Marc
It's A Membership Card, Not A Piece of Toilet Paper:
Today was a weird one. I found out that I don't like heat -- though I think I've always known it. I've already said this once somewhere else, but I'll say it again -- Mother Nature fucked us over. She gave us two or three days between winter and spring, and expected us to be prepared to jump straight into summer. What the hell? Why do we always get screwed like this? Huh? Can anyone tell me? I just don't like the sweat in uncomfortable places. It's not as bad as it used to be. I used to have a problem with pit-sweat. I'm not being gross. I keep telling myself this. In fact, I honestly don't know why I'm telling you this, but what do I care? It's not like it's anywhere near as graphic as Scooter's testicle tale (which was hilarious btw). So, pit-sweat, yeah. No matter the temperature, or the season, I would always have these pit-sweats. They were an unstoppable force, with a mind of their own. No shirt I had was untouched. Finally, I went to the doctor, and he gave me this great prescription for a thing called DrySol which must like kill the sweat glands in your pits, because it burns the first few times you use it. But it fucking works, that's for damn sure. I apply it every two or three weeks, get the refills whenever I need them, and my problem has been solved. Or, it was solved, I guess I should say, cause this happened about three or four years ago, but I'm still amazed by it.
I also found out that I'm lazier than I thought I was. I had someone sign the attendance sheet for me today in one class that I didn't feel like going to. What did I do when I got home? Nothing. Laid on the couch, tried to stay cool, watched Matt nod in and out of unconsciousness. Little asswipe said yesterday, "I haven't been sick in about a year." Ha! Guess who regrets saying that out loud today? Hilarious.
I found out that I'm terrible at perceptions, both of me and pertaining to me. I should just leave it at that. I'm just floored, is all. Completely. I'm like the Cubs, yo.
So, now I'm sitting near the window, with the wind blazing in, comforting me indeed. It's so nice outside right now, but I just know that I can't sleep with my window open because those FUCKS are going to start construction at seven or eight tomorrow, and once I get up and pee I have a terrible time trying to get back to sleep. I don't know what else to say. It's quite the pickle that I'm in -- sleep with the window open and risk an early morning wake up, or sleep with the window closed and risk a humid night of no sleep? Ugh. I hate (the idea of) God.
It's A Membership Card, Not A Piece of Toilet Paper:
Today was a weird one. I found out that I don't like heat -- though I think I've always known it. I've already said this once somewhere else, but I'll say it again -- Mother Nature fucked us over. She gave us two or three days between winter and spring, and expected us to be prepared to jump straight into summer. What the hell? Why do we always get screwed like this? Huh? Can anyone tell me? I just don't like the sweat in uncomfortable places. It's not as bad as it used to be. I used to have a problem with pit-sweat. I'm not being gross. I keep telling myself this. In fact, I honestly don't know why I'm telling you this, but what do I care? It's not like it's anywhere near as graphic as Scooter's testicle tale (which was hilarious btw). So, pit-sweat, yeah. No matter the temperature, or the season, I would always have these pit-sweats. They were an unstoppable force, with a mind of their own. No shirt I had was untouched. Finally, I went to the doctor, and he gave me this great prescription for a thing called DrySol which must like kill the sweat glands in your pits, because it burns the first few times you use it. But it fucking works, that's for damn sure. I apply it every two or three weeks, get the refills whenever I need them, and my problem has been solved. Or, it was solved, I guess I should say, cause this happened about three or four years ago, but I'm still amazed by it.
I also found out that I'm lazier than I thought I was. I had someone sign the attendance sheet for me today in one class that I didn't feel like going to. What did I do when I got home? Nothing. Laid on the couch, tried to stay cool, watched Matt nod in and out of unconsciousness. Little asswipe said yesterday, "I haven't been sick in about a year." Ha! Guess who regrets saying that out loud today? Hilarious.
I found out that I'm terrible at perceptions, both of me and pertaining to me. I should just leave it at that. I'm just floored, is all. Completely. I'm like the Cubs, yo.
So, now I'm sitting near the window, with the wind blazing in, comforting me indeed. It's so nice outside right now, but I just know that I can't sleep with my window open because those FUCKS are going to start construction at seven or eight tomorrow, and once I get up and pee I have a terrible time trying to get back to sleep. I don't know what else to say. It's quite the pickle that I'm in -- sleep with the window open and risk an early morning wake up, or sleep with the window closed and risk a humid night of no sleep? Ugh. I hate (the idea of) God.
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