Je suis un petite fromage
Another late-night post. I gotta stop going to the gym at 10pm. Anyway, I am officially getting rid of a bunch of my shizzle. DVDs, books, clothes, you name it. My eventual goal is to whittle down my crap until I can cram my entire life into a single car (sans the big furniture and appliances).
This is proving surprisingly difficult. I'm a packhound by nature, and while I don't really have a whole lot of stuff, I have a lot of useless crap. For example: about 15 empty spiral-bound notebooks, originally slated to be filled up, by me, with painstaking notes in lectures. They never realized their potential, since I never really took notes, other than drawing pictures of buttholes for Ned's benefit, and making lists of different words for poop (I think we eventually got up to 100, with a little "fudging" -- hehehehe). There is also the occasional page of "DIE REDHEADS DIE," which is an homage to some people in our classes that would ask stupid questions and force us all to cram 2 weeks' coursework into the last week of the quarter. Bitches!
As an aside, I think that could be considered a telling indictment of the UC system's ability to instill maturity and ambition into its students. Either that, or my own ability to be serious... but when one of your best professors is widely known among your circle of study mates as Quasimodo, it has a certain effect on your ability to consider the education process seriously.
Other useless crap:
- 2 old cell phones, which both still work, so I guess they're not completely useless.
- 1 empty can of compressed air, which is supposed to be used for cleaning debris and dust off of stuff. I like turning the can upside down and freezing things.
- Half a prescriptions' worth of 2-year-old Vicodin. I keep them around in case I want to polish them down real small, and fill up someone's Tic-Tac case with them. Just for kicks.
- 3 of those pink erasers. I haven't used a pencil since I took the LSAT, last year. In fact, I'm not even sure I know how to write anymore.
- About a billion computer connectors and cables in a giant duffel bag, left over from my days of uncontrollable techno-lust. Thankfully, I've either outgrown the habit, or I finally realized how much all that crap actually costs, and how little use it actually is. Think of it like a nerdy mid-life crisis. Instead of going out and buying a shiny red sports car, you spend a hellish amount of money on high-end computer parts that become obsolete in 3 months. The most glaring difference, probably, is that the geek method will get you absolutely zero props from the ladies. Me? My computer is roughly analogous to my car, which means it looks like ass, makes funny noises, and is in dire need of a good cleaning, but it gets the job done. I also get no props from women, but at least it's cheap.
- A cleaning kit for 9mm handguns. I don't own a gun.
- A hefty bag full of old receipts, bank statements, etc. Dating back all the way to freshman year of college. I swear, I could probably dig up a Ralph's receipt from 1997.
Okay, let me ask this question of the only person who reads this anymore.
Han, you know those giant fucking bugs that look like huge mosquitoes? I always thought they were "mosquito hawks," and ate mosquitoes, and were otherwise harmless. Ned said that they were horseflies, though, and bite like total bastards. I just slapped the shit out of one that flew too close to me, and I'm wondering if I should be worried about retribution. Get back to me on that one, buddy.