Friday, August 29, 2008

Schools a raunchy bitch

So this is your favorite writer once again. Recently school started for Nolan, Kimber, and I. We're all going to this butt school called UVU. Kimber is also going to another butt school called BYU butt that's another story that she can tell.
Anyways, I think the only program this butt school is good for is their nursing program. Butt none of us are doing nursing. We're too ambitious and lazy for that. From what I know Kimber is becoming an english major, Nolan is doing theatre and I am doing art and visual communications. UVU is full of retards, butt the real problem is that Kimber and I signed up for this Graphic Novel class that we thought would be fun. We went to class and the professor showed us all what a rust stained asshole he was by treating us like we were still in middle school.
The other good thing about UVU is the cheap tuition.
I'm done writing.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Yeah for Sleep Problems

I'd like to start this blog by saying that I think "yeah" should be spelled "yea". I think people don't do that because it looks too biblical, however, when it's written "yeah" I always pronounce it like "yeah, man, that's a good idea", whereas most people mean it to be pronounced like "yeah, I didn't get a speeding ticket". Small potatoes, I know, but it still bothers me.

Anywho, I wanted to whine about text book prices and the cost of schooling, but I have a headache from listening to too much ABBA, so I think I'll just whine about things in general instead. My whining will be less clever than it usually is because it's very cold where I'm sitting, so I can't concentrate properly. Here goes.

I've never been a very devoted student, but luckily I'm blessed with enough smarts to be able to skate by most of college. However, this has gotten me less than desirable results in the past, so this year I decided to buckle down and really work to improve myself and educate my mind and be the hope of the future and all that stuff. For whatever reason, this resolve (as opposed to all the other, numerous, previous ones) has gone to my head, or my heart, or whatever part of me really controls things (probably my appendix, you only thought it was useless), and has started to mess with my sleeping habits. I now find it impossible to fall asleep any sooner than five in the morning without medicinal aid (my grandma shared her sleeping pills with me. Now if only I can convince her to give up some of the Vicodin). The more I worry about things, the harder it is for me to fall asleep. The real stickler is that no matter how little I worry about things, the harder it is for me to fall asleep. The icing on the cake is that once I finally do fall asleep, I stay asleep for twelve to fifteen hours.

By the way, Nolan and Devin, I've been a super flake lately because of these sleeping problems. I apologize for standing you up so much.

I think I'll solve these problems by placing alarm clocks in my kitchen (that forces me to get far away from my bed to turn off the annoying buzzing), possibly practicing meditation to calm my nerves, and asking my doctor for horse tranquilizers to help me sleep. He'll probably give them to me too, he's medication happy, though his butch nurse makes it almost impossible to see him if one is more than two minutes late, which I invariably am.

That ends my rant on that. Time to begin another.

People, please stop trying to set me up with someone. I am perfectly capable of finding my own mate, I don't need your help. Most of the "friends" that are trying to help me find eternal companionship and bliss are themselves married, and so I have the hinting suspicion that they might have forgotten how fun it is to be single. Really, I don't have to share my Oreos, the remote control, or my bed. The last one is a little unexciting at times, but I'm willing to cope in favor of complete sovereignty of the other two.

Issue Three: Who the hell keeps getting me sick? I swear, since I stopped substitute teaching I haven't come into contact with sick people, yet I keep getting sick. Because I'm not getting enough sleep, as before explained, it takes me a month to recover each time, which is a royal pain in the butt. I'm not saying sick people should become hermits, but I do think they should take care to cover their mouths (with the crook of your arm, you idiots, it doesn't do any good to cough into your hand and then touch things with the same hand you protected them with from your cough) and wash their hands often. Let's all work together on this, please.

Here's a picture for no reason at all.

It's my Uncle's Corvette, which I probably won't inherit, because though his current marriage is childless and I am their favorite of their nieces and nephews, he has a daughter from a previous marriage. Boo.

Good bye.