fast food songs

this whole new wave of fast food songs, with special guest appearances from C-list celebs, such as Brooke Burke, for Burger King has really caught/got me off guard...emphasis on the "got me off" portion.

it reminds me, of course, to the good ol' days of fast food marketing songs. for example:
"to all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun." to those of you who can't internally hear the "jingle" of sorts in your head-- i promise you, it's a song. i mean, it's really just a listing of ingredients, but some brilliant man (or woman) managed to doodle up a diddy for it. probably the same brilliant man who writes all of Ashlee Simpson's songs...

but wait. thereshmore! howabout this one:
"hold the pickles, hold the lettuces, special orders don't upset, all we ask is that you let us have it your way...have it your way...have it your way..." this is a burger king song, circa 1997 (i believe)...in fact, i really just made up a date because i wanted to use the word "circa." it seems as though using songs to market your product, particularly fast food, is coming back into the spot light.

in other news, i'm so fucking glad that its fucking thursday...as it officially marks the beginning of my weekend.

and in other, other news, i've been very unimpressed with my hits to the blog. i think i'll need to change the title soon, as i have lost many-a-hit because the search engines have probably realized that my site is not, in fact, XXX free kinky porn XXX. damn you, google...damn you...

you know...i've always depended on the kindness of strangers

to not recount the glorious tales of saturday night would be sacriligious-- but alas! i must...for there is far too much to recount (and it has been far too long since that evening). i do remember staring at my new color changing candle and hitting up Sig Ep for a last hurrah of sorts--since i don't expect to be going out that much from now on.

ha.

sunday, however, was good fun. MMX and i went on the BR trip to NYC to see "A Streetcar Named Desire" starring John C. Reilly ("cellophane man" in the big screen version of Chicago), Natasha Richardson (The Parent Trap, starring L. Lohan before she became Busty Hohan), and John Bauer (you know...the perve in The Devil's Advocate...o yes-- and the perve in 8MM...his repertoire is far too predictable). anywhore, i never saw the movie version, though my mother tells me it was one of my grandparents favoritest movies-- sweet, huh?

but let's be honest. compare John C. Reilly and Marlon Brando in his 20s...is there really much comparison? apparently, the plot is that much more intense when the lead male is hot. but in this case, i missed out on a lot of that intensity. i did, however, catch a lot of the literary symbolism...o~ Tennessee Williams--such poetry...such fluidity! hmm...yes~ *sips glass of red wine*. i left the play feeling very unsettled.

so i drank some jack daniels as soon as i got back.

ha~ no. not really...though i probably should have.

i got back on my running schedule, though i was heaving and ho-ing by the 2nd mile...sucks huh? looks like it'll be a while before i get back to my consistent mileage and i finally get that Anna Nicole Smith body i've been wanting for so long. i'm trying to win the TrimSpaX competition...you know..."because i wanna a hot body...i wanna look like her...i wanna win a ferrari--i want some money!"

in regards to this most classy of comments left on my classy wall:
bitch: why don't you go and suck bianca's tits until they leach shit out of them ..then stick ur cock up her ass and do her lwhile she cums all over u

that is quite disgusting. next time you try to come up with something dirty, at least make it hot and kinky. i mean, bianca's tits don't even "leach" shit out of them-- no matter how hard i suck...and she has hemorrhoids...so sticking my cock up her ass is unfeasible. now that you have greatly embarassed her, PLEASE apologize and take back what you just said.

its time for me to finish my laundry and get some ZZZs.

post-purim depression

phewie! this week has been quite the kadoozie.

what's a kadoozie?

NO! itsakadoozie.

get it? (that was just an excerpt from an early 90s commercial for "Itsakadoozie", which were large, foot-long, twisted popsicles (...or, as Courney Shane ala Jawbreaker would call it: Big Stick) with green, orange, and red stripes. i will admit that i did have my father buy them for our freezer, and i will admit, too, that i was never able to finish the entire box. that was always my deal, you know; telling my dad to buy cereals, chips, ice cream, etc. that i wanted to eat, but i never finished them. yay!)

