Roommate Hate.
After careful study, lab analysis and observation, I've determined that Seth listens to three songs, and three songs only. They are:
-Queen's "We are the Champions" (aforementioned)
-The Rolling Stones, "I Can't Get No Satisfaction" (appropriate)
-Jimi Hendrix, "That 'excuse me while I touch the sky' song that they use in every fucking movie ever about Vietnam"
Seth chews loudly and drinks constantly from a water bottle with a built-in straw that makes a loud, unsettling sucking sound every time he takes a gulp from it. He sweats awkward. I expect that one of these days I'll wake up in a bathtub with a kidney missing and a used condom nearby, with Seth's scent still lingering in the air mixed with cloroform, but thankfully, not yet. It would be too harsh to say that I hate Seth, because I don't. Suffice to say, though, that given the opportunity to club Seth in the face with a wiffle ball bat so violently and quickly that he'd forget all memory of me being the attacker, I would take it. On a related note, I'll be living in The Commons next year with three girls, two of which are theatre majors and a third who is an art major with obsessive-compulsive disorder. The latter, Christine, spent a good half hour at D-Hall eating a bowl of dry Lucky Charms, concentrating on the grain morsels first, then set about separating the marshmallows into categories (blue diamonds, red balloons, etc.), then ate them one at at time to maintain culinary order. Next year is going to be fun.
It figures that just as soon as I discover a TV show that's halfway decent and likeable--"Arrested Development"--FOX cancels it faster than a baby at a planned parenthood center. The fact that they're putting shit like "American Idol" and "COPS" still on the air but not a show that features Europe's "The Final Countdown" as background music during every three episodes is a violent injustice. Then again, this is coming from a guy who gets slightly erect upon hearing the "Walker, Texas Ranger" theme music. I have justification for that- here’s a perfect example.
By stroke of luck and a halfway decent audition, I landed one of the three main guy leads in "How to Succeed". The part, Frump, is a weasely little shithead who antagonizes the likeable main character. I haven't played an asshole in a really long time (well, onstage, at least), and I'm looking forward to strapping on the singing shoes again. I pride myself on the fact that I'm the only non-musical theatre major to land a lead, but at the same time that makes me grow a big rubbery one. Brookwood was one thing--some of these people in the show are amazing. Tom made an announcement in Oedipus today that anyone in the musical would still be allowed to audition for Oedipus. Brynn later pointed out that I'm the ONLY person in the Oedipus class even slightly involved in the show, and Tom was more or less speaking directly to me. Snoogans.
This weekend shall bear witness to Dan and I's joint birthday party, taking place in Pheasant Run. Dan will be turning 21 on saturday, while I'll be turning 20 on saturday. Neither of us plan on remembering the majority of the night, but I'm insisting that several people take pictures throughout the night, no matter how incriminating they are. It shall be scrumtrulescent, as our (ultra-gay) facebook party announcement reads.
Parts 1-12 of R.Kelly's "Trapped in the Closet" are now my property. I'm obsessed. I'm also obsessed with "In the Kitchen" (a completely unsubtle song about having butt sex in the kitchen 'by the butter rolls'), where R.Kelly croons during the climax of the song (so to speak) "Girl, I'm ready to toss yo salad!". Priceless. Also worth commenting on is Randy Newman's "Short People", a very derogatory song about midgets. Also priceless.
I'm looking forward to going home for thanksgiving. I'll be spending a good 24 hours in Georgia (probably for the last time in a really good while), and another 48're so at the Klein's wedding. It'll be a packed week, but a good one nonetheless.
-Queen's "We are the Champions" (aforementioned)
-The Rolling Stones, "I Can't Get No Satisfaction" (appropriate)
-Jimi Hendrix, "That 'excuse me while I touch the sky' song that they use in every fucking movie ever about Vietnam"
Seth chews loudly and drinks constantly from a water bottle with a built-in straw that makes a loud, unsettling sucking sound every time he takes a gulp from it. He sweats awkward. I expect that one of these days I'll wake up in a bathtub with a kidney missing and a used condom nearby, with Seth's scent still lingering in the air mixed with cloroform, but thankfully, not yet. It would be too harsh to say that I hate Seth, because I don't. Suffice to say, though, that given the opportunity to club Seth in the face with a wiffle ball bat so violently and quickly that he'd forget all memory of me being the attacker, I would take it. On a related note, I'll be living in The Commons next year with three girls, two of which are theatre majors and a third who is an art major with obsessive-compulsive disorder. The latter, Christine, spent a good half hour at D-Hall eating a bowl of dry Lucky Charms, concentrating on the grain morsels first, then set about separating the marshmallows into categories (blue diamonds, red balloons, etc.), then ate them one at at time to maintain culinary order. Next year is going to be fun.
It figures that just as soon as I discover a TV show that's halfway decent and likeable--"Arrested Development"--FOX cancels it faster than a baby at a planned parenthood center. The fact that they're putting shit like "American Idol" and "COPS" still on the air but not a show that features Europe's "The Final Countdown" as background music during every three episodes is a violent injustice. Then again, this is coming from a guy who gets slightly erect upon hearing the "Walker, Texas Ranger" theme music. I have justification for that- here’s a perfect example.
By stroke of luck and a halfway decent audition, I landed one of the three main guy leads in "How to Succeed". The part, Frump, is a weasely little shithead who antagonizes the likeable main character. I haven't played an asshole in a really long time (well, onstage, at least), and I'm looking forward to strapping on the singing shoes again. I pride myself on the fact that I'm the only non-musical theatre major to land a lead, but at the same time that makes me grow a big rubbery one. Brookwood was one thing--some of these people in the show are amazing. Tom made an announcement in Oedipus today that anyone in the musical would still be allowed to audition for Oedipus. Brynn later pointed out that I'm the ONLY person in the Oedipus class even slightly involved in the show, and Tom was more or less speaking directly to me. Snoogans.
This weekend shall bear witness to Dan and I's joint birthday party, taking place in Pheasant Run. Dan will be turning 21 on saturday, while I'll be turning 20 on saturday. Neither of us plan on remembering the majority of the night, but I'm insisting that several people take pictures throughout the night, no matter how incriminating they are. It shall be scrumtrulescent, as our (ultra-gay) facebook party announcement reads.
Parts 1-12 of R.Kelly's "Trapped in the Closet" are now my property. I'm obsessed. I'm also obsessed with "In the Kitchen" (a completely unsubtle song about having butt sex in the kitchen 'by the butter rolls'), where R.Kelly croons during the climax of the song (so to speak) "Girl, I'm ready to toss yo salad!". Priceless. Also worth commenting on is Randy Newman's "Short People", a very derogatory song about midgets. Also priceless.
I'm looking forward to going home for thanksgiving. I'll be spending a good 24 hours in Georgia (probably for the last time in a really good while), and another 48're so at the Klein's wedding. It'll be a packed week, but a good one nonetheless.