Rock is dead. Long live paper and scissors.

There is a guy in my class who I'm positive has not been there for the last three months.  Normally I wouldn't notice or care, but there's something special about this one.  This guy's BO was inhuman.  Like the kind that could take down a tyrannosaurus rex.  Honestly bathing in Axe would be an improvement for him.  I don't know how to subtly convey my opinion, but if it doesn't change I'll probably just resort to a foghorn and a large sign.

It's official.  If you are a single male living alone, there is absolutely no reason whatsoever to buy cups.  There's no one there to care if you drink straight out of everything.  I'm actually thinking about selling them.

Here is my version of Heaven:

-In Heaven, it will only take one paper towel to completely dry your hands.

-In Heaven, pencil lead will never break.

-In Heaven, the remote will always be on the table in front of the television.

-In Heaven, fast food establishments will never get your order wrong or forget the extra ranch.

-In Heaven, there is no such thing as a stubbed toe.

-In Heaven, you cannot burn toast, and Hot Pockets come in tolerable temperatures.

-In Heaven, football is always on TV, and all commercials are Superbowl quality.

-In Heaven, there are no baggage fees on airplanes.

Here's an interesting Tab Fact:  What music I listen to directly relates to how fast I get to class.  I leave every morning 15 minutes before class, but my arrival varies.  If it's blues or slow music, I'm about five minutes late.  If it's rock or hip hop, I'm on time.  If it's swing, pop, or dubstep, I get there five minutes before I left.

I'm not sure how I feel about college students or above wearing their high school letter jackets.  I mean, I guess technically it's okay if it fits, but from my perspective, the older that you get the farther away your letter jacket should be.  It just starts looking more and more pitiful as the years progress.  It was high school, and it was a long time ago.  Let it go.

The other day I was watching an episode of Community, one of NBC's Thursday lineup and my personal favorite.  At the end of each episode there is a minute or so where two of the characters just be weird.  This particular show, the ending literally made me hysterical with laugher.  I actually cried.  Anyway, what I realized is that when we think something is comical, we chuckle.  When something is humorous, we laugh.  But when we think something is hilarious, I've discovered that we start laughing so hard that we stop actually making noise and start to resemble a retarded clapping seal.

Definition of the Day:  Suburbs (n)- Where they rip out the trees and name the streets after them.

Shout out to Kasey Krist.