anywhore, my midterm on wednesday for physics was gang raped by me and my friends as i pummelled the shit out of it. there were no donkey punches or danza slaps (things that i would've preferred), but--alas--i will not be ungrateful! speaking of donkey punches and danza slaps...and strawberry shortcakes and many other ways to disrespect women in the sack...i remember telling these terms at the camp fire while on Harvest, and i really offended our Harvest leader. leave it to Tactless Joe to get the good times goin'!

thursday night was effing wildness...i can't go into too much detail. but i caught an episode of "PoweR Girls", went over to the 12-pack to do my duties (a few notes: A) Don't ask me to help you buy a camera when i am drunk, and get angry when i am unable to answer questions on european addresses B) When you do one line of mint snuff in a nostril, you must have a second line ready for your other nostril-- or it will get jealous C) if i roll a j, i prefer to have some, too, since--you know--i'm kinda the one that rolled it. D) dead mothers--not funny. other than that, 12 pack did exceedingly well for a thursday night--i was suprised that many people showed up to celebrate your birthday, loser. and, suprise suprise, SAE late nite was also a fucking shit show...that included me, not only getting stepped on, but getting poured on, dripped on, among other things. o college! it just wouldn't be the same if i didn't come back home smelling like the Flower Lady! afterwards, i made a gourmet run with some buds, talked about skiing and tokyo, then loafed at home watching: "The Most XXX-Treme" on Animal Planet before going to bed.

friday night was not as much effing wildness, as i had to do a lot more walking. (Happy Greek Independence Day and Happy B-day to Mr. X-tos!) hrm...around 9:30, i made my way down to give a few hellos, smoke a cig, have some champagne and eat some delicious choco cake with nilla icing. dropped by BR Entryway N to say happy b-day to my peeps, Jojo and tuckster. went back to the room to have some paris hilton cocktails (aka Sugar Free Red Bull y Viking Fjord Vodka--the kitsch-est vodka ever!). after getting lost in Silliman, i went with a bunch of peeps including the girls to SY entryway O, where i felt visually molested by too many, scary drama people. needless to say, we left in a heartbeat. bonks and i made our way to the persian party, where i was ditched my british meena (biatch!)...not to mention the fact that the bar was already closed...and over to SAE, which was quite hopping. i had to go back to Silliman, however, to re-check out Prom 2005--where i must give a big shout out to Lars Young, for being the greatest corsage-ist ever! just wait until you start covering them in swarofsky crystals! then you'll be making the real dough! but, as all things end, we all ended up going back to SAE, which was amazingly crowded and doing well for a "Mexican Themed" party. i mean, SAE isn't supposed to be that cool...and it was the second night in a row that people were packing the place. o dingy frat houses-- what more can i say? of course, i made a gor heave run before heading back home to watch Jawbreaker with all the loser sluts still left over in my room...

...and that brings me to today. i've got some diff eq to do, but i must must MUST take a shower first...as that will allow me to procrastinate even more. yay! peace out, bitches.

you put the kitsch in avant garde

hm...the hum drum of sophomore year lulls...

bad news of the day: i had 9 am class and i have a midterm on wednesday
good news of the day: last night, i got to the part in "Memoirs of a Geisha" when Sayuri's mizage is finally sold! yay for softcore literary porn. i will admit, however, that it certainly wasn't as well written as Anne Rice's The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, which, i might add, was a part of my literary canon at the ripe age of 7th grade (i know...that's not an age). who says 13 year olds are too young for brass anal beads and effing a coma-ed fairy tale characters?

it's probably the reason i ended up this way. *sigh*

life this week isn't as much as it is boring. problem sets here...problem sets there...sections...escorting...midterms. i'm just glad i only have 2 more midterms for which i need to study before my finals. see?? see how lame my life has become?? it's dwindled down to me blogging about my academic career.

speaking of which, i find out if i get my job in NYC tomorrow. i'm crossing my fingers, though i am modestly humble (<--is that overkill) about getting in...i'm assuming the worst, as all things i have applied to via Yale have been, well, unfruitful. worst comes to worst, i go back to nashvegas and make money at home in the lab. best comes to best, i go to NYC to stay in (ugh) Morningside Heights and enjoy the conveniences of the city...and closer access to clientel.

