Archive for the ‘On romance’ Category

Amnesia
April 14, 2009

I need to vent these three things:

1. My patchouli soap makes me smell like bootie. It seemed innocuous in the packaging but every morning I wander around hoping no one tries to determine the exact location of that faintly “unwashed” smell. And, I’m too cheap to throw it out.

2. At some point I accidently forgot that Every Single Guy (double meaning there) I know is a musician. Or refers to themselves as one, making the Performing Arts the single most over represented, and under appreciated career choice in this great state. Please, for the love of all that is decent and acceptable, stop pretending that your pipe dreams of being a rock star are in any way achievable (or even desired by anyone who has heard you play or sing anything, ever. ) and get a real job.

3. Someone that I work with appears to have amnesia, as well as the Master Key to the school house that the entire staff has been searching for, for roughly seven months. This someone also seems to forget that all of the Good Art Supplies went missing before I showed up to teach, and wants me to produce supplies that haven’t been in the Art Room for over three years. It amazes me on a daily basis, but today. Today it just irritated me. 

Now I tell you the reason for my venting: I set an alarm clock ambush for myself this morning, and then promptly forgot about it. That is until I had submarines, and Harry Potter and Johnnie Cochran all comin’ at me from different angles, and I spontaneously combusted in a nervous sweat all over my bedroom. It’s enough to make you cry. I think I did.

I’ve been thinking about what Sarah said
June 24, 2008

She said that in her Development of Human Psychology class (I think that’s what it was called), she learned that women tend to think they are less good looking than they really are, and men tend to think they are much better looking than they really are. I think this is probably somewhat true. I think I am not that good looking, and some guys thinks I am hot, and some don’t. I don’t think I am empirically good looking, but the point is-I know lots of guys that think they look better than they do. Plus, I know lots of girls that want these guys that aren’t quite as good looking as they carry themselves.

No big deal. Usually, I can’t stand good looking guys because they are such douche bags, or perhaps just incredibly vain. Typically in the past I’ve gone for some fairly gnarly looking fellas, so it stands to reason that I have deigned myself a female that is “impervious to good looks”…..

Cuz you’re a rich little bitch and your mom will buy you a new one
May 23, 2008

Tear down the steps to my tree house, and I will rip the heart right outta your chest. I should have known that someone who could write these lyrics would not be nice enough to deal with me-catchy though.

If I ever get a tattoo, which i prolly won’t, it will be of a tree. That is all.

Who said this: “Daniel broke the king’s decree, Peter stepped from the ship to the sea, there was hope for Job like a cut down tree, i hope that there’s such hope for me”???

At the Attic I pooped and then found out there was no toliet paper. I amaze myself with my resourcefulness, lets keep it at that.

I told one of my students that his name is over 4oo years old.
February 13, 2008

So in the interesting of finding out whether the story of Tristan and Isolt was half as gay as the picture show, I decided to judge a book by its cover just the other day (which is something I do with shocking regularity by the by) and picked it up at the local lib-ary.

I am pleased to announce that it-thus far-has been way less gayness. Which isn’t a real sentence. Anyhoo, I started reading it this morning instead of taking a shower which means I am now rocking the ” I know you did not wear that hair today” look. In the interest of solidarity and fighting for the rights of a hithertofor ridiculous story I would like to type for you an excerpt to prove its enduring awesomeness:

” And Tristan regathered his strength and raised his sword and struck the serpent. But he found its hide so hard that he could not make the sword penetrate. Then he struck again with a thrusting blow. And the serpent came at him with its maw gaping to eat him. And Tristan saw it and shoved the sword down its throat and into its belly and cut it open from heart to belly in two pieces. And then the serpent lay dead. And Tristan cut out its tongue and shoved it into his breeches. Then he departed, but he had hardly gone a step when he fell to the ground as though dead, on account of the venom of the serpent’s tongue that he had in his breeches.”