Ever.
Peace, Love, and Dwarf Hamsters.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Before Leaving a Burning Building
Really dorm life cannot be any worse...
From roommates with weird wall hangings, and community showers, I now also must risk my own safety in the event of a fire to be NOT eco friendly? WTF?!
According to the poster that is outside the lobby elevator (which I'm pretty sure is handwritten and from 1865) I am supposed to do 5 things before leaving a BUILDING THAT IS ON FUCKING FIRE.
1. The first and most logical step when the place you live is on fire: Turn on the lights. Really? That is my first concern when shit starts exploding. Maybe I should be able to see the flames before they engulf me. And how is that eco-friendly at all? At least if the building burns down, everyone will take the power company for all they're worth in the last 12 seconds? WTF Evangeline Hall....
2. Close those pesky windows and open the blinds. That way, if by the time you've completed the task list you aren't a pile of ash, you can watch your clothes, mini-refridgerators, and hundreds of dollars worth of text books burn to a crisp.
3. Now before you leave, you should close the door, that way any magical, flame-retardent thieves don't spy your room for easy pickings. But don't lock it. After all, the magical-flame-retardent-thieves aren't immune to collapsing buildings, so we want them in and out of there as quick as possible (to be as humanitarian as possible).
4. Walk quickly to the correct exit. Do not run...? ARE YOU JOKING?! THE BUILDING IS LITERALLY ON FIRE. I've never had a better excuse to run in my fucking life.
5. Make a U-turn (thank God you didn't lock the door). You have to ditch the flip flops and put on some sensible footwear! After all, a fire is not an excuse for open-toed shoes. You also should, rather inexplicably, bring a bath towel. I guess that all the other shit is replaceable, but a bath towel has many uses and is for some reason, irreplaceable.
6. Don't talk. Fire is much like a ghost. If you acknowledge it, it only fucks shit up quicker.
(This is also the step where they tell you what to do with your bath towel and tennis shoes... I smell a fun group activity!!!)
7. Don't go back into the building... NO SHIT, SHERLOCK. IT'S ON FIRE.
On a side-note:
I feel obligated to share what the awkward pair to my left in the aforementioned dormitory's lobby is saying. A few favorite one liners (I added my own internal dialogue in italics).
Boy: Do you feel differently about me? Knowing that I smoke. (No, shit-tarde. She just told you her grampa died from lung-cancer. She thinks smoking is A-Okay!)
Girl: My favorite position is the fetal position. (Yeah... Sure it is)
Girl: (On Mexico) It felt like we were in another country. Wait. I know it was another country. Like another city. (Really... Really?)
Boy: Where do you put it all (out of context, that is totally hilarious and dirty)
Boy: You should play lacrosse (What.the.fuck. Who taught you how to talk to girls)
Girl: My batting average was super high (You sound super high. And super dumb)
Boy: I'm pretty good at the flute (This was a completely unrequested piece of information. Followed by an awkward silence.)
Boy: (In a high pitched voice) Get your ass over hear, Sugar (Again I refuse to share the context, because it is so much fucking funnier this way)
^This is when I audibly laughed and decided I should stop^
*Ahhhh.... Awkward meetings. The best.
On a Side-Note AGAIN:
Awkward boy just asked me for my ID card so he could swipe it in our high security elevator (Apparently you have to have some serious CIA clearance to get to the fifth floor of Evangeline Hall). I gave it to him and asked him if he would close my door in the event of a fire. He nodded.
Peace, Love, and Burning Alive.
From roommates with weird wall hangings, and community showers, I now also must risk my own safety in the event of a fire to be NOT eco friendly? WTF?!
According to the poster that is outside the lobby elevator (which I'm pretty sure is handwritten and from 1865) I am supposed to do 5 things before leaving a BUILDING THAT IS ON FUCKING FIRE.
 |
| Apparently they had enough foresight to know the invention and location of future elevators. Bravo 1865 calligraphist. |
1. The first and most logical step when the place you live is on fire: Turn on the lights. Really? That is my first concern when shit starts exploding. Maybe I should be able to see the flames before they engulf me. And how is that eco-friendly at all? At least if the building burns down, everyone will take the power company for all they're worth in the last 12 seconds? WTF Evangeline Hall....
2. Close those pesky windows and open the blinds. That way, if by the time you've completed the task list you aren't a pile of ash, you can watch your clothes, mini-refridgerators, and hundreds of dollars worth of text books burn to a crisp.
