Recco!
I'm probably late to a bunch of parties on this but Platinum Grit is what I am doing between trying to study for chemistry, and it is the best webcomic I've read in the past year or so and besides that, it's actually good. I mean, I could go on about site design and page layout and characterization, plot developments and such but no one wants me to fail my midterm, right? Believe it or not there's an actual, honest to god story, and it's not forced. I know, I wouldn't believe me either. What can I say, I'm a sucker for absurd polyamory. I feel like reading it was a lot more important than really reviewing my redox reactions - in some sense it is almost a manipulative feeling. Perhaps you, too, will feel this great wind of meaning blow through your life.
Other news - I got completely trashed on Friday. Vitali is not a good drink, my friends, it is as cruel to men's wit as it is charitable to their spirits. Then we went to IHOP with a cane and a wheelchair. Maintaining reason was difficult, and spilling water all on my friend's crotch definitely presented obstacles to the whole composure in public idea. In the face of these tribulations, I believe we endured with dignity mostly intact. I'm definitely at this point upset about the Blueberry Girl Situation. I guess I don't need to explain that I met a cute girl with whom blueberry pancakes were shared, but I just did. I don't want to deal with this right at the moment, because throughout most of my interaction with her that evening I was at least 10 and possibly 17 shots deep. This deeply unflattering confession also places my ability to blame the world and others for my illness square in the shitkicker.
It's time to do...more chemistry. Remember, kids: responsibility is the true madness.
Other news - I got completely trashed on Friday. Vitali is not a good drink, my friends, it is as cruel to men's wit as it is charitable to their spirits. Then we went to IHOP with a cane and a wheelchair. Maintaining reason was difficult, and spilling water all on my friend's crotch definitely presented obstacles to the whole composure in public idea. In the face of these tribulations, I believe we endured with dignity mostly intact. I'm definitely at this point upset about the Blueberry Girl Situation. I guess I don't need to explain that I met a cute girl with whom blueberry pancakes were shared, but I just did. I don't want to deal with this right at the moment, because throughout most of my interaction with her that evening I was at least 10 and possibly 17 shots deep. This deeply unflattering confession also places my ability to blame the world and others for my illness square in the shitkicker.
It's time to do...more chemistry. Remember, kids: responsibility is the true madness.