Celcius 232.778: the sequel to Fahrenheit 451

Let’s see, I’ve brought you all up to speed on how I got here, now let’s catch up to where I am.

I am 49 minutes away from my first class right now. It should be my second, but I’m not really in the first class and I thought I’d stick out fairly obviously in a classroom of only four people.

• My first day was quite fun, we went around and did stuff at the mall.
• The second day was more fun as I got my luggage (finally!) and spent most of the time alone.
• The third day was orientation which was both hilarious and long. That night we went out to a bar. … yey… how exciting.
• Thr third day sucked, but I got loads done and we went down to the docks
• The fourth day we went surfing at Manly beach. That was alright.
• The fifth day we went out on our own to a bar, got in trouble for saying the phrase “when it pops out of its mom’s twat” and I hit on a cute Australian girl.
• Yesterday, I hung out at home and the mall mostly.

There, I think we’re caught up now.

And now, more wit from my little black book:

1: Are you coming out tonight?
2: No, I’m straight.

–

I eat caviar, crumpets, smoke a pipe, and sip wine with a crazy straw.

Next time: something original.

| 1 Comment

This is the story…

Well, I managed to alienate my flatmates in one day. A new record.If you’d like pictures of what I’m living in, peruse my roommate’s site or just go here.

Speaking of which, allow me to give you a quick rundown on my current mates:

Trumpet Rob Troyan, whom I knew before I arrived. He’s a 5′11″ Pennsylvania native who likes to paintball, play the trumpet (who here was surprised by that? Admit it now or forever hide your ignorance), and be nice to girls.

Yelizaveta Bachko (pronounced: Lee-za), whose name I need to learn how to spell and/or pronounce. She’s a 4′11″ (note: all people shorter than me are instantly 4′11″ in my eyes) Russian-borne New Jerseyite with a flair for sarcasm and a razor-sharp wit. And before anybody makes that pun, yes, we’re all living on edge.

Jess Levy, who’s a soft-spoken, blond New Jerseyite majoring in Psychology who’s been super nice to me (perhaps out of fear? I mean, it did take her a while to get used to my sense of humor). She’s also attempted to not eat meat around me (and failed miserably. Hey, vegetarianism is hard).

I’d post pictures of us all, but I’ve yet to be able to access the internet on my own computer. I’ve also yet to call my parents or my friends. I hope they don’t think I’m dead…

| 2 Comments

Goodie Grab Bag II

(Humor knows only the bounds of this little black book)

1: I’ve seen an opera.
2: Did you like it?
1: Sort of. I kept expecting a fat lady, though.
2: There was no fat lady?
1: No, all of the singers were medium-weight.
2: Then how did you know it was over?

–

It’s colder than the vagina monologues

–

1: What’s your name?
2: Kathleen.
1: Kathleen what?
2: No, just Kathleen.

–

Quick-fire comebacks:
1: I’m dating myself
2: Nobody else would have you, eh?
3: Well, someone had to do it.
4: Bring two condoms, I hear you’re a slut.
5: I haven’t dated myself in a while, it’s cheaper just to pay for sex.
6: Oh, come on! You could do better than yourself!
2: Yeah, but he can’t.
6: Good point.

–

I never commit to anything… that is, I usually don’t commit to anything.

–

2: Just once, I want to see an elimination movie where I don’t know who’s going to survive at the end.
1: Yeah. Like the black guy.
2: Whoa, whoa, whoa. The world’s not ready for a black guy to survive a whole movie.

–

1: Are you okay? You seem depressed.
2: You’re projecting your emotions onto me. It’s okay, everyone does it.
1: Oh.
2: Are you coming on to me?

–

1: I suck at surfing. I suck at all sports, really
2: Why?
1: I kept falling.
2: Well, as long as you don’t suck at skydiving.

–

I can stand on a surfboard, just not in water.

–

1: What math are you in?
2: 4.
1: Ha! So am I!

–

2: Aren’t there any other positions we could be in?
1: Are you coming on to me?
2: Not yet, no.

–

2: I tried committing suicide once. I sat at the edge of my bed for hours, just contemplating a bottle of pills I had in my hand.
1: And you couldn’t do it?
2: Nah, they were Flintstone’s Vitamins.

–

2: My father left before he could teach me how to shave.
1: Oh…
2: Yeah, he’s been gone for a year now..

| No Comments

Cover Letter for a Non-Paying Job

To Whom it May Concern,

I received my Ph.D. in Phrenological Psychology from Amsterdam University in 1993. After that, I opened an independent practice where I promptly drew criticisms for my support of eugenics in primates (Eugenic Nullification, I called it).

When my practice failed, I took up a job in the circus. That’s right: I took tickets for a living.

Despite this minor setback, I managed to get a job dispensing advice for Panther Tracks in 1998. Slightly before the publication folded, I went to work for a local newsletter and transferred to Carver’s BT in March of 2001. It was there where I experienced the life-changing divorce that made me a Taoist.
Since then, I’ve welcomed my readers with the various mini-adventures that I’ve undertaken including reading an encyclopedia, eating a restaurant, divorcing 2.5 women, voting for Badnarik, exposing my rabid bias against tall people, and convincing them all that they share my deep-running lime-green state values.
I’m a multi-lingual Dutch-Canadian who knows all about psychotic disorders through first, third, and fourth-hand experiences. I have a Bachelor’s in Cross-Gendered Studies and have run into every problem humans have many times over. Furthermore, as I hate most humans, I am the perfect person to tell them what to do.

Qualifications to actually give advice come from years of earning trust and living wisely. Since I’m a psychologist and don’t have the time to do this with every patient, I make up for it by keeping all of my degrees displayed prominently (and polishing them every fortnight). People usually ask me silly questions and I respond in kind, but when someone has a serious problem, I am as serious as a non-silly bout of cancer.

| No Comments

B’Day, Mate…

So how ’bout I’m in Sydney, Australia eating “Potato Gems.” In case you’ve never been particularly fond of potato products, these are just poorly made tator tots.

Yeah, life’s interesting.

Allow me to give you a point by point (using points and points) account of my life thus far:

• Flight left at 3:10
• Mother cried tears of anger and of disillusionment with her son
• Singled out for baggage inspection
• Arrive in Phoenix
• Seal on new plane broken, likely to be delays
• Hanging out at airport
• 1 hour delay
• 2 hour delay
• 3 hour delay
• “Folks, I apologize for the inconvenience, but Flight 32 has been canceled, if you’ll just go to the customer service center, an America West representative will assist you with your travels.”
• Waiting in line
• More waiting in line
• Screw this, go back to terminal and explain problem to the lady
• “Okay, you’re on Flight 35 now, which leaves out of gate 23B in five minutes. So if I were you, I’d run.”
• RUN!!! Continue reading B’Day, Mate……

  
  | 1 Comment

  ---