3. Now before you leave, you should close the door, that way any magical, flame-retardent thieves don't spy your room for easy pickings. But don't lock it. After all, the magical-flame-retardent-thieves aren't immune to collapsing buildings, so we want them in and out of there as quick as possible (to be as humanitarian as possible).
4. Walk quickly to the correct exit. Do not run...? ARE YOU JOKING?! THE BUILDING IS LITERALLY ON FIRE. I've never had a better excuse to run in my fucking life.
5. Make a U-turn (thank God you didn't lock the door). You have to ditch the flip flops and put on some sensible footwear! After all, a fire is not an excuse for open-toed shoes. You also should, rather inexplicably, bring a bath towel. I guess that all the other shit is replaceable, but a bath towel has many uses and is for some reason, irreplaceable.
6. Don't talk. Fire is much like a ghost. If you acknowledge it, it only fucks shit up quicker.
(This is also the step where they tell you what to do with your bath towel and tennis shoes... I smell a fun group activity!!!)
7. Don't go back into the building... NO SHIT, SHERLOCK. IT'S ON FIRE.
On a side-note:
I feel obligated to share what the awkward pair to my left in the aforementioned dormitory's lobby is saying. A few favorite one liners (I added my own internal dialogue in italics).
Boy: Do you feel differently about me? Knowing that I smoke. (No, shit-tarde. She just told you her grampa died from lung-cancer. She thinks smoking is A-Okay!)
Girl: My favorite position is the fetal position. (Yeah... Sure it is)
Girl: (On Mexico) It felt like we were in another country. Wait. I know it was another country. Like another city. (Really... Really?)
Boy: Where do you put it all (out of context, that is totally hilarious and dirty)
Boy: You should play lacrosse (What.the.fuck. Who taught you how to talk to girls)
Girl: My batting average was super high (You sound super high. And super dumb)
Boy: I'm pretty good at the flute (This was a completely unrequested piece of information. Followed by an awkward silence.)
Boy: (In a high pitched voice) Get your ass over hear, Sugar (Again I refuse to share the context, because it is so much fucking funnier this way)
^This is when I audibly laughed and decided I should stop^
*Ahhhh.... Awkward meetings. The best.
On a Side-Note AGAIN:
Awkward boy just asked me for my ID card so he could swipe it in our high security elevator (Apparently you have to have some serious CIA clearance to get to the fifth floor of Evangeline Hall). I gave it to him and asked him if he would close my door in the event of a fire. He nodded.
Peace, Love, and Burning Alive.
Why Facebook Should Allow Takebacks
Shit. Guys.
So it's 5am. I SHOULD be studying for my Chemistry final at 10am, but instead I am writing vaguely threatening facebook messages to girls I like...
Time to explain. So I'm secretly in love with a girl that I've talked to twice. We'll call her Beverly. So Beverly leant me her Lab Binder (for the non-college readersa Lab Binder is the college equivalent of a pyramid scheme. Except you can't make money off it. Actually I'm not sure what a pyramid scheme is a Lab Binder is a text book), because I'm a terrible human being and lost my binder the week before the exam. So Beverly is kind enough to lend me hers, right? She even highlights necessary information and included a personal note about coming to her sorority's Christmas Party later that night WITH A SMILEY FACE. Everyone knows that is 18-year-old for, "I'm irrationally in love with you too," right?
So I get all giggly and decide the only logical thing to do is demand a ransom for her book back. Why? Because I'm totally screwed up in the head. That's why.
So I casually wait until 4 am to write to her. Totally logical and not creepy at all. And include something along the lines of:
"You can't have your book back unless you go on a date with me."
Keep in mind that is just a synopsis.
I'm sure the actual message was far less demanding and somewhat cute, but in my insecure state, this is all I can get from it.
Long story short, Beverly still has no idea I'm in love with her, because we've only spoken twice, and who the hell falls in love with someone that quickly unless your emotionally ill-equipped, and on top of that she now thinks I stole her book to demand a date with her. WHY FACEBOOK!
The Facebook people (who I will now and forever refer to as the Facebook people because I'm too lazy to Bing who the Facebook people actually are) obviously were brought up believing in "black black no trade-backs" because it is literally impossible to unsend a "threat-mantic" Facebook message... (On a rather upbeat side-note, spell check lets you get away with all sorts of made up shit if you put a hyphen between the words. Like creeptastic is not a word, but creep-tastic is totally acceptable).