my new revelation for the day has been: NO MORE GOSSIPING. i get in way too much unsubstantiated trouble, for it is either A) i am too careless with my mouth (this is always unintentional) B) i just get in trouble because i am me C) i tell someone who is just too untrustworthy and outs me. too many times have i been blamed for something i didn't do, and when i explain myself and my alibi, i end up getting someone else/others in trouble instead. it's quite the double edged sword. i have limited my colloquial tongue from saying: "I heard" or "He/She/Heshe/Bitch said". i will, of course, use my own discretion...but gossip was soo 2004. i'm totally over it. besides, gossip itself is so much better when you can revel in it by yourself. and, shout out to lizzy g: i know...i need to get started on Gossip Girls II. does any one have Gossip Girls I?

and with that, bitches, i'm out like trout.

back in action with a tan

got back from crazy cape coral florida with the bonkster. her house on the canal was good fun, and we had our fair share of unprotected hot tub sex (since EVERYONE knows you can't get pregnant if you have sex in a hot tub...DUH!), sun bathing, cum fiestas, late night boat rides, and lunch rendezvous on "picnic island." a few highlights: A) me and my luck with (why god?!) always getting the plane seat next to some crazy person. B) bonkster's real, faux aunt and uncle C) watching unscary scary movies (beware of "Saw" y "The Forgotten"...bonks did notice that the lead in "Saw," who was a horrible actor at that, was, in fact, my fave fairy tale hero of all time: Wesley from The Princess Bride--a title name that i still don'e quite understand) D) talking a lot about the same people E) sitting on the dock and eating klon-dyke bars.

i had tons of fun-- and, bonks, don't worry. i just got tested and i don't have anything, so the clap came from you.

i leave for school on saturday and, for the first time, i'm really not that psyched to go back. i have a midterm on monday and muchos homework to finish up, but i must admit that, thanks to neenee, i have a new band fave to bring back to the Have with me. particularly, SMOOSH: the Seattle-based two girl band, ages 9 and 11 respectively; one on the keyboard + one on the drums + both on vocals = sunshine and happiness in my sad sad life. no kidding-- as soon as they started singing their first song, i started to see blue birds and was tempted to buy a big sunflower costume so that i could frollick and be gay and dainty. the music is kind of like the music you would think you would hear in a very fucked up, edward scissor hands meets nightmare before christmas meets every other Tim Burton Movie nightmare. check Smoosh out on iTunes...or, pirate the music from your local music-sharing neighbor.

excerpts from one of their songs, titled: "The Quack"

The quack is back
The bones are here
I know that you is not a quack
Ah-oo
*strange noise i cannot imitate via typing*
The bone daddy's back
*more strange noise*
The quack is back
The bones are here
I know that you are quack
Ah-oo
*strange noise again*
The bone daddy's back
*...and finally more strange noise*
He's back!

Smoosh taught me one very important lesson: you don't need acid to trip; all you need is a little Smoosh and a lot of hash.

hrm...i'm also getting my haircut today at four (in 20 minutes to be more specific), and i also know that with my luck, i will get there late and my hair-doer will have been waiting...as opposed to every other time i get there on time, and she makes me wait for like 15 minutes (dumb bia~). i just got a brazilian bikini wax/haircut at Rimage a month ago, but i figure that i should prevent the shaginess from leaking its way back into my life so that i can live out the rest of my sophomore year as sexy as possible. did you hear that? the rest of my sophomore year?! how depressing. what wouldn't i give to be a freshmen/virgin again~ woe!

lame

so. for lack of sounding lame, i haven't been updating (not that anyone noticed) because, well, my spring break has lacked some luster. my schedule for the past few days has been A) wake up B) poison small children C) eat some fruits and vegetables i find around the house D) purge E) purge F) purge G) go to the library (yes. the vanderbilt library has been my new hot spot of the week) where i've been studying up on physics (and getting physical...) H) grab dinner with the bro I) purge J) come back home K) through X) watch TV Y) brush my teeth Z) sleep.

i know it wasn't absolutely necessary for me to go through the entire alphabet, but it has significantly raised my self esteem. does it make me look busy? and i counted purging more than once in a row, because, well, sometimes one time just isn't enough.

tomorrow, i'm going to my god mother's house for a chinese new years cum fiesta. ew. i know that was really gross, but i couldn't resist. it's just a bash that is thrown so my mother can labor over cooking food for large amounts of white people...and its under the guise of "chinese new year" so my mother can't sue for labor rights violations.

