So... I've already fucked up school in a minor way. It took me three weeks this time for things to start falling apart though, so there's some progress. It's actually not too bad. I'm supposed to be keeping a journal and writing one page entires five days a week about things that happen in class, responses to readings, etc. To say I have not done this fifteen times would be kind. The journals were collected today, and I tallied up THREE whole entires. That's right, kids. I'll do better next time. The good part is, each journal collection is a whopping 2% of my grade, so as long as I get it in gear, I'll be okay.
I have to cut a page and a half of my personal narrative by Monday. I hate editing.
Cody will cry wine cooler tinged tears into his baby blue kerchief if I don't give him some sort of mention. He and I are keeping tracks of RAW and Smackdown records this year because we're nerds. Shelton Benjamin is 3-1! Goooooo Mama Benjamin~!
Cody went on a magical mystery tour DATE PARTY~! with the rest of his frat (and some girls, in theory), and they ended up in NASHVILLE. That's right. Why? Who the fuck knows. These people have entirely too much time on their hands. You can't move out of that house soon enough for my tastes, Code Man.
(Pause for an "Uncle Frank" joke)
Moving right along to pressing matters... I need a signature drink. Something called the NapDaddy. I'll be thinking about this one. Praying on it.
Wilson Pickett had a heart attack and died. As soon as I heard that news, I put on a CD and listened to "In the Midnight Hour" about ten times. Very, very sad.
Did anyone read about the Applebee's in Manhattan serving a Long Island Iced Tea to a 5 year old? That's so rad.
Alright, I've gotta run. It's been real.