Today

Leaving warren hall a half-hour ago, I saw tied to the trashcan outside the door a solitary powder-blue balloon with the word "TODAY" written on it in dark block letters. Earlier, it was one of three balloons that said "Vote," "Today," and something else, I forgot. My friends had sucked up the helium from the first two balloons at the start of the study session.

I started walking to my car, and when I got there I turned around to stare at the balloon swaying gently and looking hopeful even as it guarded the doors to hell. I walked back to the balloon, unfettered it and walked it to the middle of the empty parking lot, where I let it go and watched as it floated up, spiralling, eventually disappearing in the mist.

And that's why Tim gets to do my taxes this year

Just read a hilarious article, the premise if which is: Since math-deficient people (like myself) are forced to do something we thoroughly suck at (taxes), each and every year, why not force the math-loving people of the country to do things they suck at, like writing and singing, once each year? Click here for the article

PMS

Something strange I have been noticing lately is that when I am PMS-ing, my alcohol tolerance goes waaay up. I haven't tested this phenomenon fully, but I'll try to remember to keep tabs on myself next month when I'm feeling pissy and I'm breaking out and crying for no good reason.

I moved today. It took only 2 hours this time--I must be getting good at it, either that or I have less and less stuff (probably the latter). For the next month and a half I will be the resident cook/houseguest at tim's pad.

The return of the burrito

Last night I went to Red Circle and got pretty drunk. I tried a Jager-blaster (or three), which is Jager and redbull, and was very surprised to discover that Jager mixed in this particular manner tastes nothing like licorice (I HATE licorice). I have a new fuck-me-up-quick drink! After clubbing I went to Santana's and inhaled with astounding rapidity a one-pound carne asada california burrito, while drinking hot salsa from a small cup. The combination of copious amounts of alcohol, hot salsa, greasy meat, and fried potatoes resulted this morning in a rather violent episode i have named "the return of the burrito."

I have stopped trembling, but I am still recovering.

Shit

I have this problem of not being able to go #2 in places that are unfamiliar to me, or where I don't feel completely comfortable. I simply won't go. When I travel, I will literally not go #2 for up to a week. It took me months, perhaps a year, to be able to go comfortably at Tim's place.

So the fact that I have been shitting with abandon for some months now at the law school study hell--er, halls, is utterly terrifying.

Here's a poem I lifted from Spam Poetry, a blog that makes poetry composed only of recent spam subject headers:

American Patriots,
How can we serve you better?

Win a laptop computer?
Win a trip to Florida?
Win a NEW LEXUS?
We give you more of what you want.

American Patriots,
How can we serve you better?
Want free movies?
Want to date a supermodel?
Want a bigger penis and stronger erections?
You will love it!

American Patriots,
How can we serve you better?
We have decided to increase your credit,
Increase your penis size, now
Give you free money.

Just Vote Bush. Your wife will never know.

More on the Federal Marriage Amendment

Interesting Article