on a good note, i'm understanding all of my physics...in fact, i'm kind of getting off on it. i mean, we're on electricity and magnetism, and i'm really fascinated by how the two are connected. in laymens terms, a changing electric field creates a magnetic field and a changing magnetic field creates an electric field. isn't that fucking fucked up? it's like a conundrum wrapped in an enigma...or an enigma wrapped in a conundrum (i forget how the saying goes). damn nature and all of its secrets!

on another good note, i'm leaving on monday for Cape Coral, FL to sunbathe with bookie cookie and enjoy the ethereal delights of boat rides back to cuba, pool side make out sessions, hot tubs and white wine, pissing in neighbors' mail boxes, and...well...pissing in neighbors' mail boxes. normally when i go beaching, i lather on the sunblock so i don't look so hispanic. considering the fact, however, that i'll only be in FL for a few days and the tan will have to last me well into May, i'm going to risk a little skin disease and go balls to the walls with my sun bathing.

my life is so dry. peace, bitches.

AHHHH. I WAS SOOO CLOSE.

so. i went to my brother's house for dinner, and upon finishing our meals, his roommate walks in. she babbles along, somewhere dropping a line referring to "the simple life 3" being filmed "in nashville" and immediately a light bulb went off in my head.

i jumped out of the couch to interrogate her "too good to be true" claims. ALAS! i confirmed her allegations via google...which told me that production for "the simple life 3" closed up on monday (today's wednesday...wah!). anywhore, the bitches, Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie, were in the area interning as wedding planners and dentists assistants. me, being the sad person that i am, drove to elmington park, where (according to my brother's roommate) production was staying.

and yes, i did drive there-- but only because it's like 5 mins from my house-- seriously.

it was sort of a scattering of trailers in this miniature parking lot, full of nice vehicles and bright lights. unfortunately, the girls were not there, as filming had already wrapped up. however, i had one lingering question on my mind:

HOW THE FUCK DID I NOT KNOW THAT FUCKING PARIS HILTON AND FUCKING NICOLE RICHIE WERE GOING TO BE IN FUCKING NASHVILLE FUCKING TENNESSEE??!?!?!

woe...woe...woe is me.

i called bapple to see if he was aware of this news, and even that podunk bastard knew what was going on in the real world of celebutantes. he informed me that they were staying at some girl's house who (by way of multiple "he saids she saids") he technically knew in Franklin...in addition to the fact that his mother could not get into Green Hills Mall (...soo close to my house) because they had shut down the place on Saturday to let the girls go shopping.

needless to say, i yelled at bapple multiple times, asking: "who do you think you are? who are you? how could you not have told me?!?!" because i got into fucking town on Saturday...i might have had a chance to recreate a run in with the two Hottie McHotsters. my life has lost all meaning.

so, after calling multiple people about the news of grandeur (shout out to sportscenter, ahaves, $, meimei, and all the other whores i called), i moped back into my house...only to find out that my mother-- MY OWN FLESH AND BLOOD-- over heard my talk of Paris and Nicole and mentioned that the house of her colleague, who works at the desk behind her and whose family is in the music bizz, was offered as a "sacrifical lamb," if you will, to let Paris and Nicole live in during production. the insane man TURNED DOWN THE OFFER! what the fuck. what the fuck. yes. i repeated it twice becasue A) he turned down the offer and B) my mother knew all about this without telling me.

my life has been a lie. my mother not only knew of dragostea din tei before me...she also knew that Paris and Nicole were but a few miles away from my grasp...and she did not let me know. lies upon more lies upon more lies! i need a therapist.

O NASHVILLE-- if only we had a few more paparazzi, i would've known of my lovers' whereabouts and staged a kidnapping.

