Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Dear Music, what?

Sometimes, I feel old.

This in itself is kind of hilarious as I’m only 21. I volunteer with SIFE at my university and we develop programs that help the community and have various projects. For the most part, it’s usually a fun time. They sent me to California in the middle of October which was pretty fandangledly rad.

A few days ago, one of the people sent me a message asking for help on one of the projects I help run and I agreed because it was a reason for me not to go to one of my math classes which is pretty early and horrible.

The project was essentially teaching 6th graders how to budget and we turned it into a fun game where they’re given money and have to pay bills and such. I was in charge of getting them to buy the crap they don’t need, such as candy.Mwhahaha.

Anyway, we finished the game and they all were let out for recess and I was thinking, what the hell do kids these days do for recess? We walked passed the gym and they had loud, bass-y techno blasting and were having some sort of a dance shin-dig. I then noticed half of the kids texting with iPhones.

My initial thought:

Yeah. I didn’t think. My brain was stuck in this image

When I was in sixth grade, I didn’t own a phone and we played TV initials.

TV initials is where five or six people stand against a wall and one person is about ten feet away and you give one initial of a TV show or a band and the first person to run up and guess it (you have to touch their hand first, though!). We didn’t have dance parties. Hell, we weren’t allowed to dance with other people

I also realize I’m almost double the age of some popstars that have more money than me, most which are in middle school and still have curfews. I know the majority of you just thought of that atrocity of a song by Rebecca Black.

Yeah, no. It’s not Friday, or Fryday.

This song is about fucking jeans.

Seriously.

What

The

Fuck.

The whole video is her singing about some celebrity having similar jeans, and she sounds like t-pain, but like twelve years old. She doesn’t know what to wear. Clothes would be a great idea, lady.

Majority of the video, she’s wearing a skirt. Does she have a community pair of jeans?

She should really wait til she’s eighteen before she lets people make use of her community jeans.

A, B, C

1, 2, 3

That girl wore her jeans like me

I bet she’s mad

‘cuz I look fat (?)

Ha-ha-ha

Jack my swag?!

Englightening.

HOW ELSE DO YOU WEAR YOUR JEANS? ON YOUR FACE?! THIS ISN’T EVEN ENGLISH. I WANT MY 4:01 MINUTES OF MY LIFE BACK. NAO.

Hokay. I’m done. I’m never reproducing, ever.

Hope I made you laugh!

Cheers.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Sometimes, being a social butterfly isn't a good idea.


This is just a short little posting, primarily due to the fact that I'm very busy with school lately, plus I'm way busy trying to find a new place to live because my current living situation reminds me of a whorehouse and a circus combined with a tiny ass kitchen.

Essentially I live with three other people, and they’re not too bad. I make one of ‘em laugh sometimes with my stupid tangents and I don’t really talk to the other one but whatever, not talking is better then stabbing them in the face for not shutting up.

Now, the third one, is basically a bro but about ninety pounds and 5’11. The broad doesn’t do dishes, she lives on messy shit that sticks to my fucking baking pan such as pizza and sugar-based-sauce-things. As anyone knows, when sugar melts into a pan, it’s a hell of a time to get that stickyness off. You’re suppose to soak it in warm water. Guess who has never done that and now there’s a permanent layer of stickyness on her 15$ pan? Yeah. Never buying another pan for this house ever again.

Essentially, the other night I was talking to my best friend back home at like, two AM because he figured who else would he call while waiting for the pink panther cartoon to come on television? Regardless I didn’t mind because he and myself are aware I have the sleep pattern of a narcoleptic crackhead. Soon enough I was ranting on the phone about my living situation because my friend had been complaining about his. I primarily went on about how she incessantly has her boyfriend over overnight, which doesn’t bug me, it’s the fact he’s in my house more then I am and he’s already caused the microwave to explode with popcorn. Very loudly. She may have heard it. Annnnnywho, I’m out of this place in April/May, so soon enough I won’t have to deal with their constant banging, shouting and videogame playing. By the way, all of this usually happens at about six AM.

TWO HOURS BEFORE I NEED TO WAKE UP.

In other news, not a whole hell of a lot is going on. I’m stuck in Summer school for Anatomy and Physiology apparently because I’m basically braindead, er that’s what my family said. Plus side is I can visit home for the last time in three years in June for about a month and some days.

Today, I was hanging out in the mingling area in the university with my laptop because I hate the campus desktop rooms. This guy in his probable 40’s asks me at random “Hey, do you have any extra time so you can make some money on the computer?”

Of course my broke ass was like “O rly. Maybe. What do you need done?” figuring he needed my computer to write an email or something.

Yeah, no.

He asks me to post an ad for him on the local ad database, which was fine to me because I figured he wanted to get rid of some old clothes or something.

Again. Yeah, no.

He asked me to post he was selling a “recently bought” queen size mattress and box spring for $350..............and there’s blood on both of them and will consider trades for a smaller bed

He then asked me what I’m taking in school and I said psychiatric nursing and he goes “Oh, I’d make a good psych nurse. I use to be a patient.”

WWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-------

Anyway, I posted the ad and didn’t bother to ask why there was blood on this mattress that was just recently purchased. Creepy.

Cheers.

Friday, March 4, 2011

University sucks...in March.


It's that time of year again.

No, it's not Christmas. It's March. From an academic standpoint, March is the one month out of the year where being a student sucks. It's academic rape. Most students can deal with April. Sure, you have a few exams, maybe a paper due in April. However, after April twenty-something you can sleep/drinkyoursorrowsaway/get your significant other back because you dumped them after you got that shitty mark on that one paper back but now you're totally "willing to make it work". ....for the summer.

No matter what program you are in, you cannot win. Your major could be fucking basket weaving and you'll still have to weave fifty-two baskets. Academic institutions know you're going to procrastinate whether you're eighteen or fifty-eight. In turn, they do the procrastinating for you and place due dates at the end of the year, which is March.

In the past week and a half, I have been sleeping on average of three to five hours a night and my weekend is going to consist of giving out free samples of spinach salad and fruit and writing out twenty-five pages of papers and 2 pages of math and studying for three exams I have in a week and a half. In two weeks I have two more four page journals due and a self analysis page thing to convince my interpersonal communication professor not to fail me.

In time of stress it's best to talk to friends. I have three. Two of which are busy with their own classes. I found so far, when I talk to the last person, a literal shitstorm of stress. He called the other night to talk and at that point I had been awake for two and a half days and living on pringles and energy drinks. Almost immediately, like as soon as I recognized the voice, I began to rant about interpersonal communication and how it is unfair you cannot take things you say back and how unfair it is that communication can be almost as detrimental to a relationship as not communicating at all.

The irony of this hurts me too.

Oh yeah, did I mention I said all of this to my ex-last relationship?

Yes, communicating on how much communicating deteriorates communication skills.

Anyway, In terms of things that are going on in my end of the woods – there isn’t really much of anything. Primarily because I’m up to my eyeballs in anatomy and physiology and there is no sight of end in these fuckin’ woods.

In the last three weeks my anatomy professor has talked about 1. Drinking piss 2. coprophagia 3. Sheep skin condoms. In depth.

Also, I may be stuck in Manitoba for the summer.

Cheers.