Today was the most
Today was the most awesomest Thursday ever because I decided to go on an adventure to cut my hair, and some sidewalk lady on the way was like "Praise Jesus" and I replied "Glory Be" and then I went to lunch in the D-hall where someone was like "Hey, Shane" and I looked confused, having no idea who he was.
Then some random lady called me and was like "Several people suggested I call you about a web design" so I googled her and discovered she did not exist, which is pretty fucking strange. Then a friend asked me on a date, and it was like unexpected because I've known her for a few years and this is the first interlude that she's suggested, but I was like "Whatev sure, Babycakes," although, in addressing her as such, I disappointed her.
I attended a cool lecture on a trip to Antarctica then some chick at Andy's had a cow grazing on her loins, and the drinks took 4-ever, and I pondered the pageantry of curriculum and sempiternal injustice. As a self-proclaimed reader of signals I was living a movie from 1993 or a better one from 2001, and consider Grindhouse a promising alternative.
I know this girl who mimics P. Hilton with the little head-to-raised-shoulder gesture and each time she performs this supposedly cute feat I think how horrible it is, her world of make-believe, because it precludes any sincerity that I might try to contribute. For camping in my apartment the past month my electric bill plummeted from $210 to $45. Amazing, yo.
Then some random lady called me and was like "Several people suggested I call you about a web design" so I googled her and discovered she did not exist, which is pretty fucking strange. Then a friend asked me on a date, and it was like unexpected because I've known her for a few years and this is the first interlude that she's suggested, but I was like "Whatev sure, Babycakes," although, in addressing her as such, I disappointed her.
I attended a cool lecture on a trip to Antarctica then some chick at Andy's had a cow grazing on her loins, and the drinks took 4-ever, and I pondered the pageantry of curriculum and sempiternal injustice. As a self-proclaimed reader of signals I was living a movie from 1993 or a better one from 2001, and consider Grindhouse a promising alternative.
I know this girl who mimics P. Hilton with the little head-to-raised-shoulder gesture and each time she performs this supposedly cute feat I think how horrible it is, her world of make-believe, because it precludes any sincerity that I might try to contribute. For camping in my apartment the past month my electric bill plummeted from $210 to $45. Amazing, yo.