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mood |
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 tired |
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music |
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Joni Mitchell "The Circle Game" |
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Holy fucking hello, dudes and dudettes. I'm pretty grossed out that it's been five days since the last update...what I was even thinking, I can't even tell you. I've had the urge to update for like...days, but The Man had otherwise plans. Anyway, this week is the big "YOU BETTER FUCKING STUDY BECAUSE THE MIDTERMS ARE GONNA RAPE YOUR ASS" suckfest of hitting the books and giving a shit. Uggh, I hate it when college forces me to care...I don't pay them to make get studious, you know? Next week it's midterms for Soc Sci, Lit of Rome, and Psychology...and it's payback time in Psych for last test, where there were multiple choice questions sprung from the ninth circle of hell. I will have your head, Professor Baron. Do excuse if this entry is really choppy or...stupid and short, I am so tired and I have no idea why.
Also, since this is a college town, it's pre-election hysteria around here. In my Speaking & Reading class, I've done about four thousand assignments regarding the analysis of the presidential debates... and for each analysis, it's the same thing, "Kerry proposes a solution. Bush calls him a flip-flopper." Pretty sick of it. I am registered in Iowa though, in case there was any doubt that Louis was not going to vote in the swing state of corn. You can officially chalk another one up for George W. Bush, my favorite president of all time. Hahaha. Of course not. The people I've been around at Iowa...when you talk to them, it's basically assumed that you're a Kerry supporter. It's not bitchy or elitist, but there simply exists a general attitude about what's happening. Aside from all those people, I can't stand a number of things about George W. Bush. One, I HATE that he is against gays and the right to adopt. Hey, George, you know what's a good idea is to keep all these kids in fucking orphanages...better that than having a responsible adult (or adults) care for them. But I forgot, if gays are allowed to adopt...then suddenly their kids will become gay too! And they'll assfuck all over this great nation of ours! In the churches! In the schoolyards! In your face! Thank God that's thinking logically and not thinking like a homophobic dipshit. Because it's not like out of the 125,000 kids up for adoption last year, only 50,000 got adopted or anything. No, that would be ridiculous. Of course the Iraq situation and our nation's volatility and decrease in security is an issue...by this time those things have become apparent truths. And on a personal note (this doesn't have an effect on my not liking him as a presidential nominee), how about George W. Bush address American citizens in an intelligent manner? You know, without smirking like a dumbass who doesn't have the "logos" to back up what he's saying. But ugggh, what do I know.
It's been forever since last weekend, but I'll do my best to review. On Friday night, I barracaded myself in my room for awhile and had some sacred time alone to finally figure out my feelings about college and how things were going. Besides that though, it was more an "alright, what am I doong" in terms of who I've spent most of my time with and how much effort I've put in to being up on all my classes. Also came to a few conclusions that I wanted to write down...namely things like I need to be looking forward more instead of striving to reconcile old wounds. Same old shit, you know. More importantly, I got to spend some time with Like A Prayer which is still one of the coolest discs I own.
Later that night I went with Maggie, Phil, Kristina, and Kinzy to No Shame. No, I still haven't performed. Just call me Douchey. This week it'll probably happen...no promises, but I really just need to get this shit out of my system. If college isn't a place where I can act like a lesbian and make monster truck rally jokes, then really, why am I here? Then why are any of us here? Haha, bet those italics really made that shit sound deep... no, I really was just talking about silly lesbians. Anyway, despite a couple of good skits, No Shame sucked the typical amount of ass that it generally does. That's another reason I have to perform in No Shame, to bring back the badassness, kickassitude, and hip hop flavor that it's lacking. They call me LL Cool Louis.
Phil and I went over to his dorm to find anything to do, and we ended up watching a tape of him in dance class, busting it out like he was on Star Search. And losing. No, actually, he was doing a good job (who hearts my sarcasm...not Phil). Hmmm, I actually can't remember too much of what we did at his dorm other than we did go down to the vending machine room, and chatted there for awhile. Phil was fucking eating this little canister of...God, what the hell was that, chicken or tuna or something? It smelled like ass, and he insisted on eating it. Whatever. We went back to his room and Phil once again decided it was time for me to brush up on my massage skills. Apparently I'm improving since this time he noted, "I'm sorry, this is better than sex." Looking back, that would've been a good time to prod him with an electrified fork or something. Soon we both got tired, and decided to go to "sleep together" (literally, not sexually) on his dinky little bed. Alright, if there are seriously people who can sleep in that confined a space without problem, then congratulations, but no matter how much I shifted, I felt like my back was being torn in two, and apparently I was pushing Phil into the wall. We tried sleeping with legs intertwined and heads resting in semi-comfortable positions but it wasn't meant to be in the end. I headed home, frigging exhausted, at 3:45 AM. The next morning, I met up with raptorman for breakfast and an eventual hangout session at my dorm. He insisted on being challenged by my trivia prowess, so I handed his ass to him in Jeopardy! on PS2. The streak continues...from Corey to Joe Barnett to Eric Forst to Dan O'Dwyer to basically Ken Jennings and now to Phil "Fuckhead" Ollenburg. However, he did school me in Karaoke Revolution (total surprise, most people mistake me for Mariah Carey when they hear me play). He was a little bitch about it too when we played: "Oooh, flat" and "Let me sing this for you." That's alright, babe, I'll fail "Celebration" on my own, ho-bag. We went back to his dorm for awhile too...watching "What Not to Wear" (Phil's bible?) and then eventually we headed to dinner. We parted ways then, and that night I stayed in the hallway at my dorm and played Apples to Apples and Scattegories with a bunch of other Currier-ites like I was the lost Parker Brother. Naturally I cleaned up at Scattegories...sometimes I wonder why others even try, you know?
And okay, I'm sick of reviewing... all I am now is tired and really confused as to what I'm supposed to do for "pre-registration" since...I guess I'm supposed to now have two advisers, one for some things and one for journalism. The whole thing makes me fucking ill; there's no reason for me to be advised this much. Oh well. Guess I'll flunk out!
Annnnnd Rachel is hurrying her ass over here in...3 days. Still very excited...no, I just changed my mind, I want the bitch to eat shit by herself in Lemont. But the plans are already made. Uggggh. In other news, my brother Mark found this game online that my uncle in St. Louis used to have us play on his old computer. Mark sent me a URL where I could find it, and now Boloball is my possession again. I've played at least 10 games already, and that feisty fucking red computer player has kicked my ass like half the time. I got so mad during one game that I actually said to the computer, "Oh, bitch, I didn't know you wanted to play hardball." I don't think they make pills for people like me.
But I am so tired, a better entry will be on the way. Hopefully your autumn is going wonderfully...I really miss a lot of people, hope they're all doing well. Feels like the weeks are flying by... I cannot believe I'm almost halfway done with my first year at college. Who am I, certainly not Louis Virtel! He's 16 forever! Anyway, only four weeks till Thanksgiving, so sweet God, rejoice. Love you, love you, love you, stay sweet, hunny!
Foreva,
Louis.
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