Tuesday, September 13
If it's one thing I learned this year, my junior year, was to take senior classes. They are the easiest fucking courses and plus it looks good on your record; You know, that "next higher level" crap and all. The only reason I took 20th Century Lit/Comp was that I can never understand a single fucking thing that Shakespeare says, and the junior english course is british literature. "To be or not to be, that is the question." Come on fucker you're supposed to say, "What the fuck do I do?" Simple as that, but no, Sir William prefers to waste words and my eyesight, further speeding up to my days of having to wear reading glasses. I could come up with a hundred different simple translations for that phrase alone.

"Should I do this?"
"Should I do this or not?"
"What do I do?"
"Do I do this, or do I do that?"
"Dude, I gotta stop thinking with my dick!"

Okay that was five, but at least you could understand them. And quite not frankly I don't find Shakespeare's lingo very beautiful in any way possibly because it's been overplayed into our pop culture, hence watering down its meaning. Perhaps someday I will get it but for now I'd rather read Arthur books and analyze upon why Arthur is the main character living a human life, yet he still owns a pet dog.

Today in literature we had to write a paragraph or two including at least ten vocabulary words about a date with a celebrity of our choice. I chose Keith Richards because there's a lot of shit to write about him. But no shagging. He's fucking hideous these days. I'm not quite sure why I didn't choose Denis Leary though.

There was a quiz on the first two chapters of The Catcher in the Rye and the questions were within the boundaries of, "What is the main character's first name?" The teacher even said that's how simple his quizzes are. And that's an actual question off the quiz. Take notice that he's only asking for the person's first name.

I failed the ten-question quiz anyway. Even if I did read the book two or three times before. But don't worry, I got that very question correct though.

So the Stones are playing at Madison Square Garden tonight and surprise! I'm not going. My dream concert would be to see them, and to see them front row center, within spitting distance of Mick Jagger just so he could spit on me. I mean, going up to someone on the street and saying that you've seen the Stones is like saying you've found divinity. Just say it: "I saw the Stones last night, man." And you'll feel like you just got the greatest blow job in town. And for girls - like you've lost ten pounds. Actually I should be saying twenty pounds, at the rate that this country is consuming calories and obesity points.

I shouldn't be talking, but hey I don't need to lose ten pounds like the majority of America's population.

Speaking of divinity, David Lee Roth seems to be everywhere this past century. Including your house.

bada bing
bada boom
voila!

I gotta give credit to whomever found that house and took those pictures, because they deserve to be pope.


Christina N. @ 6:05 PM