Thus, I can do nothing but assume that Facebook makes it harder for new relationships to form, because obviously it takes more money to appear "in a relationship" on Facebook than "single" simply for the fact it takes more words. Duh. Why didn't I see this earlier? I think we should all start blaming Facebook for failed relationships everywhere... They obviously hate love because they're greedy corporate fat cats. Bastards.
Peace, Love, and Hyphenation.
So it's 5am. I SHOULD be studying for my Chemistry final at 10am, but instead I am writing vaguely threatening facebook messages to girls I like...
Time to explain. So I'm secretly in love with a girl that I've talked to twice. We'll call her Beverly. So Beverly leant me her Lab Binder (for the non-college readers
 |
| Bogies is a local bar. (Not the stuff on Harry's wand in Harry Potter the Chamber of Secrets that he wipes off on his robes after it being in the Mountain Troll's nose.) |
So I get all giggly and decide the only logical thing to do is demand a ransom for her book back. Why? Because I'm totally screwed up in the head. That's why.
So I casually wait until 4 am to write to her. Totally logical and not creepy at all. And include something along the lines of:
"You can't have your book back unless you go on a date with me."
Keep in mind that is just a synopsis.
I'm sure the actual message was far less demanding and somewhat cute, but in my insecure state, this is all I can get from it.
Long story short, Beverly still has no idea I'm in love with her, because we've only spoken twice, and who the hell falls in love with someone that quickly unless your emotionally ill-equipped, and on top of that she now thinks I stole her book to demand a date with her. WHY FACEBOOK!
The Facebook people (who I will now and forever refer to as the Facebook people because I'm too lazy to Bing who the Facebook people actually are) obviously were brought up believing in "black black no trade-backs" because it is literally impossible to unsend a "threat-mantic" Facebook message... (On a rather upbeat side-note, spell check lets you get away with all sorts of made up shit if you put a hyphen between the words. Like creeptastic is not a word, but creep-tastic is totally acceptable).
Thus, I can do nothing but assume that Facebook makes it harder for new relationships to form, because obviously it takes more money to appear "in a relationship" on Facebook than "single" simply for the fact it takes more words. Duh. Why didn't I see this earlier? I think we should all start blaming Facebook for failed relationships everywhere... They obviously hate love because they're greedy corporate fat cats. Bastards.
Peace, Love, and Hyphenation.
Updated: So I keep rereading this message over and over... Is it as creepy as I think it is?
 |
| Completely lying about making a B... I've been blogging all night. But hey. That little white lie is totally acceptable. |
Updated Again: I looked up pyramid scheme on wikipedia. Totally not a valid reference.... But it's definitely fucked up like a pyramid scheme. We'll call lab binders "pyramid-scheme-ish"
Welcome To My Life
This is how I feel daily...
(From the hilarious folks at Buttersafe.com)
Peace, Love, and Buttersafe.com.
Top 10 Things to Do Other Than Study
1. Create a To Do List that you pretend may help you study:
 |
| The fatal flaw in this list is that if you don't complete one task, you feel no obligation to do the remaining tasks. Therefore, when I forgot to buy an energy drink, the rest of my future came tumbling down... You may say then you should just skip to number two right? WRONG WRONG WRONG. That's not how neurotic OCD people work. You may also suggest to edit the list... But if I just edited away all my problems, what kind of person would I be? A shitty one, obviously. |
2. Sit outside and make friends with strangers.
(Note: This only works when it IS NOT 2am and everyone else is inside studying. When that happens you just look lonely and odd.)
2 and a half. Look lonely and odd.
3. Google fun facts. (Actually its Bing, but don't be nitpicky)
4. Decide you are too lazy to actually look at fun facts, and blog about it instead.
5. Delete old text messages, because lets be honest, who can work with a ton of old text messages cluttering up the inbox of your phone?
6. Kick yourself for deleting all your texts... You never knew how much they meant to you until you deleted them all.
(Is there such a thing as electronic hoarders? Where is that TV show? Because I totally be on that.)
7. Make awkward eye contact with person who just walked by at 2am. Realize they think your crazy. Accept the inevitability and continue typing.
8. Make bids on ebay for unaffordable things, hoping that a glitch in the system will get you a 12dollar Porsche (it has to happen at least once). Relish in the fact you at least tried to do something productive.
 |
| If I could of won this, I would have been able to mark number 9 off my to do list... |
9. Feel bad for not accomplishing anything and for potentially failing out of college.
10. Sadly drive to circle K and buy energy drinks. Hope that all is not lost.
Peace, Love, and Procrastination.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Caravaning: Why People Feel the Need to Honk
I just got back from Destin, Fl. I went down for the weekend with some of my friends and on the way back I noticed the most obnoxious human habit that has ever existed.
