The past two weeks have been filled with nothing but class work, homework, and plain old work. My schedule is ridiculous and my focus has been on getting all my work done, so it's no surprise that life has snuck up on me to remind me that I'm just a pawn in its twisted little games.
I had to work at our new studio building on Monday. My least favorite professor had me cleaning out the greenhouse turned art building so we could move the old stuff into the new building. The temperature in that glass oven ranged somewhere between 95 and fuck you.
I was moving Halloween paraphernalia from the greenhouse to the room beside it which was about a 6 foot distance. My mood was grand. I was grumbling along- box in hand, avoiding spiders and drawing boards when my foot caught on something that was not in my line of vision. I went flying across the room, but managed to cushion my fall by landing on a box filled with a tiny metal popcorn machine and orange fuzzy pumpkins. There was also another item hidden in the box.. A very real, very large knife with a fucking 12 inch blade. That bitch sailed out of nowhere and lodged itself in the side of my pony tail - narrowly avoiding my neck by about an inch and a half. I almost shit my pants. I immediately went to show Satan's mistress what was lurking in her boxes and her response was "glad you didn't die. That would have been a horrible lawsuit." Bitch.
The next day was just as odd. I'm a sophomore in college. I realize not everyone has the same maturity level and such, but really.. We're considered adults. There is a boy that wears a Perry the Platypus hat with a hat like the platypus wears in the cartoon sewn on top. I try not to make fun of him because I'm already concerned God is going to give me ugly babies as punishment for all the other people I've made fun of and the last thing I need is a college student that wants to wear a fucking kids hat. So, I'm walking to class and I see him at the top of the hill I'm about to walk up. I sucked in my breath and was about to bite my tongue when I squinted and saw it. Mother fucker had a rolling backpack. I haven't seen one of those bitches since elementary school. I am in complete awe because not only is he wearing two hats, but he's dragging that backpack around like a pet. He comes bebopping down the hill and right as I meet him, his wheels catch in the break in the side walk and he loses control of his backpack. I look over in horror as that shit comes careening onto my side of the walkway, effectively cutting my shins out from under me. Immediately after contact my anger rose and I forgot all about my future children. I caused a small scene when I yelled at him and told him to "PUT A DAMN LEASH ON THAT THING!" 'Im pretty sure God will forgive me, though because really.. Who has rolling backpacks?
If that was the end of my strange week I would have been fine, but sadly.. It wasn't. In one of my classes, I sit beside this girl who I thought was just really nice. We talked some and then she started playing with my keys and doodling stuff on my paper.. That was a little weird, but I didn't think much of it. And then she runs her fingers through my hair. Let me be clear here. We're not even on a first name basis. I can only refer to her as this girl in my class because I don't fucking know her name. And she is running her fingers through my hair, poking me in the sides and telling me she loves my handwriting. I don't know for sure, I mean.. She may just be lacking acceptable social skills.. But something about her mustache tells me that there could be a little flirting being directed towards me. Don't get me wrong, I love gay people. They are wonderful and I wish I had a pocket sized gay friend to take shopping with me all the time, but I'm all about penises and I don't know how to handle this situation. At all.
I have a feeling it's going to be a long, long semester.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Ron White ain't got shit on me.
The past two weeks have been a new kind of hell for me. I cannot begin to explain how much I loathe the car dealership near my house. It is unbelievable. But the story can't start here. It has to start at the beginning of my driving career for you all to understand that I have the shittiest luck known to man.
My first car was an '05 Ford Mustang. I loved it more than anything. Two weeks after I got my license I was in a car accident with a cop. A fucking cop.
Two months later: I was in an accident with a Toyota.
Three months later: A school bus pulled out in front of me. I ran up under the back end going 50 miles an hour, totaling my car.
Then I got a '97 4-Runner. I backed into a pipe, blowing off my rear tire.
Two weeks later I was in the drive thru at Wendy's and my car started squealing and smoking. A belt had fallen off in my engine, ending my air conditioning forever. This occurred on what had to be the busiest day that Wendy's has ever had. There was probably 50 faces plastered to the window watching my car blow out smoke.
I began college. My mom let me drive her Taurus because it had better gas mileage. I still wanted my 4-Runner and was planning on driving it once I returned home. I pulled into my driveway on my first day of summer and there was a new 4-Runner sitting there. My mom had traded in my car WITHOUT telling me and gotten her a new one. I was furious and I wanted a jeep. My dad said to give him a little while and we would get one. And here is where our story starts.
