Thank me no thankings nor proud me no prouds
But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next
to go with Paris to Saint Peters Church.
Those are some of my lines from my Shakespeare final. It's a lot of fun. Acting. I get to be real angry and pretty much hit Capulet's Wife and Juliet. I get to yell. I get to shout. I get to mock and demean and pretty much do what I do anyway.
Today was my last London in Literature class. We had read _Keep the Aspidistra Flying_, or at least we were supposed to. I didn't get to finish the thing because I've got so much going on, but I got the jist. Capitalism bad, equality good. Que profundis! Anyway, for our excursion we went up north to Hampstead. It seems that north London really is 'where it's at'. It's got trees, meadows ("the heath"), fresh air, quiet, and cool pubs. The one we went in was all HARDCORE drinkers and locals listening to Norah Jones with little-to-no patience for Americans. Err.. not Americans really, just people under 75.
So...
I started work on a brand new Power Hour compilation for Winter Break. I know this is not a good use of my time, but I had been working all day, and this is a good way for me to wind down. Featured on this as-of-yet-unnamed CD: Thin Lizzy, Stabbing Westward, Ferry Corsten, Prince, Reverend Al Green, Ma$e, Deadeye Dick, G. Love, Calloway, and Leonard Bernstein to name a few. Should be as good as, if not better than POWER HOUR '01: ROLLING BLACKOUTS, which sustained Johnny Wilmot, BJ, Nick, Spencer Ash, and I during Senior Week. "What is Power Hour?" you say? Well, I'm glad you asked:
Power Hour is a social drinking activity (not a game) in which participants imbibe 1.5 ounces of beer (a "shot") every minute for one hour. Musical supplements with each song truncated at the :59 mark are common. Playing along to the Prevue Guide Channel (you hipsters now know it as the "TV Guide" channel) is just sad. Variations include The Century Club and JACK BAUER's HOUR OF POWER played to Fox's real-time action/drama 24.
Tomorrow morning I am going to the library to finish my research on my medieval lit project. I am studying the Prioress Tale in _The Canterbury Tales_. It's a really anti-semitic piece of trash that may or may not have been satirizing anti-Semites, but it's hard to tell. I've got a manuscript made for Henry V in the Harleian Catalogues that is packaged with a guy named Lingate's life of Mary in 4 books and some other Mariolatry stuff. Some of it is pretty and some of it is ugly. Hard to say what I'm going to write about exactly, but at least I'm interested.
When I get home I get to have an interview with the DOD about my roommate Greg Landrum. He's working for Naval Inteligence or something, so they're running a background check. This is the opportunity I have been waiting for ever since he pissed on my bed. Revenge, Monte Cristo-style. I plan on using the word "reefer" and the phrase "sic semper tyrannus" as much as I can.
My mom is forcing me to make a Chistmas list. Here's a preliminary version of the book section, just for educational purposes:
BOOKS:
AMERICAN BRUTUS by Michael Kauffman
33 1/3 SERIES: LET IT BE by Colin Meloy
SO YOU WANNA BE A ROCK & ROLL STAR: HOW I MACHINE GUNNED A ROOM FULL OF RECORD EXECUTIVES AND OTHER TALES FROM A DRUMMERS LIFE by Jacob Slichter
That is all for now, friends. Let's play CLUE:
MR. WHITE in the
NATIONAL GALLERY with the
GRAPHITE DRUM STICKS
to go with Paris to Saint Peters Church.
Those are some of my lines from my Shakespeare final. It's a lot of fun. Acting. I get to be real angry and pretty much hit Capulet's Wife and Juliet. I get to yell. I get to shout. I get to mock and demean and pretty much do what I do anyway.
Today was my last London in Literature class. We had read _Keep the Aspidistra Flying_, or at least we were supposed to. I didn't get to finish the thing because I've got so much going on, but I got the jist. Capitalism bad, equality good. Que profundis! Anyway, for our excursion we went up north to Hampstead. It seems that north London really is 'where it's at'. It's got trees, meadows ("the heath"), fresh air, quiet, and cool pubs. The one we went in was all HARDCORE drinkers and locals listening to Norah Jones with little-to-no patience for Americans. Err.. not Americans really, just people under 75.
So...
I started work on a brand new Power Hour compilation for Winter Break. I know this is not a good use of my time, but I had been working all day, and this is a good way for me to wind down. Featured on this as-of-yet-unnamed CD: Thin Lizzy, Stabbing Westward, Ferry Corsten, Prince, Reverend Al Green, Ma$e, Deadeye Dick, G. Love, Calloway, and Leonard Bernstein to name a few. Should be as good as, if not better than POWER HOUR '01: ROLLING BLACKOUTS, which sustained Johnny Wilmot, BJ, Nick, Spencer Ash, and I during Senior Week. "What is Power Hour?" you say? Well, I'm glad you asked:
Power Hour is a social drinking activity (not a game) in which participants imbibe 1.5 ounces of beer (a "shot") every minute for one hour. Musical supplements with each song truncated at the :59 mark are common. Playing along to the Prevue Guide Channel (you hipsters now know it as the "TV Guide" channel) is just sad. Variations include The Century Club and JACK BAUER's HOUR OF POWER played to Fox's real-time action/drama 24.
Tomorrow morning I am going to the library to finish my research on my medieval lit project. I am studying the Prioress Tale in _The Canterbury Tales_. It's a really anti-semitic piece of trash that may or may not have been satirizing anti-Semites, but it's hard to tell. I've got a manuscript made for Henry V in the Harleian Catalogues that is packaged with a guy named Lingate's life of Mary in 4 books and some other Mariolatry stuff. Some of it is pretty and some of it is ugly. Hard to say what I'm going to write about exactly, but at least I'm interested.
When I get home I get to have an interview with the DOD about my roommate Greg Landrum. He's working for Naval Inteligence or something, so they're running a background check. This is the opportunity I have been waiting for ever since he pissed on my bed. Revenge, Monte Cristo-style. I plan on using the word "reefer" and the phrase "sic semper tyrannus" as much as I can.
My mom is forcing me to make a Chistmas list. Here's a preliminary version of the book section, just for educational purposes:
BOOKS:
AMERICAN BRUTUS by Michael Kauffman
33 1/3 SERIES: LET IT BE by Colin Meloy
SO YOU WANNA BE A ROCK & ROLL STAR: HOW I MACHINE GUNNED A ROOM FULL OF RECORD EXECUTIVES AND OTHER TALES FROM A DRUMMERS LIFE by Jacob Slichter
That is all for now, friends. Let's play CLUE:
MR. WHITE in the
NATIONAL GALLERY with the
GRAPHITE DRUM STICKS