Mjarc
Whatev.
That new Saves the Day video is fucking good. At first I was a bit weirded out by it. Mostly because it was just the singer, but after I showed it to four more people and got used to it, I've upgraded its official status to "killer". I like the concept. I like the fact that its just the singer in front of the camera lipsyncing along (which he seems to pull off pretty well). And, though I know it probably only involved simple mathematics, I blew my own mind trying to figure out how they got the song to end perfectly between scenes in the life of that guy that they filmed ... blah blah blah. Haven't seen it yet? [GO HERE]
You know what else I like? Socks. I'm a big fan. I was wearing this extremely raggedy pair all day today, and it was just before I got into the shower at about 8:30pm that I noticed there was a gargantuan hole in the ankle of the one on my right foot. My pants are a bit high. I do the old one-cuff trick because I've been buying pants with a 32 length for the past five or six years now. Only recently did I discover than I'm a 30. Not a big fan of the bunch at the bottom on the shoes. But I digress.
All day today, my classes were boring as fuck, and I just couldn't get comfortable. In class one, we all sit at computers (though we never use them) and stare across the room at this drama queen (who happens to be a male) of a professor. The guy rants on and on about how his wife's Japanese, and how people call his office phone and leave discrimanatory messages, and how a dog died on the day of Nixon's resignation, and how he offended one of his graduate professors in 1977, and how his kids tell each other to "fuck off", and how he let his youngest son watch the sex scene in Born on the Fourth of July until the little guy got too uncomfortable with it and then they went into the garage to have "The Talk", and on and on. I was throwing my legs around that room, trying to find some spot that I could sit in for more than two minutes without feeling fidgety. Unfortunately, I never got comfortable, and I was probably showing gargantuan amounts of my sexy skin to people that weren't interested. Or maybe they were.
"But the word 'yet' ..."
Fast forward to class number two, and its the same deal. Shitty room. Terrible conversation in our groups, and I find myself disinterested. About the only comfort I've got going is that its winter and I can wear my coat and my hoodie and bury myself under piles of clothes. Especially so considering the fact that they keep Stevenson Hall Room 401A at a balmy 62 degrees year round. Yipes, my flapping Aunt Fanny. I think I saw snowflakes on the walk home today. Me likes.
These past few weeks have been pretty much bullshit with the 60 and 70 degree weather in Illinois in November. I remember back in the day during the end of Little League season in September and early October when my mom would be huddled under a blanket in the bleachers. Two months later than that this year and I was contemplating wearing shorts to a 9:30am class. Who killed God? I should be wearing a tarp, a blanket, and a layer of fur for fuck's sake. That's the way I like it, and I'll be damned if someone's going to fuck it up.
Whatev.
That new Saves the Day video is fucking good. At first I was a bit weirded out by it. Mostly because it was just the singer, but after I showed it to four more people and got used to it, I've upgraded its official status to "killer". I like the concept. I like the fact that its just the singer in front of the camera lipsyncing along (which he seems to pull off pretty well). And, though I know it probably only involved simple mathematics, I blew my own mind trying to figure out how they got the song to end perfectly between scenes in the life of that guy that they filmed ... blah blah blah. Haven't seen it yet? [GO HERE]
You know what else I like? Socks. I'm a big fan. I was wearing this extremely raggedy pair all day today, and it was just before I got into the shower at about 8:30pm that I noticed there was a gargantuan hole in the ankle of the one on my right foot. My pants are a bit high. I do the old one-cuff trick because I've been buying pants with a 32 length for the past five or six years now. Only recently did I discover than I'm a 30. Not a big fan of the bunch at the bottom on the shoes. But I digress.
All day today, my classes were boring as fuck, and I just couldn't get comfortable. In class one, we all sit at computers (though we never use them) and stare across the room at this drama queen (who happens to be a male) of a professor. The guy rants on and on about how his wife's Japanese, and how people call his office phone and leave discrimanatory messages, and how a dog died on the day of Nixon's resignation, and how he offended one of his graduate professors in 1977, and how his kids tell each other to "fuck off", and how he let his youngest son watch the sex scene in Born on the Fourth of July until the little guy got too uncomfortable with it and then they went into the garage to have "The Talk", and on and on. I was throwing my legs around that room, trying to find some spot that I could sit in for more than two minutes without feeling fidgety. Unfortunately, I never got comfortable, and I was probably showing gargantuan amounts of my sexy skin to people that weren't interested. Or maybe they were.
"But the word 'yet' ..."
Fast forward to class number two, and its the same deal. Shitty room. Terrible conversation in our groups, and I find myself disinterested. About the only comfort I've got going is that its winter and I can wear my coat and my hoodie and bury myself under piles of clothes. Especially so considering the fact that they keep Stevenson Hall Room 401A at a balmy 62 degrees year round. Yipes, my flapping Aunt Fanny. I think I saw snowflakes on the walk home today. Me likes.
These past few weeks have been pretty much bullshit with the 60 and 70 degree weather in Illinois in November. I remember back in the day during the end of Little League season in September and early October when my mom would be huddled under a blanket in the bleachers. Two months later than that this year and I was contemplating wearing shorts to a 9:30am class. Who killed God? I should be wearing a tarp, a blanket, and a layer of fur for fuck's sake. That's the way I like it, and I'll be damned if someone's going to fuck it up.
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