MC Jake (thecatalyst) wrote,
MC Jake

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Brett Ratner Blows Ass And Is Pretty Much The Worst Director Ever

I’m not exactly sure why I decided that taking a spring class was the most effective use of my time. The hours, while manageable, are beginning to dig into my schedule that was previously reserved for any and all forms of substance abuse. Remember that time that I ignored a class pre-requisite and ended up in a film class that sounds like its being taught in BINARY because everyone talks in abbreviations and inflects their voices so they sound just pretentious enough to remind people that they are in fact film majors and also that they hate me?

To remedy this situation I decided to smoke before my class movie screening tonight. I basically ended up leaving midway because I had seriously out of control munchies and kept dozing off for 15-minute increments. I returned with red eyes, a sandwich, and a blissful unawareness of the stares that came from all around the room.

There are the hardened remnants of a plastic straw stuck to my porch, which may or may not be related to the event in which Jason and Ryan decided to light straws on fire, in effect splattering hot plastic onto Ryan’s flesh.

I have a job now, meaning I spend 9 leisurely hours out in the sun, sort of doing yard work and sort of taking advantage of my aunt and uncle. While Boo and I were mulching, Cecilia presented us both with safari hats with oversized fake sunflowers glued to the brims. I wore it proudly and have since decided that it is my official yard work war paint.

There was a moment of panic in which I realized, moments before my exam, that I had no flippin clue what a blue book was or why it was necessary for me to purchase one ahead of time. So basically I inspired yet another rousing round of “try and spot the art student”.

There is a 50 year old woman in my class who feels the need to overcompensate for her sagging breasts and failing vision by talking entirely too much and trying to arouse the sexual interest of my professor. I have no words for any situation in which a portly old woman decides to hit on her younger professor, though I guess its better than that school teacher who just married the kid she raped at the tender age of 12.

I’m estimating that I have spent easily $200+ on gas in the past three weeks.

I’m leaving the country in roughly three weeks. As of now, I have no plan, no accommodations, no knowledge of any foreign language that might help me, no money (and the dollar is ruined over there, which is sweet), no idea what I’ll be doing, where exactly I’m going or why it is that I decided that this pilgrimage was so essential in the first place. I’ve considered dying my hair brown and carrying around boxes of matzo in hopes that I can pull off a free trip to Israel, since apparently it’s a Jewish birthright. Whatever.

To make a long, convoluted story short through the use of ambiguous pronouns and vague, cryptic references: A few nights ago, in a drunken haze, I witnessed an event that made me very upset and confused. I ignored it, sought an explanation from someone, and should probably let it go. This summer has consisted of a great deal of moments that are purely “what the fuck?”

Ellen and I had a really overdue conversation on the way to Wixom this past weekend. I think its unfortunate that more people don’t recognize how smart and self-aware she can be. It’s strange that neither one of knew anything about each other back in the days when we actually spent time in O-town. As an aside, Wixom first banned us and then quickly became our temporary residence.

I had a plethora of topics to rant about but I just remembered that the Chili Ellen brought me this weekend is still sitting, uneaten, in the corner of the fridge. This has to be fixed.
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