I Smell Beans

Let’s do this thing! Yeah, so I kinda let the whole updating thing slip again. I know, I know. I have a responsibility of bringing the sunshine into your life each and everyday, but sometimes life gets a little crazy. And since this is now an official blog, I guess I am obligated to tell you all the deep and dark secrets that reside in my little candy valentine heart… Whoa, stay clear of that close button there buddy! I was only joking. Come on, I totally know you have more important things to do than that, and so do I… I just rather not do them.

So what happened since my last little update? Oh yeah, that whole election of a president thing went down. I’ll steer clear of the whole partisan aspect of that event and only share with you my reaction of the day after (like two weeks late, I know). Wow, people can get really depressed, and especially at Albright. I don’t think I’ve ever seen more of my professors with a look of “I’ve just been kicked in the nuts” than that day. I actually was in a state of laughter for like two days following that. Plus I was getting pretty tired of them shoving Kerry all up in my face with their 24 foot billboards and John and Johnson underwear, so I am glad something shut them up. Needless to say, I am reminded of a quote from Fry on Futurama when he said people don’t want changes and plot twists, they want the same old thing they’ve seen everyday. And so it is, and I for one feel at ease because of it.

Here’s some interesting news for those of you who know me and are into machines that lurk in my woods. Oh, that’s right. It’s back, that rugged beast of a machine with more than 280,000 miles on it — the Poop Trooper! In case you aren’t in what I like to call the Joelika Circle of Trust, my very first car was a 1990 brown Isuzu Trooper and I’ve recently had the urge to resurrect it from the rusty hunk of steel that sat in my woods. Why? Well, I guess it is sorta like when you visit your old elementary school and you have that bright idea to go down the old playground slide, until you realize that is really only two feet high, and your bombossity now has a giant blister… What? You can’t tell me I am the only person that’s happened to.

I should be updating later this week. I just remembered I went to New York last week (yeah, I have no idea), so I guess I will fill you in on that. Because you are dying to know… and it will kill you (even if you voted). Until then, keep up the Underground America, 1999.

trackback | permalinkComments Feed

Comments are closed.