Liveblogging My Life: Friday, April 17th, 2008

18 Apr

9:16 am:

I wake up to find that it is 9:16. I have no time for coffee, cereal, or pants.

9:27 am:

I’m on the bus. When I step on board, I immediately look at the driver, a surly old chap with a lovely tattoo on his arm of a naked woman riding a flaming snake, and say “Uh-oh! Looks like we’re in for some trouble with this rascal behind the wheel! Right everyone?” I was at this point, the only person on the bus. The bus driver turned to me and lifted up his shirt. He had a gun. I sat down and said nothing else for the rest of the trip.

9:43 am:

Mmm… campus. I love campus. So much learning, so much youthful exuberance and joy. I see a man preaching in the “Free Speech Zone.” He looks like if somebody took Al from Home Improvement and dried him in the hot desert sun. He’s like an Al-Raisin. I walk up to this leather-faced, bearded evangelical and hold out my hand for a high five, beckoning him to raise his hand. As soon as he does, I drop mine and yell “Who’s secretly Jewish?!” I got him so good. He shoved me and I said nasty words.

10:00 am:

I’m in my American Literature class. Hemingway ‘n shit.

10:18 am:

The guy sitting in front of me has fallen asleep. I need to prank him. But how? I briefly pause my 18-minute speech on the moral implications of Hemingway’s having a big bushy beard to consider this. The teacher then hesitantly begins to speak. I raise one finger in the air, covering my mouth with my free hand in a thoughtful pose that would later be painted by the creepy mouth breather that sits 2 rows over. I then insert my finger into my mouth, wetting it thoroughly. I lean forwards, scoping out his ear. Slowly I raise my hand above him, then, as fast as I can, I ball up my fist and punch him square in the temple. “GOT YOU WITH MY LIT HAND!” I say, proudly. I am proud of my lit hand.

1:10 pm

I am out and about in a dorm cafeteria. Kerr Hall, in fact. A lot of people think dorm food is bad. I disagree. I love it. I love the chicken patty/meat sponge. I also l0ve to chomp down on the salisbury steak/pork chop. Oh! but my favorite food they serve is lasagna/stapler.

8:36 am, April 17th, 2000

HOLY SHIT TIME PARADOX! There are so many things I need to warn myself about. Don’t see Date Movie! Don’t quit playing piano. It’s way cooler than guitar and believe me, you don’t have a surplus of cool to throw around in your later years. One more thing: your hair! The giant curly hair! It didn’t really look that cool. It was just kind of ok. Quirky at best. Almost helmet-like. Oh yea, and it’s time to dump your AIG stock. ALL of it.

6:15 pm, April 17th, 2008

I’m working out with Josh now. He’s mad because I brought all my gym clothes with me in my car and, after seeing what Josh was wearing, picked out the outfit that most resembled his. He keeps getting angry at me when I refer to our outfits as “uniforms.” They are uniforms. They are.

God, it is hot in this room. It feels like I’m blogging in a fucking Korean jungle, like grandpa did (Please see “Liveblogging My Life: March 4, 1951; Huntin’ Charlie”–my grandfather’s old blog.).

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