I sat my rumpus down on the swivel chair in front of this computer and felt taller than I did when I was standing. Who sits at a computer like this? I feel like I’m sitting atop a bar stool awaiting a sex on the beach.
While making my way toward this building, I passed two portly girls sitting at a folding table with about a dozen potted plants sitting in front of them. I furrowed my brow at what I knew was happening as I passed the sign that said “Plant Sale!!” Really? You’re attempting to sell wilting potted plants to college students? We want nothing to do with what you’re selling unless it has an alcoholic content, sugary goodness, nudity, or a crude message written on it. Or if it’s free. Go try your luck at a nursing home. They’ve got nothing better to spend their pennies on, and on top of that, a lot of them are senile, bumping your chances of a sale up pretty significantly.
I am irritated by people who assign their relationship status on Facebook as “complicated” with someone. All “complicated” means it that she is still desperately obsessed, and he ignores her texts and phonecalls until the weekend when he’s drunk and lets her come over to suck his D. Do yourself a favor and cut the cord, Swimfan.
People that are diehard MySpace users need to stop living in the past. Let go of the Vietcong, Grandpa. Facebook has obviously taken reign over the online social networking kingdom. The only people left on MySpace are pedophiles with beer guts, girls that wear blue eyeshadow and decorate their pages with animated, blinking, glittery headings, and Spam generated “sexy Latino singles” looking for love. Let Tom go, and move it on over to FB.
My palms are sweaty with anticipation of the coming of summer vacation. I simply cannot wait for finals to be over. It seems that all of my friends from other universities have finished and have been boozing for the past 72 hours. Not I. Bah. OH summer, come to me. Too bad I’ll be working like a Clydesdale all summer long. I need to make some serious money if I expect to support myself next year. I had to borrow money from my parents on two separate occasions this term alone. Food, alcohol, parking–it adds up.
Another thing I’m looking forward to doing is becoming enviably bronzer than any other human being in my zip code. Come June 6th, I predict, I will be darker than Christina Milian. Oh yes, you’ll see.
Time to go.
“Oh my goooodddd!!! OUUUCCHHH!!!!”