I've figured out exactly what I am. I am...American Eurotrash with an Asian Fetish. It's amazing what four minutes of boredom will do to a person.
Things are starting to come together. Sliding back into place after the whirlwind of rubix cube like activities. Hah! I shall beat you into submission. You evil plastic toy of doom.
So, when I revealed this revelation to the Group at lunch today, there was much blinking.
Grand Emperor of the Universe, All-Mighty Poo-bah: Is that like the Russian Princesses acting out an English play in France for an audience of Polish ambassadors?
Me: (squeals) [Punk Rawk], stop him! He's being himself, again!!
This week has flown by at about the speed of the Wright Bros. canary. Things could be better, but I can genuinely say that I don't really care.
Monday: My first encounter with the movie "Dr. Strangelove or How I Came to Love the Bomb". I must say, it is genius. This is coming from someone who sleeps through any movie that isn't on T.V. Now, if only the prof. we'd had would have shut up...Then I might have actually been able to catch more of the subtleties. Though, what movie that opens with B-52's having sex can't be great?
Also got to spend nearly an hour teaching a class I'm failing. Anyone else see the irony in that? What's worse is that I'm actually (probably) the only one, besides Bi-Polar, who knew what they were talking about. Whee. I got to teach a class where I pointed out which rock made a better sacrificial knife.
Tuesday: Sleep. Glorious sleep. Oh...I mean "Reading". I'm not going to prom. Fuck prom. Evil. Stupid.
Wednesday: Numbers hate me. Give me words any day. I've been putting out a ton of stories lately. My thoughts are just filled with so many characters and storylines, my pens can't keep up. Not to mention the notebook count of recent...
Hm...Maybe Prom isn't that bad of an idea. Wait. No! Must not give into teenage temptations.
Thursday: Skipped CS today. Decided sitting through a class with a woman who uses pictographs to pronounce her name to college students was asking a little much of myself. So, Punk Rawk and I nipped off to the LRC for some internet time. Ended up talking to The High as a Kite Priest for a while on AIM and discussed whoring myself to the neighbor boy for DDR. Figured that selling out to the nearest corporate stock holder was niftier. Now, I'm getting a job.
In my wonderous ponderings of English, I discovered myself. In as many ways as public decency would allow...
Numbers has decided to wage war on me and not work into anything resembling what is in the back of the book.
I bought prom tickets.
Caffine is forever my friend.