Ah shit.
I've been terrible about updating this lately, which is something that I don't really feel that badly about due to the fact that I've been busier than Charlie Sheen at a strip joint. Between stage managing BBM, classes, writing Oedipus and getting started on "The Goat", things are fucking crazy, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I haven't gotten more than 5 hours of sleep a night for the past two weeks, and as a result I look like I got hit with eight tons of ugly, but I'll live.
I'm sorry, Dave Matthews, but I just don't like you.
I've given up soda for the month of October for no particular reason. I've gained five pounds since getting up here and this slightly troubles me, although I can probably attribute that to Rice-a-roni at 3 AM and such. It's not a very healthy lifestyle I lead, but it IS delicious.
I may or may not be living in The Commons next year with three girls. That's kind of frightening, but at the same time, my suitemates are both cromags who eat protein shakes and belch insanely loud while showering. Friday afternoon said suitemate belched so loudly that pi momentarily became 3.15. It was hardcore.
Apologies to any Georgia folk who have tried to contact me lately. My phone service is insanely unreliable and I haven't really been able to get any calls. It's douchetastic.
I'll be able to spend fall break later this month in Chi-Town with my parents in their new apartment, which I'm very excited about. I do find it kind of sad that I'm also really excited about the fact that they have TiVO now, something that I've been lusting after forever despite having pretty much given up television since coming to college last year.
Weekends have been on and off--either drunkalicious or low-key. Thursday nights have become a mainstay for crappy movie viewings, first starting with the classic, "Rodentz", followed by an instant award-winner titled "Chopper Chicks from Zombie Town". This god-awful movie was about as comprehensible as the lyrics to a song by Radiohead, centering somehow around a bunch of Zombies unleased by a hispanic guy with a handlebar mustache and a midget (I kid you not). The anti-zombie clan was (and again, I'm not kidding here) a group of vaguely gay biker chicks in a gang called "Bike dykes". In the middle of the movie the fugliest chopper chick walked into a bar and started to gyrating to a jukebox, giving an awful rendiiton of "Do what your big momma told ya" (I'm not sure if this was an original song or if it exists outside of ass-trocious cinema, but either way, it was bad). During this musical interlude the rest of the chopper chicks got laid by both men and women. One bike dyke walked into a suburban house, saw a man laying on the couch passively watching TV, and cried out, "You don't want cable...you want coitus!" As a matter of fact, no one actually said the word "sex" in the movie--it was always referrered to as "coitus". Also, Billy Bob Thornton was in it, and that makes it that much more amazing. An instant must-see.
A couple pictorals:
From left to right, we have Vince (waving happily to incoming passerby), myself (keeping both hands on the wheel) and Neal (in the middle of a drunk dial), all peeing in synch in a semi-public place. I'm not particularly proud of this picture, but I do find it amusing.
This is an amazing facebook-worthy picture of Stephanie and I that was taken at the awkward party, which we dubbed after realizing we knew no one upon entry. For the majority of the next hour we sat on a couch and took pictures of ourselves, drinking moderate amounts of beer in between. Much fun.
I'm sorry, Dave Matthews, but I just don't like you.
I've given up soda for the month of October for no particular reason. I've gained five pounds since getting up here and this slightly troubles me, although I can probably attribute that to Rice-a-roni at 3 AM and such. It's not a very healthy lifestyle I lead, but it IS delicious.
I may or may not be living in The Commons next year with three girls. That's kind of frightening, but at the same time, my suitemates are both cromags who eat protein shakes and belch insanely loud while showering. Friday afternoon said suitemate belched so loudly that pi momentarily became 3.15. It was hardcore.
Apologies to any Georgia folk who have tried to contact me lately. My phone service is insanely unreliable and I haven't really been able to get any calls. It's douchetastic.
I'll be able to spend fall break later this month in Chi-Town with my parents in their new apartment, which I'm very excited about. I do find it kind of sad that I'm also really excited about the fact that they have TiVO now, something that I've been lusting after forever despite having pretty much given up television since coming to college last year.
Weekends have been on and off--either drunkalicious or low-key. Thursday nights have become a mainstay for crappy movie viewings, first starting with the classic, "Rodentz", followed by an instant award-winner titled "Chopper Chicks from Zombie Town". This god-awful movie was about as comprehensible as the lyrics to a song by Radiohead, centering somehow around a bunch of Zombies unleased by a hispanic guy with a handlebar mustache and a midget (I kid you not). The anti-zombie clan was (and again, I'm not kidding here) a group of vaguely gay biker chicks in a gang called "Bike dykes". In the middle of the movie the fugliest chopper chick walked into a bar and started to gyrating to a jukebox, giving an awful rendiiton of "Do what your big momma told ya" (I'm not sure if this was an original song or if it exists outside of ass-trocious cinema, but either way, it was bad). During this musical interlude the rest of the chopper chicks got laid by both men and women. One bike dyke walked into a suburban house, saw a man laying on the couch passively watching TV, and cried out, "You don't want cable...you want coitus!" As a matter of fact, no one actually said the word "sex" in the movie--it was always referrered to as "coitus". Also, Billy Bob Thornton was in it, and that makes it that much more amazing. An instant must-see.
A couple pictorals:
From left to right, we have Vince (waving happily to incoming passerby), myself (keeping both hands on the wheel) and Neal (in the middle of a drunk dial), all peeing in synch in a semi-public place. I'm not particularly proud of this picture, but I do find it amusing.
This is an amazing facebook-worthy picture of Stephanie and I that was taken at the awkward party, which we dubbed after realizing we knew no one upon entry. For the majority of the next hour we sat on a couch and took pictures of ourselves, drinking moderate amounts of beer in between. Much fun.