I'm curled up against the radiator listening to "Listen to Jesus, Jimmy" from Reefer Madness and very much not writing a paper about Pauline eschatology. I desperately need a shower but if I move I might puke?
Today in the dining hall there were like six tables without salt and it was becoming a bit of a situation and someone behind me went, "Goddamn it, Winchesters!"
Good story, right?
In other news there's apparently a halfhearted initiative to make this a smoke-free campus, and I'm like, Ha ha ha how about NOPE.