The 4-Runner that my mom purchased from the dealership near my home lasted about two weeks before it had to go back in the shop. They said they fixed it. She drove it and the day after she got it back and broke down on the side of the road. She sent it back to the dealership, got it back, and broke down on the side of the road again. They gave us a rental. The rental wouldn't start. We got the 4-Runner back. Broke down AGAIN the day before we were supposed to go on vacation. They gave us another rental. It broke down on the way home from Florida. You know that story. My mom got her car back again, and it broke down in the middle of the road. She narrowly avoided getting smashed by two cars. She decided she wasn't keeping it. We traded in her car and my car at the same time.
I got a really awesome '05 Jeep Wrangler. It had a 4" lift, subwoofers, 28,000 miles. It was incredible. I loved it so much. I had that fucking thing 17 hours. Let me repeat that. I had that Jeep 17 hours before I was riding down the road and had to pull over because the entire steering column was shaking like a fucking earthquake. It had what is called the "Death Wobble." We sent it back to the dealership. This was on a Saturday. Guess who fucking knew about it having the death wobble before they sold it to us? THEY DID. The guy that sold it to us played dumb and said he didn't know about it. Okay, whatever. They ordered the part. My jeep sat out there until Friday before they even looked at it. They said they ran into another problem and needed to get another part, but they would have that by Monday. Monday rolled around. They didn't buy the part because it was expensive. My dad went out and raised hell. They got around to working on it again and put smaller tires on it to see if that was part of the problem. Some low-life, son of a bitch, fucking MINDLESS MORON FORGOT TO TIGHTEN THE FUCKING LUGNUTS ON MY LEFT REAR WHEEL. They were test driving it and MY LEFT REAR WHEEL FELL OFF. IT FUCKING FELL THE FUCK OFF. THEY TURNED MY JEEP INTO A TRIPOD. I thought Ron White was kidding when he was telling that joke on stage, but apparently PEOPLE ACTUALLY FORGET TO TIGHTEN LUGNUTS. They drove 30 feet with my shocks driving the ground. My dad just so happened to be driving through town and see it sitting on the side of the road WITH THREE TIRES. He immediately warped his ass into the parking lot and told them he wasn't keeping it anymore. They gave him a 4 door jeep and said for us to look at it. It was a stock '07 with 40,000 miles on it. Nothing special. They wanted 26,000 for it. My cousin bought her '07 with bigger tires and chrome wheels BRAND NEW for a thousand more. So I have officially been carless for 13 days. I move into college on Tuesday. I don't know what I'm going to do, but if you guys hear a story about a car dealership and an arsonist don't say anything about me. I don't even know what to say. I hate them. I hate them so much. This has been the most unbelievable, ridiculous, shitty two weeks imaginable.
I'll let you guys know when I get a jeep. I expect it to be around December. Fuck car dealerships.
My first car was an '05 Ford Mustang. I loved it more than anything. Two weeks after I got my license I was in a car accident with a cop. A fucking cop.
Two months later: I was in an accident with a Toyota.
Three months later: A school bus pulled out in front of me. I ran up under the back end going 50 miles an hour, totaling my car.
Then I got a '97 4-Runner. I backed into a pipe, blowing off my rear tire.
Two weeks later I was in the drive thru at Wendy's and my car started squealing and smoking. A belt had fallen off in my engine, ending my air conditioning forever. This occurred on what had to be the busiest day that Wendy's has ever had. There was probably 50 faces plastered to the window watching my car blow out smoke.
I began college. My mom let me drive her Taurus because it had better gas mileage. I still wanted my 4-Runner and was planning on driving it once I returned home. I pulled into my driveway on my first day of summer and there was a new 4-Runner sitting there. My mom had traded in my car WITHOUT telling me and gotten her a new one. I was furious and I wanted a jeep. My dad said to give him a little while and we would get one. And here is where our story starts.
The 4-Runner that my mom purchased from the dealership near my home lasted about two weeks before it had to go back in the shop. They said they fixed it. She drove it and the day after she got it back and broke down on the side of the road. She sent it back to the dealership, got it back, and broke down on the side of the road again. They gave us a rental. The rental wouldn't start. We got the 4-Runner back. Broke down AGAIN the day before we were supposed to go on vacation. They gave us another rental. It broke down on the way home from Florida. You know that story. My mom got her car back again, and it broke down in the middle of the road. She narrowly avoided getting smashed by two cars. She decided she wasn't keeping it. We traded in her car and my car at the same time.
