Guts
It's a feeling from the deepest parts of my intestines; something very wrong has been allowed to happen, and I feel that this is my fault. Or, at least, I'm the only person who could have done anything (Fuck towels. Don't forget to bring a flashlight). Vlad made off with a handcart full of biochemical engineering, to do with as he wishes. If his target is the Food Court in Mallinkrodt, I hope he doesn't hit the wrap station; I'd hate to have to give those up.
In other news... let's see... what other news is there? The door of the DeLorean has shut and we're all rocketing towards Graduation at 88 miles per hour; they've got us planning out our futures before we've even finished our future past. I'm fortunate that the English major, even when combined with a Writing minor, is not particularly difficult to obtain. As long as I don't fail anything, I could graduate early. Only a semester early, but it's nice to know that my hard work and planning (LOLOMGfuckingROFL) have actually expanded my options. I try to think of what I'd do with a semester to myself, and I think I'd probably commit suicide; not in the depressed or self-punitive sort of way, but only because I imagine anyone would kill me if they were trapped alone with me for four months. Thoughts? Comments?
I keep getting Facebook messages from this guy I hung out with last year, back on Beau 2.
Don't seem so surprised to learn that I had a life before Suite 3100. Not everyone finds their prime group of friends right away; even so, looking at the way this year is going with the three Dwarves (Mopey, Stocky and Russky), maybe I switched doors when I should have stayed. Fuck you, Monty Hall. Fuck you, smartest woman in the world.
Maybe I should give ol' Skimmy (the guy from Beau 2, for those of you who can't maintain multiple lines of context) a call, drive to the Steak and Shake instead of walking there (oh, being a Freshman sucked). It's not like I'm, somehow, above my Beaumont floormates, though the same is not true of those fuckers on Beau 1. I swear, if Pre-med classes and food were made available on Beau 1, nobody would ever leave, not even for a fire drill.
-Alfonzo
In other news... let's see... what other news is there? The door of the DeLorean has shut and we're all rocketing towards Graduation at 88 miles per hour; they've got us planning out our futures before we've even finished our future past. I'm fortunate that the English major, even when combined with a Writing minor, is not particularly difficult to obtain. As long as I don't fail anything, I could graduate early. Only a semester early, but it's nice to know that my hard work and planning (LOLOMGfuckingROFL) have actually expanded my options. I try to think of what I'd do with a semester to myself, and I think I'd probably commit suicide; not in the depressed or self-punitive sort of way, but only because I imagine anyone would kill me if they were trapped alone with me for four months. Thoughts? Comments?
I keep getting Facebook messages from this guy I hung out with last year, back on Beau 2.
Don't seem so surprised to learn that I had a life before Suite 3100. Not everyone finds their prime group of friends right away; even so, looking at the way this year is going with the three Dwarves (Mopey, Stocky and Russky), maybe I switched doors when I should have stayed. Fuck you, Monty Hall. Fuck you, smartest woman in the world.
Maybe I should give ol' Skimmy (the guy from Beau 2, for those of you who can't maintain multiple lines of context) a call, drive to the Steak and Shake instead of walking there (oh, being a Freshman sucked). It's not like I'm, somehow, above my Beaumont floormates, though the same is not true of those fuckers on Beau 1. I swear, if Pre-med classes and food were made available on Beau 1, nobody would ever leave, not even for a fire drill.
-Alfonzo
posted by Alfonzo Debussy | 3:49 PM
1 Comments:
Marilyn vos Savant went to WU and dropped out.
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