N.B. ...um...most of the drama recreated in this post are for, well, dramatic purposes. i really don't care about paris and nicole that much-- all i wanted was a drop blood and a lock of hair. is that really too much to ask? i guess i'm back to square 1, that is, i guess i'll have to go back to my original plan of starting a new line of Designer Doggy Toothpaste that i'll launch next year for Tinkerbell (watch out, bitches-- i've already had it copyrighted).

to google-advertise or not to google-advertise-- that is the question

so. i have been propositioned with quite a proposition (and no, this wasn't like that time i tried to get my grade changed...the "unofficial" way):

as i was trying to log into blogger so that i could ramble on about life, i noticed a little tab that said: "make money." i, naturally, immediately clicked the button without notice of the fact that it said: "make money off your blog with google ads." thank god i could make money without the expense of my family honor. i was pleasantly suprised to see yet another genius brain child of the Great Google God...you see, with google ads, i could get paid every time someone clicks a google ad bar that i would have placed on the right side of my page if i decided to sign up.

unfortunately for me, as i was signing up, the program asked for my social security number...as i would be getting paid (N.B. escort services, however, do NOT, and i repeat DO NOT require SSN's). then i realized the great big caveat with me making money off my blog is that...well, my parents don't really know about it...and if they did, i would mildly uncomfortably (and yet slightly titillated) by knowing that they would read the shit their child manifests every once in a blue moon.

i mean, there are really far too many sexual double entendres, references to drugs and orgies, and free animal porn for my parent's poor poor eyes to come across. i kid you not: my mother's eyes would bleed from the exposure.

then again...the extra income would be really nice. then again...that's what i said before i got chlamydia.

anywhore, i am in desparate need as of yet for some play things. i always forget that the down side to spring break in nashvegas is being bored. i know- that sounds lame, and i'm hoping that all the cool people who take the time to read my shitty ass blog don't think me uncool all of a sudden (even though i am), but nashville kind of totally sucks (...did you catch it? hehe). so, i spend most of my days eating foods and watching television and planning what i SHOULD do as my brain slowly shrinks in size, along with my testicles and self esteem. alas! what wouldn't i give for some mind altering play things to pass my days and help me gain weight (if you get my drift). let's think of what i have to offer. well, there is my virginity, but i technically lost that when i went to 'nam. i could give my dignity, but there isn't very much of it left since, well, i went to 'nam. i have my soul--i'll have it until i die at least, because i promised it to good ol' POD when i got into Yale. and i am completely out of any shame. damn! i am so worthless.

**dammit. every time i hear a pattering of feet in the house coming towards my room, i have to minimize my screen. i used to not worry about it since, let's be honest, all i am doing is writing in a blog. but one time, my mother came in, i closed the the page that was actually my blog (and left my posting page up) thinking to myself "phew! that was close. i'd hate for her to see XXX FREE KINKY PORN XXX in bright blue letters as a website that i was looking at." after talking, she left. and i realized the title of my blog, "XXX FREE KINKY PORN XXX" blatantly sat at the top of my window. *sigh* this situation kind of reminds me of the time i was at a friend's house, and it was at that age that boobies were still funny. so he turned the TV to some softcore yabbos, and immediately his mother opened the door. the two shared a few blank stares before she turned around, as if to ignore what she just saw.

punch line of the story: as soon as i left, he told me that his mother asked him about that, and he blamed the entire fiasco on me-- saying that i was the one who put the TV on that channel. excuse me? me? at that age watching soft core? PUH-LEASE. if it had been me, she would've walked in on us watching the smurfs...having hardcore, unprotected, kinky XXX orgies.

i wish i had some profound thoughts for the day, but i don't. i did come up with a funny line though. i sent someone a link to check out this loverly link. as with most people who don't trust links i give to them, i imed him saying:
"...and no, it is gay porn." i'd like to think it was a funny line.

does anyone know where i get can some cheap plastic surgery?

ciao, bitches. on that note, check out lindsay lohan's (aka busty hohan) message on paris hilton's sidekick. i don't think its busty hohan because the content is a bit ridic, but it does sound quite like that cokehead skank pot.

THANK GOD MARTHA'S BACK!!

this really is martha's best week ever! (i've probably watched about 8 hours of television...and by 8 hours, i really mean 12...but honesty n this case will make me look a lot lamer than i am. television i have watched includes: crank yankers, the inferno II, Dr. 90210 (love!), martha living, Once You Go Black, You Never Go Back, amongst many other softcore films).

i'm so glad that the bitch is back and better than ever. she's on the style channel right now gluing miniature pine cones to a wooden frame~ the point of this, i know not...nor do i know why i have kept the television on the channel for the "welcome home, martha: marathon." i'm a sick person.

