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Prince "3121" |
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Mmmmmm, DJ.
Yo, yo. Honestly, it's getting crazy that these weeks are flying by so quickly. It is fucking April 12th. I'll be back at Lemont in just under four weeks. I don't even know how I feel about that. Do we all remember my freakout last May when it occurred to me, oh yeah, I was confined once again to L-Town? Anyway, I'm not here to make anything summer seem like a chore, because it's not -- I can't wait to see all my people and hang with my family again. I just hope I'm not slaving away at Chipain's or wondering if I'm doing life correctly throughout the season. All semi-minor frustrations.
Now, down to real business. I was ECSTATIC to find an episode of the Nickelodeon classic Hey Dude" on youtube.com just now. The episode was never one of my favorites, but I was thrilled just to revisit the Bar None Ranch and all its employees who apparently had no problem with unmatched polos. You can thank me later:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=_ovCbknxh9c
Some thoughts on the episode:
1) Buddy = Ms. Traina? I think so.
2) Brad, I was just wondering if you could be more of a man-hater. I don't know what uncle molested you, but he must've been a crafty one, because you are militant about cockblocking. You were made for shoulder pads.
3) Luckily Danny got to be the Answer Man because he "grew up" in the West. Well, obviously! He's the staff indian! Someone put him a headdress, please!
4) Melody, if you were my co-worker, and you started with your pollyanna shit, I'd have not only called you "vanilla," I'd have stuffed you into one of the inn mailboxes. Who's "passionate" now?
5) The ending credits where the announcer mentions The Tomorrow People. OMG. WHO REMEMBERS THAT. Remember the Monsoon Man episode? And then of course Dottie from Weinerville arrived, reminding us that Mark Weiner is the most outspoken pedophile of the 90s.
5) Other than that, the Oscar goes to Hey Dude.
And I think I've got a couple other links you might like... because you know you want to spend summer at Camp Anawana.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ZdxfEVA8rM (Radio Contest Episode)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zszg44IDZ6Q (Outtakes! Hear Budnick and Mona say, "Shit.")
Youtube.com has been a source of another new obsession of mine. You guessed it: Ann Coulter. Ann Coulter is, of course, the awful "conservative" (though I'd hate to malign Conservatives that way) who says things like, "Liberals HATE their country. Liberals are ALL RACIST" shortly before describing Muslims as "ragheads." In other words, Ann Coulter is the most entertaining personality of all time. What will she do next? She wants you to hate her because she wears evil high heels. Furthermore, this woman can't mean to be productive, because half the things she says are insults. She doesn't EVER offer solutions to anything. She just wants people polarized, and she also wants people to believe she is hot. That is a shame, because girl, you look 70 pounds, and your weave is made of bleachy sheets of platinum metal. Did I forget to mention this bitch once called an audience member, "gay boy"?
Elyse called me a couple days ago with pretty awful news. A former LHS student, my year, was hit and killed by a train early on Monday. He was intoxicated, which is kind of no surprise considering it was him. His MySpace mentions drinking at least 40 times. It didn't hit me how real the event was until I read a report of it in the Western Ill. University paper. Then it was chilling. It's no secret by now; the guy was Ryan Francis, someone I've known since roughly second grade. Well, I can't say I knew him. I knew he was an asshole to me every time I ever saw him. But that's irrelevant. It's also strange, because, really, you expect a few people to die young after high school. Then of course it happens and you're shocked. Hmmm.
In much less substantial news, I had two practicals to complete in my theater crafts class yesterday morning. I'd prepared for class pretty thoroughly, and I went to bed that night, and woke up at 10:20 a.m. That's right. I slept through it. I raced down to class during the last moments when students were walking away, and if you can believe it, my instructor let me complete both of the practicals without losing any points. Um, I've underestimated the gray-haired wizard man they call James Birder. He really helped me out when he didn't have to. I didn't get attendance points for that class, but that's okay. Now I'm not down any project points, and I'm thrilled about it. Maybe next time I'll not just set my alarm but push the "ring" button too. Jesus. I've been so disorganized lately -- I missed a literature response, I've been behind on journalism articles, totally in the dark about my RA class... and I'm just wafting through it all. It must be the end of the schoolyear, because I'm in no mood to figure out my shit. I'm done in four weeks anyway, and then I'm eating puppy chow until I die.
I must comment on two weekends ago when I went to Studio with Lauren (and eventually my buds Valerie and Kristin showed up too). After a discouraging beginning to the night where, of course, Phil showed up, I eventually danced and grinded the night away with a hot little number whose name I still don't know. Basically it was just more of the escapist fun I've come to associate Studio with. Skanky escapism, sure, but a necessary departure from reality nonetheless. In a dramatic turn of events, I sighted the artist formerly known as CRUSHY at the end of the night! I remember thinking, "Who's getting their mack on NOW, Crushy?" Because Crushy sort of swayed back and forth with his little vacant smile. If only he loved me so... just maybe I'd be sympathetic. Alas, our romance was not to be... during this lifetime...
Just occurred to me I have an outline to do, so I'm gonna get going on that before I forget any other assignments I have to do. Thanks for listening, and I'll be popping in again, soon enough.
Heartin' y'all, xoxo,
Louis
P.S. The title of this entry refers to April 13th being the fifth anniversary of the day I bought Exile In Guyville. Talk about your ultra-momentous occasions! I'm still bopping along to "Fuck and Run" and "Help Me Mary" like I'm a freshman in high school. Onward, Louis, on your horse and into the sunset... of coolness.
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