NPDA

[xkhalipha]

NPDA was a good time. We ended up being triple-octa finalists, dropping to UC Berkeley. The loss wasn't that heartbreaking, and we did better than we were able to last year. Getting home, on the other hand, was a miserable bitch of a chore. First, the flight just drags on and on. Then when we get in to Burbank, my bag doesn't show up on the carosel. So I go to the counter to find out what is going on. The guy at the counter is either slow on the computer or just flat out fucking retarded. Perhaps he was a combo of the two, and based upon the fact that it took 12 minutes per angry flier, he was homo too. (Alright, so I would never insult the queer community by adding this piece of shit to it.) Anyway, to make this long story short, it turns out that my bag was sitting on a cart with other bags that had, as far as I could tell, been randomly pulled aside just to fuck with people. So after 30 or so minutes, I notice that *MY* bag is sitting on this cart and I claim it. What a fucking waste. Then, we get to the college and my dad picks me up and as we are pulling out of the parking lot, we get pulled over by a cop. At this point, I've been delayed over an hour getting home and the guy thinks it is cute to just 'chat' with us. He asks me what I'm doing on campus at this hour, blah blah. I'm just thinking the whole time how wonderfully venerating it would feel to smash his chipper smile with his maglight. Now I am home. Now I will sleep.

BTW, Texas can kiss my ass. Lubbock blows.
*The County Line is the exception to this rule. That place made the whole trip worth it.*