i don't get the big deal with martha's sentence-- i mean, bitch tried to get away with insider trading that amounted to 100 grand-- BIG FUCKING DEAL! that's a pretty penny for her. so, if you look at it from her point of view, it really wasn't that much money. i mean, for the rest of us plebians, would you do a little insider trading to save you a thousand? i know i would becasue, damn, that 1000 bucks could buy me half a shoe-- that's if i didn't get caught, of course. and if i got caught, it wouldn't be so bad...i mean, bitch got even more publicity and a sky rocketing stock price. damn. she's gotta write a book so i can pretend like i read it. let's think about the good things martha has done for the world. 1) she has further domesticated females and homosexuals. enough said. without her, men would be going home to wives that don't even know how to julliene pears or make stylish hats out of dead pigeons (*news flash* she's gluing plastic animals to picture frames now~ o martha! what more could i ask for?). she's a bitch who made her way to the top in a world ruled by men. my hat and mirkin go off to her.

everyone waited for her to crash and burn...and, well, she did. but now, there's no shame for Martha Stewartenitzbergenstein. if loving martha is wrong, then i don't wanna be right!

i'm about to eat my 3rd blood orange for the day. my biggest pet peeve: peeling them myself. the orange oils get all over my fingers and that bothers me.

in other news, i revamped my ipod with the new ipod case i got (thanks xtos). it's a hot pink plastic case that's about as kinky as gummy bear porn. i decided to completely delete everything off my ipod and just add the music i wanted. i had too much music on my ipod for show-- aka "look at me and how much cool and trendy music i have on my ipod!" we all know that when it comes down to it, all i want to listen to is peaches, M.I.A., O-zone, and kelis.

anyway, welcome back, martha. you, my dear, are a good thing.

when i grow up, can i be dr. 90210's Dr. Rey...well, minus the karate...and hispanic blood.

de ce plang chitarele?

Alo! Salut, blog! Sunt eu, uh haiduc.

so i'm home in cashville (flew in yesterday at noon)-- just got back from turning a couple tricks on 5th and 2nd, so i could get some cash to go to wal-mart. i decided to treat myself to some cinnamon toothpaste, berry-flavored floss (since flossing, for me, is the new not-flossing), vanilla mint toothpaste, vagisil, minty eye drops, itrip, and contact lens solution.

random non-sequitur numero uno: in reference to the minty eye drops (eye drops that have a little bit of menthol so when you use them, your eyes feel fresh), i approached stef on the subject of menthol cigarettes. a few days ago, i was discussing the matter with KRAP, who advised me that menthol was "like glass in your lungs." when i rementioned this statement to a connoiseur of the cigarette, stef, he agreed, elaborating that at the molecular level, menthol is really jagged and the reason that it makes things feel cool (such as when you put it on your nipples) is because the menthol is actually making tiny little cuts all over the surface. fact or fiction?

random non-sequitur numero quatorze (...hehe, get it?): anyone notice that fiddy cent's newest single, "candy shop", is just the first 6 notes of "magic stick"? was this intentional, or is he just redundant?...or black?

anyway, i'm sitting in front of the computer...and ordered the new live-in, bernita, to make me a banana/strawberry smoothie, which i am drinking right now. i was extremely delighted to come home, as my father stocked the fridge with all my fave fruits:
1) avacados (yes, it's a fruit, you plebians): i like to eat avacados with soy sauce, or with salt, pepper and parmesan cheese; i eat them like "waoh" ("woah" as in "vagina").
2) strawberries: classic fruit that i like to eat with condensed milk; sometimes, I steep them in balsamic vinegar for an evening, and then put the marinated strawberry pieces on some haagendas vanillla ice cream.
3) bananas: i only eat them when they're slightly green...i don't like them too sweet or bruised. not only are they good to eat, they are also extremely phallic, and anything that reminds me of sex makes me happy...in a special way.
4) blood oranges: because of this fruit, froggy dubbed me as "prurient joe" (if you don't know what that word means, look it up!)...i eat blood oranges like they are full of god's sweet sweet nectar...after peeling, i partition the pieces removing as much rind as i can...then i slowly nibble on each piece, sometimes breaking them in half just so that i can watch the deep, red juices trickle down my hands, before placing the entire section in my mouth and chewing it like it's the last thing i'll ever eat...(did that get you off?)

another random non sequitur: remember, the polite/classier word for describing a woman who is somewhat larger than usual (what us black folk would call "thick"...or us white folk would call "pleasantly plump" or what i would call "more cushion for the pushin") is "Rubeneque." i promise this word will come up at some point in your life...and it might even get you laid. while i cannot quite explain the context in which i thought of this word, it did occur while having a loverly dinner with xtos and stefas (the code name stefas should not be mistaken for stef_. i had dinner with the two on friday evening in regards to me joining Psi Upsilon.

