I find that almost all generalizations are false.
I also find it very ironic that I saw a Snorkle on a Land Rover the other day.
I would like to proudly claim that I have officially found the easiest class in all of college: History of Motorsports. Hold your horses though, cause I know you already have an idea of how easy you think it is. Do me a favor, however easy your perception was, quadruple that. Then multiply that by 62. First off, the class is taught by Duke Buzza (yes, seriously), a man who I'm convince is the redneck brother of Albus Dumbledore. Duke has three things that really make him stand out as a winner in my book: 1- He refuses to fail anyone, 2- He gives out Snickers in class as rewards (welcome back to kindergarden), and 3- He loves NASCAR (vomit). Anyway, "The Buzz Saw" as I like to call him, has decreed that during the semester there will be 3 quizzes and 1 final exam. If you decide not to take any of these, but still make it to every class (it's a once a week class), then you will receive a C. Legit. I can literally show up to class, and not take a single quiz or even the final, and still pass the class. This is how I want life to be. Furthermore, The Buzz Saw doesn't like words. How do I mean? I'm talking like every quiz/exam is made up of multiple choice PICTURES. When he dropped this nugget of information on me I actually got choked up. Needless to say, this will be the most valuable class in my entire college career, and I am more than happy to suffer through it. Side note: I have reason to believe that two of my classmates are actually members of ZZ Top.
While we're on the topic of schooling, I have come to realize that taking a year off of school has some repercussions. Besides the obvious, I have noticed that not only does my hand get tired after approximately six words, but my handwriting has regressed to that of 1st grader with random hand spasms.
Blue Jolly Ranchers may be the greatest achievement of all humanity.
So last night, me and a few friends were graced by one of their brother's connections. For privacy's sake, I will call the brother "Okobojo". Anyway, so Okobojo now manages a new club/restaurant in San Diego, The Beachwood. To start, the Beachwood is incredible. Okobojo comped all drinks and services, roughly amounting to the price of a small airplane. We had our own personal bouncer and bartender who catered our bottle service. I don't want to say it went to my head at all, but I may have started telling people I was Johnny Depp's younger brother and that I was on "Forbe's Top 100". Besides getting felt up by a 35 year old, and some people that "get a little jealous sometimes" (inside joke and you're not cool enough to know), it was a relatively calm night. Actually that's a bold faced lie, but I'm not going to elaborate on a public website. Stop trying to poke your nose into other people social lives. You disgust me.
A guy I know, let's call him "Herald", wants to start an underwater minigolf course and name it "Sub Par". I want to start a carpet selling business called "Carpet Diem" with the slogan "Seize the Rug!". Me and Herald would have the punniest businesses ever.
Saw a bumper sticker the other day that said "Only God can judge Osama and Hussein, but it's our job to arrange to the meeting."
Animal of the day: Horse
Shout out to Peter Grap.