What? I have a blog? Oh, shit!
I bet you're all wondering what happened to your great and glorious leader, and why he hasn't updated this scripture of divine widom for at least a month or so. I know what you all must have been doing in that time period, bereft of my deep and meaningful words- rending your garments as you sob, vomiting uncontrollably as your life loses all perspective, drinking yourself into a miasma of self-destruction... Actually, come to think of it, all the people that read my blog do that all the time, so I don't really know where the hell I'm going with this.
Truth is, I forgot I had a blog. Why, you may ask? Because this goddamn semester is almost over and all willpower and reason has been slowly sucked out me like an industrial-strength liposuction machine. I mean, right now, my clock is ten hours off. Why haven't I fixed it yet? Because I'm feeling TOO LAZY TO OPERATE A CLOCK. And holy crap, if you really want to open a can of worms, ask me about my laundry. I am always expecting for the federal government to break down my door wearing hazmat suits, sieze my basket, fly it out to some desolate part of the desert in Nevada, and detonate it with a six megaton blast. I would only object if they wouldn't let me watch the explosion. They should probably take Derek with them, that guy only showers like every other week. All he's had in there for the last month or so is an empty bottle of shampoo and a single bar of soap.
The weather is no help. I firmly believe God has fallen asleep at the controls with his forehead resting on the RAIN A FUCKING SHITLOAD button, or maybe He set his coffee on it or something. After just trudging through it all the first two days I eventually found myself fishing an umbrella out of a goddamn garbage can. I also found a reasonably nice pair of shoes a good hair brush and half an eclair someone threw away. You know, you can really find some nice stuff in the trash. For instance, in New York, people regularly find babies in there. Isn't that something?
I'm still fighting the ongoing fight of fixing my knees. If you know me, and you'll know if you do by the intense headache you sometimes get right behind your eyes, you'll have learned that I have iliotibial band syndrome. This basically means that the tendon running from my asscheek to my kneecap is too tight from lack of stretching, which results in my kneecap being pulled across the bone diagonally. And hooray, it feels even worse than it sounds. The way I'm fixing this is by stretching about 3 times a day. Unfortunately the best stretch makes it look like I'm standing around uncomfortable like I have something large and awkward shoved up my ass, like a Mr. Coffee or a CD rack. This attracts a lot of attention at the gym, especially from the gay dudes, who are always sending me "I've been there, buddy" looks along with flowers and scented cards.
And here's the worst part of everything.
We have LOST the remote.
Gone. Poof. Vanished.
This might sound like nothing to most of you, but among us, that's like saying "I lost my three month old child when we were in the meat rendering plant." Our lives now lack center and meaning, as we can no longer efficiently see exactly how much crap is on the 700 channels we get. I look forward to going home not because I miss my family, but because I miss being able to spend hours of my life entertained from a prone position while moving nothing more than my heart, lungs, and thumb. The going is tough. Our deep strife is not unlike that of the persecuted Jews during World War II.
And oh yeah, the election. Who won that? I still haven't checked.
Truth is, I forgot I had a blog. Why, you may ask? Because this goddamn semester is almost over and all willpower and reason has been slowly sucked out me like an industrial-strength liposuction machine. I mean, right now, my clock is ten hours off. Why haven't I fixed it yet? Because I'm feeling TOO LAZY TO OPERATE A CLOCK. And holy crap, if you really want to open a can of worms, ask me about my laundry. I am always expecting for the federal government to break down my door wearing hazmat suits, sieze my basket, fly it out to some desolate part of the desert in Nevada, and detonate it with a six megaton blast. I would only object if they wouldn't let me watch the explosion. They should probably take Derek with them, that guy only showers like every other week. All he's had in there for the last month or so is an empty bottle of shampoo and a single bar of soap.
The weather is no help. I firmly believe God has fallen asleep at the controls with his forehead resting on the RAIN A FUCKING SHITLOAD button, or maybe He set his coffee on it or something. After just trudging through it all the first two days I eventually found myself fishing an umbrella out of a goddamn garbage can. I also found a reasonably nice pair of shoes a good hair brush and half an eclair someone threw away. You know, you can really find some nice stuff in the trash. For instance, in New York, people regularly find babies in there. Isn't that something?
I'm still fighting the ongoing fight of fixing my knees. If you know me, and you'll know if you do by the intense headache you sometimes get right behind your eyes, you'll have learned that I have iliotibial band syndrome. This basically means that the tendon running from my asscheek to my kneecap is too tight from lack of stretching, which results in my kneecap being pulled across the bone diagonally. And hooray, it feels even worse than it sounds. The way I'm fixing this is by stretching about 3 times a day. Unfortunately the best stretch makes it look like I'm standing around uncomfortable like I have something large and awkward shoved up my ass, like a Mr. Coffee or a CD rack. This attracts a lot of attention at the gym, especially from the gay dudes, who are always sending me "I've been there, buddy" looks along with flowers and scented cards.
And here's the worst part of everything.
We have LOST the remote.
Gone. Poof. Vanished.
This might sound like nothing to most of you, but among us, that's like saying "I lost my three month old child when we were in the meat rendering plant." Our lives now lack center and meaning, as we can no longer efficiently see exactly how much crap is on the 700 channels we get. I look forward to going home not because I miss my family, but because I miss being able to spend hours of my life entertained from a prone position while moving nothing more than my heart, lungs, and thumb. The going is tough. Our deep strife is not unlike that of the persecuted Jews during World War II.
And oh yeah, the election. Who won that? I still haven't checked.
posted by Robert at 4:27 PM
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