR MEDIOCRACY!! I also discovered that my professor previously taught at Harvard, which instantly makes the class harder and me smarter. BOOM. I received a 89 on my DRAM 283 midterm, which is truly a miracle seeing as how I didn't study at all...I was too busy studying for my POLI midterm.

NOW SOME FOOD FOR THOUGHT...



My personal favorite hairstyle has to be the cornrows by far!!

Also, Homer Simpson and the rest of the Simpson clan have been named Catholic.

My First Encounter with a Real Boob Job.

I was waiting for a stall in the UL bathroom (my habitual place for peeing). Waiting in line for the bathroom can already be awkward...not terribly awkward...but nonetheless awkward. Silently waiting, I could not help but notice the girl standing in front of the bathroom's mirror. She winced in pain as she grasped her boobs with both hands. Slowly, she moved her boobs up-and-down and from side-to-side. Right about now, I'm sounding like a complete perv, but if you were waiting for the bathroom, you know that you would be doing the exact same thing. WE WERE IN A PUBLIC RESTROOM FOR GOD'S SAKE!! Apparently, I wasn't very successful at hiding my confusion/shock.

The girl looks at me and says, nonchalantly,"My doctor told me that I have to move them."

I nod, as if I understand, but obviously there's even more confusion on my face, hence prompting a further explanation.

"I had surgery."

"Ohhhhhhhhhh..." I say in a feeble attempt not to let my horror reflect in my voice.

The girl, still with a firm hold on her boobs, looks down at them contemplatively. She then turns to me.

"It hurts worst than anything I've ever had done in my life. I'm doubting whether they (referring to her boobs) were even worth it."


Luckily, a stall became available. I skillfully dodged any other embarrassing dialogue with this girl.