I got a really awesome '05 Jeep Wrangler. It had a 4" lift, subwoofers, 28,000 miles. It was incredible. I loved it so much. I had that fucking thing 17 hours. Let me repeat that. I had that Jeep 17 hours before I was riding down the road and had to pull over because the entire steering column was shaking like a fucking earthquake. It had what is called the "Death Wobble." We sent it back to the dealership. This was on a Saturday. Guess who fucking knew about it having the death wobble before they sold it to us? THEY DID. The guy that sold it to us played dumb and said he didn't know about it. Okay, whatever. They ordered the part. My jeep sat out there until Friday before they even looked at it. They said they ran into another problem and needed to get another part, but they would have that by Monday. Monday rolled around. They didn't buy the part because it was expensive. My dad went out and raised hell. They got around to working on it again and put smaller tires on it to see if that was part of the problem. Some low-life, son of a bitch, fucking MINDLESS MORON FORGOT TO TIGHTEN THE FUCKING LUGNUTS ON MY LEFT REAR WHEEL. They were test driving it and MY LEFT REAR WHEEL FELL OFF. IT FUCKING FELL THE FUCK OFF. THEY TURNED MY JEEP INTO A TRIPOD. I thought Ron White was kidding when he was telling that joke on stage, but apparently PEOPLE ACTUALLY FORGET TO TIGHTEN LUGNUTS. They drove 30 feet with my shocks driving the ground. My dad just so happened to be driving through town and see it sitting on the side of the road WITH THREE TIRES. He immediately warped his ass into the parking lot and told them he wasn't keeping it anymore. They gave him a 4 door jeep and said for us to look at it. It was a stock '07 with 40,000 miles on it. Nothing special. They wanted 26,000 for it. My cousin bought her '07 with bigger tires and chrome wheels BRAND NEW for a thousand more. So I have officially been carless for 13 days. I move into college on Tuesday. I don't know what I'm going to do, but if you guys hear a story about a car dealership and an arsonist don't say anything about me. I don't even know what to say. I hate them. I hate them so much. This has been the most unbelievable, ridiculous, shitty two weeks imaginable.
I'll let you guys know when I get a jeep. I expect it to be around December. Fuck car dealerships.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
'MERICA
Sports have been the foundation of my life, so it is no surprise that my family takes the Olympics very seriously. I don't care what sport it is, I'll be watching with great interest and excitement, because America, you guys. But my excitement doesn't hold a candle to my Dad. You know all those crazed fans you hear about? That's my dad. Let me see if I can put this into perspective for you all.
Once, my dad went to a Clemson game with some of his friends. Things got exciting and my dad came down with the hammer (the hammer is sort of similar to watching a person crank a weed eater) while screaming "YEAH BOY!" and he clocked the lady sitting in front of him in the back of the head. It knocked her out. Let me repeat that. My dad punched a lady in the back of the head and it KNOCKED HER OUT. She spent the rest of the game curled up in her seat, crying. My dad doesn't even like Clemson. He LOVES America. This is serious.
Last night my uncle was in a car accident. We were waiting in the emergency room and Katie Ledecky, the 15 year old swimmer began her race. The first 700 meters were spent making comments on her age and whether we thought she could keep the world record pace. The last 100 meters were spent with me hiding my face in horror as my dad stood up and chanted "GO, GO, GO, GO, GO!" Nurses were scowling. Patients were staring. Babies started crying. And these are at public places. So you can only imagine what it's like in the privacy of our house when people like Michael Phelps get to going.
I love the Olympics. My dad clearly loves the Olympics. I'm just glad they only come around every four years because I have to recuperate from his excitement. His favorite event is track and field which has just started. Wish me luck. It's going to get dangerous.
Once, my dad went to a Clemson game with some of his friends. Things got exciting and my dad came down with the hammer (the hammer is sort of similar to watching a person crank a weed eater) while screaming "YEAH BOY!" and he clocked the lady sitting in front of him in the back of the head. It knocked her out. Let me repeat that. My dad punched a lady in the back of the head and it KNOCKED HER OUT. She spent the rest of the game curled up in her seat, crying. My dad doesn't even like Clemson. He LOVES America. This is serious.
Last night my uncle was in a car accident. We were waiting in the emergency room and Katie Ledecky, the 15 year old swimmer began her race. The first 700 meters were spent making comments on her age and whether we thought she could keep the world record pace. The last 100 meters were spent with me hiding my face in horror as my dad stood up and chanted "GO, GO, GO, GO, GO!" Nurses were scowling. Patients were staring. Babies started crying. And these are at public places. So you can only imagine what it's like in the privacy of our house when people like Michael Phelps get to going.
I love the Olympics. My dad clearly loves the Olympics. I'm just glad they only come around every four years because I have to recuperate from his excitement. His favorite event is track and field which has just started. Wish me luck. It's going to get dangerous.
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