(no subject)
The TV History Midterm Paper has officially surpassed the Sociology 100 Final Paper in Aaron's List of Ultimate Procrastinatory Events. It's due in 11 hours, and I've yet to do shit.
Although fall break was not all lost, oh no, no, no. Today we put down for a fucking kickass house for next year, at the corner of Washtenaw and Geddes. Fuck yeah. Highlights from that endeavor:
Mr. Gruber, of Gruber Realty:
-"This is a nice house. It is not a party house. We're not lookin for them Animal House type guys."
-"You can't have any, you know, big parties or keggers. A party starts to get out of control once you have more than, say, half a dozen people."
-There is a framed picture of George W. Bush, wearing a cowboy hat and riding a horse, above his desk.
-He was dressed like Al Borland from Home Improvement.
-"There is no smoking on the premesis. If I happen to be in there to change a lightbulb or whatever, and I see a cigarette butt over in the ash tray, its a fine." (The current residents claim they were fined $400 for a single incident)
The Blue House:
-Landlord stepping over a keg to continue tour
-Landlord walks into room with half-used beer pong table, strewn trash, and randomly placed chairs, turns around, and says, with a completely straight face, "this is the dining room."
-Landlord claims nobody can live in attic because of fire regulation, resident claims its "because of the damn asbestos."
Yeah we didn't go with either of those places. Assuming all goes well, we've got a four-level, nine-bedroom (not all rooms are full, inquire within!), purple wonder of a pad with a bar in the family room and parking for around 50. And poop on that Gruber guy. He may have been raised without a childhood.
Also, the girls across the hall from me right now are lame revenge artists. I typically steal their shoes and disassemble their beds, and to get back at me, tonight, they took my mother's homemade cookies. They then proceeded to scream, from behind their locked door, "Oh, what good cookies! We're gonna eat them all!" I, knowing damn well that they are not eating, continue to lay on the floor. 15 minutes later, they leave their room and hand me the empty shoebox (that's right, my jewish mother sends me cookies in shoeboxes lined with aluminum foil), and ask me to thank her for making such wonderful cookies. I continue to lay on the floor. 15 minutes later, they re-emerge from their room with my cookies, in ziploc bags and give them to me, having grown tired of the game. I win. My cookies will now stay fresh from longer, and they have three less ziploc bags than before.
Although fall break was not all lost, oh no, no, no. Today we put down for a fucking kickass house for next year, at the corner of Washtenaw and Geddes. Fuck yeah. Highlights from that endeavor:
Mr. Gruber, of Gruber Realty:
-"This is a nice house. It is not a party house. We're not lookin for them Animal House type guys."
-"You can't have any, you know, big parties or keggers. A party starts to get out of control once you have more than, say, half a dozen people."
-There is a framed picture of George W. Bush, wearing a cowboy hat and riding a horse, above his desk.
-He was dressed like Al Borland from Home Improvement.
-"There is no smoking on the premesis. If I happen to be in there to change a lightbulb or whatever, and I see a cigarette butt over in the ash tray, its a fine." (The current residents claim they were fined $400 for a single incident)
The Blue House:
-Landlord stepping over a keg to continue tour
-Landlord walks into room with half-used beer pong table, strewn trash, and randomly placed chairs, turns around, and says, with a completely straight face, "this is the dining room."
-Landlord claims nobody can live in attic because of fire regulation, resident claims its "because of the damn asbestos."
Yeah we didn't go with either of those places. Assuming all goes well, we've got a four-level, nine-bedroom (not all rooms are full, inquire within!), purple wonder of a pad with a bar in the family room and parking for around 50. And poop on that Gruber guy. He may have been raised without a childhood.
Also, the girls across the hall from me right now are lame revenge artists. I typically steal their shoes and disassemble their beds, and to get back at me, tonight, they took my mother's homemade cookies. They then proceeded to scream, from behind their locked door, "Oh, what good cookies! We're gonna eat them all!" I, knowing damn well that they are not eating, continue to lay on the floor. 15 minutes later, they leave their room and hand me the empty shoebox (that's right, my jewish mother sends me cookies in shoeboxes lined with aluminum foil), and ask me to thank her for making such wonderful cookies. I continue to lay on the floor. 15 minutes later, they re-emerge from their room with my cookies, in ziploc bags and give them to me, having grown tired of the game. I win. My cookies will now stay fresh from longer, and they have three less ziploc bags than before.