So Iím done-but-not-officially-done with school for the semester. I took my Graphic Art History final tonight, and although Iím not sure if I passed or failed, I am sure that itís over with, and thatís the important thing.
I have all of my assignments and projects turned in for the semester, so the only thing left is one class tomorrow. Iím not exactly sure what Iím going to do once there, considering that all of my work is done, but one of my classmates always brings Starbucks pastries on Thursday, so Iím guessing Iíll be consuming all kinds of sugary goodness.
At one point, there was talk of an end-of-the-semester party, but Iím not sure if that was in seriousness or not, as I was out turning in my Algebra homework when most of the discussion went down. I figure Iíll play it safe and just show up in a g-string. If thereís a party, Iíll be a hit, and if thereís not, Iíll get sent home, sparing myself the drabness of having to hang out in a non-party environment.
Somebody said they were bringing milk. If that doesnít sound like a party, I donít know what does.
I had planned on coming straight home after class and busting out the whiskey and the word processing program, but Iím not so sure about all that. I for sure want to get some writing done (some fun writing, thoughónot the crap where I discuss the steps I went through to develop blah blah blah). Iím not sure if booze will help that process, or just knock me out by four in the afternoon. After a week of finals, drinking in moderation is not something I fully trust myself doing.
Anyway, I didnít really have anything else to say tonight, but I was excited about being done with school (for the most part) and wanted to tell you about it.
As an extra bonus, Iíll tell you what else I did today: I changed the filter in my purifier pitcher. I watered the plants (because you have to run through two pitchers to clean the filter or something). I did three loads of laundry.
I ate a bowl of cereal (Ohs!, which will shred the mouth slightly less than Capín CrunchÖbut only slightly less). The milk hadnít quite gone bad yet, but it was close. If I hadnít been so hungry for cereal, I probably would have just dumped the milk down the sink.
I loaded the dishwasher and started it. I made a list of people I need to call once Iím not spending all my time doing schoolwork. I ate some roast beef for lunch, and spent the rest of the day trying to escape the apocalyptic smells that were coming out of my bodyóroast beef gives me mad gas.
I studied for my Graphic Art History test. I got sidetracked for a while thinking about how everyone in the Star Wars universe acts like Yoda is so bad-ass, but heís really just a little green pussy.
I mean, think about it, man: in Empire, he spends most of his time as annoying comic relief (the Jar-Jar Binks before George Lucas decided he really hated humanity). But then you watch the most recent movies, and Yodaís supposed to be this super-Jedi, right? He never wins a fight. The closest he comes to victory is when the storm troopers turn on him. He fights a couple of them (compared to the dozens that other Jediís were fighting) and then he hightails it like a little bitch.
He spends his time fighting a bunch of old men, and gets his ass handed to him time after time. And in the end? Runs the hell awayÖagain.
These are the things I was thinking about when I should have been thinking about how Milton Glaser made a poster for Bob Dylan. In case you donít know Glaser, heís the guy who invented that ďI heart NYĒ thing that you see on the t-shirt of every New York tourist ever.
I bought a huge bottle of whiskey and a chicken McNugget combo. McDonalds is being an asshole about their sauce, but Iíll wait to tell you about it until I have photo evidence.
I called rik, and she whined about how Iím always threatening to kill her. I informed her that as long as she made me laugh, she was no good to me dead. She then went into detail about how fun it would be to take her corpse places (ďYou could put me up in a tree, or take me to the zoo. Dress me up.Ē).
I got to thinking about how awesome it would be to put rikís dead body in a wagon, and pull her through a public park, selling ice cream treats out of her abdomen. Or maybe fill her with candy and make it to where you could bend her over and then squeeze her hand (or any other body part) and shoot Jolly Ranchers out of her ass at passers-by. Or dress up in her skin and go into the womenís restroom.
I decided that I should probably kill rik because of how much fun it would be to have her corpse handy.
I wrote this post, ensuring that rik will outlive meóthereís no way sheíll give up the ghost when thereís a chance Iíll be around to defile her physical manifestation using the methods listed above. ďWe donít know how sheís still holding onóher lungs collapsed two weeks ago, her heart stopped beating the Saturday before last, and Iím pretty sure most of her blood has leaked out into her pee-bag. She just wonít let go until Ray is ready. Thatís true friendship.Ē
ďYeah, something like that.Ē
And that was my day.