Brian
This man owns my face. Seriously. He is, by far, one of the funniest people I have ever met.
Here's a sampling:
"yanno those wierd little dark veins that old women get on their legs?
well today i was in CVS and i thought the cashier had those all over her chin.
come to find out, it was just her beard."
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"i'm sleep deprived and failing classes. so.....
there's a good chance i'll be failing out soon enough and starting my own indie garage band that plays bar mitzvahs.
it'll be the [kosher] shiz.
like all other indie groups, we'll shop solely at thrift shops.
also, we'll hate mainstream anything... including breathing oxygen.
lastly, we'll be called something so blindingly unique that you'll go into convulsions every time our name is muttered
here's some ideas: [start convulsing]
--earthworm benefaction
--handgrip weave master
--ukelele deficit
--ass.pit
i can hear it now:
"mazeltov, benjamin, you're now a man! let's celebrate with some ass.pit!"
now if you'll please excuse me, i heard the salvation army just got in some cardigans and black rimmed glasses.
--i bid you adieu"
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"attempting to look at the brighter side of things, i look at the sky and watch the rain fall. too bad i didnt notice the wall of sewer water flying at me from the gutter as the cars hit it. apparently this was funny, or so it seemed to everyone who saw.
I AM ABSOLUTELY FUCKING PISSED AT THIS POINT. i have dead leaves, motor oil, and dirty water dripping from my clothes. the gutter water that filled my mouth was filled with sand and broken glass. it takes everything i have not to run into traffic and end it all here.
in my fury i look-up and see the transvestite club on the other side of the street. I HAVE TRANSVESTITE CLUB GUTTER WATER LINING MY MOUTH AND DRIPPING FROM MY CLOTHES. an atomic bomb goes off in my mind. it's sad to realize that it can't get any worse that this, in no way shape or form.
traffic keeps coming, and no one pays attention to me on the street corner, they just point and laugh as i cringe, back against the wall, as i'm pounded time and again with the wall of water. my bags are so heavy that i can't move them quickly enough and i have to live with it.
this happens another four times. the last of which being a pimped-out yukon, bass thumping, that hit the water so hard and so fast that it jet-propelled the liquid filth 20 feet into the parking deck i'm plastered against. i hear some japanese dude some 15 feet behind me scream fuck as it drenched him too. now i have sand in my contacts and motor oil in my hair.
like i said, i have no words to explain this trip home.
i cross the street and and back on campus. it's still pouring and i want to die.
i trudge back up to my dorm room, and open the door.
apparently the unibomber hit my dorm room becuase shit was EVERYWHERE.
as usual the roomie was asleep and the entire room stank of ass.
he wakes up for just long enough to tell me they never found the mouse he saw go into my wardrobe last night.
i dont even fucking remember what happened next. all i know is that i'm in the most bitter fucking mood ever.... 7 hours later.
if you need me, you can find me at the top of tech tower.
i'm the one with the sniper rifle...."
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"KELLY CLARKSON GIRL AND THE KID THAT HAS A CRUSH ON HER WERE SINGING DISNEY SING ALONGS THIS MORNING AT 6AM IN THE STUDIO. I FUCKING HATE THAT FUCKING ALADDIN'S WHOLE NEW WORLD FUCKING SING ALONG BULLSHIT.
fuck
every time i see her now, all i can think about is auschwitz."
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"its 4:20 am and the roomie just came back.... high off his ass and mumbling about gravity.
i think it's safe to say god has a sense of humor / loves irony."
Also, I forgot to mention yesterday that Brian and I aren't the only ones who hate this 'Tas'. Jessica has been quoted as saying "God, I wish I could slip that girl a Valium." And Jessica's our instructor.
Here's a sampling:
"yanno those wierd little dark veins that old women get on their legs?
well today i was in CVS and i thought the cashier had those all over her chin.
come to find out, it was just her beard."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"i'm sleep deprived and failing classes. so.....
there's a good chance i'll be failing out soon enough and starting my own indie garage band that plays bar mitzvahs.
it'll be the [kosher] shiz.
like all other indie groups, we'll shop solely at thrift shops.
also, we'll hate mainstream anything... including breathing oxygen.
lastly, we'll be called something so blindingly unique that you'll go into convulsions every time our name is muttered
here's some ideas: [start convulsing]
--earthworm benefaction
--handgrip weave master
--ukelele deficit
--ass.pit
i can hear it now:
"mazeltov, benjamin, you're now a man! let's celebrate with some ass.pit!"
now if you'll please excuse me, i heard the salvation army just got in some cardigans and black rimmed glasses.
--i bid you adieu"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"attempting to look at the brighter side of things, i look at the sky and watch the rain fall. too bad i didnt notice the wall of sewer water flying at me from the gutter as the cars hit it. apparently this was funny, or so it seemed to everyone who saw.
I AM ABSOLUTELY FUCKING PISSED AT THIS POINT. i have dead leaves, motor oil, and dirty water dripping from my clothes. the gutter water that filled my mouth was filled with sand and broken glass. it takes everything i have not to run into traffic and end it all here.
in my fury i look-up and see the transvestite club on the other side of the street. I HAVE TRANSVESTITE CLUB GUTTER WATER LINING MY MOUTH AND DRIPPING FROM MY CLOTHES. an atomic bomb goes off in my mind. it's sad to realize that it can't get any worse that this, in no way shape or form.
traffic keeps coming, and no one pays attention to me on the street corner, they just point and laugh as i cringe, back against the wall, as i'm pounded time and again with the wall of water. my bags are so heavy that i can't move them quickly enough and i have to live with it.
this happens another four times. the last of which being a pimped-out yukon, bass thumping, that hit the water so hard and so fast that it jet-propelled the liquid filth 20 feet into the parking deck i'm plastered against. i hear some japanese dude some 15 feet behind me scream fuck as it drenched him too. now i have sand in my contacts and motor oil in my hair.
like i said, i have no words to explain this trip home.
i cross the street and and back on campus. it's still pouring and i want to die.
i trudge back up to my dorm room, and open the door.
apparently the unibomber hit my dorm room becuase shit was EVERYWHERE.
as usual the roomie was asleep and the entire room stank of ass.
he wakes up for just long enough to tell me they never found the mouse he saw go into my wardrobe last night.
i dont even fucking remember what happened next. all i know is that i'm in the most bitter fucking mood ever.... 7 hours later.
if you need me, you can find me at the top of tech tower.
i'm the one with the sniper rifle...."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"KELLY CLARKSON GIRL AND THE KID THAT HAS A CRUSH ON HER WERE SINGING DISNEY SING ALONGS THIS MORNING AT 6AM IN THE STUDIO. I FUCKING HATE THAT FUCKING ALADDIN'S WHOLE NEW WORLD FUCKING SING ALONG BULLSHIT.
fuck
every time i see her now, all i can think about is auschwitz."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"its 4:20 am and the roomie just came back.... high off his ass and mumbling about gravity.
i think it's safe to say god has a sense of humor / loves irony."
Also, I forgot to mention yesterday that Brian and I aren't the only ones who hate this 'Tas'. Jessica has been quoted as saying "God, I wish I could slip that girl a Valium." And Jessica's our instructor.