Disentomb

Ohi.

Um..

BLARGGITY.

Yeah, I'm writing in this thing for the first time in ages. To be perfectly honest, I just forget about it a lot. It's not like I have motivation for writing in it. My friends never write anything about how awesome I am anyway. I feel like I deserve at least ten paragraphs single spaced and flushed left about how my personality is like a delicious earthquake in everyone's fuckparts. But whatever. I can deal.

I have been so insanely busy. I work till 2 am two days of the week and have class at 9, and it makes me wanna just sleep whenever I have free time, so that limits my time for homework and the like. Plus a five hour lab thing that's basically a final exam every week. With this THING as a lab partner.

Guys, don't get me wrong. He's a nice enough guy sometimes. But honestly, if ONE. MORE. TIME. If I have this blond, crusty, fritos-inhaling beer-guzzling cellulite titan try and order me around this lab just because he's some semblance of a teensy bit STRESSED I am going to stuff dynamite in his cockhole.

I'm not really that angry about it, I swear.

I'm listening to this song called "Hattem Groove" written for the carillon. I've been up there a lot lately playing a bunch. I'm not sure why, but every time I get stressed out I always get an urge to go up there and bang away. Hot. And omfg, I just found a video of someone playing Gaga's Bad Romance on the carillon. I am finding that music. And I am doing it. Cannot wait.


I am rooming with Lan Chi this year. Did I say that already? I think I did. I felt like I described her at some point. Oh well. All you need to know is that she's a ho. A fun ho. But a ho nonetheless.

Thoughts for the day:

* George is obsessed with Magic

* Ben won't stop biting any parts of his hands that he can get his... hands on

* I get little to no work done in my own room. I get distracted by the different kinds of coffee I can make.

* What the fuck is a winter lantern.

* Miami Subs is pretty good and has interesting specials

* Oh my god that girl looks like a dilapidated leather purse

This is a really long blog post for me. I'm proud of myself. I feel empty though. But that's okay. A quick phone call can solve that, bahahahaa cry.

Yours truly,

My Pet Rock



...

PS. I guess I'm not really yours truly, cause it's MY pet rock. Fuckers.