A professor is simply one who talks in someone else’s sleep.

Who's ready for school to start?!?!  If you answered "yes" then slap yourself.  If you answered "no", congratulations on not being stupid.  At one point, I was delirious enough to actually think I was "ready for school start", that I was "ready for a routine".  All it took was fifteen minutes in front of my computer to fix that.  I might be an anomaly, but just making my schedule was enough for me to start craving winter break.  (Then again, I am the kind of student who gets "senioritis" in sixth grade.)

Last night, during an epic showing of Kung Fu Panda with some of my dearest relations, we stumbled upon an important bit of information.  Some, if not all, of you might already be enlightened to this fact, but for those of you who aren't, I must forewarn you of one of the most overlooked yet traumatizing dangers of the modern world: Hot Tamales.  Yea, those seemingly delicious bits of cinnamon goodness have a secret: they're deadly.  Have one? Delicious.  A second? Amazing. Third, fourth fifth, even a sixth? Better and better.  The seventh? All of a sudden you are part dragon, spewing fire out of your mouth and trying not to incinerate everything and everyone around you.   Your mind races, thinking "Why would any human create something like this?!"  Eventually the misery ends, and our pitiful human minds decide we'll give them another shot.  Now if only I could stop eating them....

So I know I'm probably the six millionth person to vent about this, but I promise I'll keep it short.  There are certain things in this world that really make me question the IQ of humanity.  Things such as the Pet Rock, the Shake Weight, or in this case, Snuggies.  To keep it simple, I'm going to now tell you how to make your very own Snuggie: (Preemptive apology for language, please censor for small children)

Step 1: Take a thin, cheap robe. ( Not plush, maybe made of something crappy, I don't know...felt?)

Step 2: Turn it around.

Step 3: Slam your head against the wall for being a damn idiot and buying a Snuggie.

I'm starting to notice things about my typing skills.  I type exactly how they say not to.  That means hunched over, pecking with single fingers (what is "home row"?), staring straight down at the keyboard, and only looking at the screen every three or four sentences.  Also, I have a very articulate vocabulary, but apparently, when it comes to typing, I adopt some form of stage 2 dyslexia.  Long story short, Hooked on Phonics = Waste of Money.

Can somebody please explain to me the logic behind both Daylight Savings Time and/or the Income Tax?

I want to get a helicopter with one of those huge buckets that they use to extinguish forest fires, fill it with red paint, and literally paint a town red.  Just once before I die.  Probably later on in life, cause I'm pretty sure I'm gonna go to jail afterwards. Miiiiiiiight be considered a tad bit of vandalism.

Shout out to everyone in the world except Thomas Grap.