And thus the never ending cycle begins. We honk. They honk. They pass us. We pass them.
It's like when you're 8 and your parents give you walkie-talkies for christmas, and you and your brothers make up ways to try and get as far as possible from eachother. That way you can use the walkie talkies, because for some reason the communication was six hundred times cooler.
But here's the dilemma. CARS AREN'T WALKIE TALKIES. It's obnoxious. And I was in the car.
Maybe I have an issue... Is this a fun part of life that I can't understand? Because I think that it's nonsense. I guarantee that the people know damn good and well you are following them. YOU'RE CARAVANNING FOR CHRISSAKE.
And then to cap it all off, you pass the other car, giggle and then WAVE!?
I tried to bring this up to Frankie, the driver of the green car in the real life photos above (I had to add the captions because words aren't spelled out on top of your head in real life. Duh), and he kept excusing it saying he needed them to pass, or he was trying to tell them something... Did he forget about the magical little box that makes phone calls? I've decided to start randomly calling him and honking instead of telling him why I called. Just because I'm a spiteful bastard.
But anyways, I'm pretty sure this should be a part of the driving test. Putting your friends in nearby travel lanes and NOT waving or honking your horn. That's something that America could benefit from. Not what double yellow lines mean. Which honestly, I'm still working on figuring out.
It either means, "Don't pass" or "Pass quickly, dumbass". I'm banking on the second explanation.
Peace, Love, and Honking Horns.
It's hard to apply yourself, really it is.
There is nothing, and I mean NOTHING sadder than the hundreds of thousands of blogs upon blogs out there on the internet without a single follower (at least ten of which belong to me...). This is why I have come to the sudden conclusion that I must become popular.
But to do that I have to apply myself to actually a.) Write a Blog and b.) Have people like my blog. I will make it part of my new "Five Day Plan". Which I fully intend to write down and hang on a mirror somewhere. Because statistically you are 86% more likely to accomplish your goal if you write it down.
That's not true.
But I'm sure its some fun statistic like that, and I personally like 86% because it doesn't sound too made up to not be true. So there you go, my first bit of almost not useless advice! Take that and impress someone.
But I'm wandering. The Five Day Plan to become a popular blogger. Why? Well I figured I would fit in with the hilarious/talented people who I've read the past few months since I started college. People like The Bloggess and hyperboleandahalf.com have undoubtedly taken up 90% of time I allotted to studying. And now I am just the creepy kid who sits in the library and giggles at his computer screen. Fuck you gawkers. I can see you looking. And no, I am not on any medication. Yet.
Anyway. This is where I should place the disclaimer. I intend for this blog to be satirical. I don't intend it to harm/insult/make anyone send me angry letters. To be honest, I don't handle criticism well. And I don't give a shit if you like me or not.
That's a lie to, I do care. Love me.
Peace, Love, and Popularity.
But to do that I have to apply myself to actually a.) Write a Blog and b.) Have people like my blog. I will make it part of my new "Five Day Plan". Which I fully intend to write down and hang on a mirror somewhere. Because statistically you are 86% more likely to accomplish your goal if you write it down.
That's not true.
But I'm sure its some fun statistic like that, and I personally like 86% because it doesn't sound too made up to not be true. So there you go, my first bit of almost not useless advice! Take that and impress someone.
But I'm wandering. The Five Day Plan to become a popular blogger. Why? Well I figured I would fit in with the hilarious/talented people who I've read the past few months since I started college. People like The Bloggess and hyperboleandahalf.com have undoubtedly taken up 90% of time I allotted to studying. And now I am just the creepy kid who sits in the library and giggles at his computer screen. Fuck you gawkers. I can see you looking. And no, I am not on any medication. Yet.
Anyway. This is where I should place the disclaimer. I intend for this blog to be satirical. I don't intend it to harm/insult/make anyone send me angry letters. To be honest, I don't handle criticism well. And I don't give a shit if you like me or not.
That's a lie to, I do care. Love me.
Peace, Love, and Popularity.
 |
| See. I wrote it down. It's loosely based on God's plan to make the universe (I wonder if he wrote that down?) Maybe it's hung up with gum that may or may not be mine. Whatever. |
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