*double take and read that line again*

yes. psi upsilon. in a matter of weeks, i may, indeed, belong to a frat. and by frat, i do not mean group orgy (the main difference being that you don't have to pay membership fees for group orgies). we'll see, of course, how things turn out. i'm really want to join for the themed parties, group mixers, and ookie cookie nights (you know me!).

this most recent thursday night was extremely fun: i saw lots of peeps (shout out to all my lovers!). friday, of course, was even more, low key, fun. after having dinner with xtos and stefas, i went back to the room to console my wife, bookie cookie, who brought graham with her (graham is actually girl in new blue with her...i just can't think of a better code name). anyway, we all chilled, and by chilled, i mean i smoked by myself and cried in the corner. later on, british mina and stef came over...we can a grand ol' bruhaha that included some stoner "family guy" amongst other things.

one of those "other things" happens to be a witty discourse that occured between stef and me.
Me: what does platitude mean?
Stef: i think it means something like "happy".
Me: o.
Stef: thats where they get the word "platitudinarium"...you know...the "happy house"
Me: o! i didn't even know they called it the platitudinarium.
Stef: haha~ did you also know that gullible is spelled with three L's?
Me: *laughing* good one. you might have fooled me the first time with platitudinarium, but...
Stef: no. gullible really has three L's.
*pause*
HAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

it's quite brilliant really. though i might have been under the influence and that joke might not have worked with someone who was mentally sharp and/or not an idiot, but i hope that, one day, i will be able to spread the legacy of this double entendre (...i don't know if it can really be considered a double entendre, but writing french words makes me feel smart) to the rest of the world!

...latest obsession: Dragostea Din Tei! i know, i know. it's sooo old for all the Euros...and even old for most americans...but i ended up downloading the O-zone track and rocking out with my cock out to De Ce Plang Chitarele (translation: why do guitars cry?) and Fiesta de la Noche (translation: cunt tastes like fish). romanian euro trash music is the new britney...or for me, at least, it is.

Ma-ia-hii
Ma-ia-huu
Ma-ia-hoo
Ma-ia-haha

Vrei sa pleci dar nu ma, nu ma iei,
Nu ma, nu ma iei, nu ma, nu ma, nu ma iei.
Chipul tau si dragostea din tei,
Mi-amintesc de ochii tai.

o O-zone...your music couldn't make me any happier...nor could that fat kid who lip syncs to this shit online. speaking of which, i bought myself an itrip...and i showed my mom how it works on her stereo. i played dragostea on my ipod to demonstrate its purpose (it works by sending the ipod music over a frequency that you can tune your radio to so that you can hear your music on the radio speakers in your car...confession: i actually bought the Belkin TuneCast, but itrip is easier to type and is much classier). as soon as the music started, she began to laugh. my mother, a woman of 58, new dragostea din tei...she heard about it on the news when the kid came out with the online video. *so weird* apparently, my mom is hipper than i am. as a tribute to my unhipness: dragostea is my newest cell phone ring. go me!

*i still can't believe i saw Nora Caliguri in NYC. i taped the final ep of Project Runway, just so that i could listen to Kara Saun's awesomely sick runway music...*

Real World: Philly's playing on the TV. did i ever mention that Sarah, Landon, and the other blonde kid with curly hair from Nashville were at SAE late night? i missed that shit because i was too busy being stoned and eating tons of food...but, alas!, many of my peers were blessed with the opportunity to see such revolutionaries in person.

anyway, i've rambled way too much. i'm going to go shoot something in my left arm. ciao!

"o fiddle sticks"

o fiddle sticks.

time for some stream of consciousness.

boredom required that i change my profile on thefacebook.com...a phenomenon that happens quite often. i finished up my problem sets for everything...even though i feel horrible because, since midterms have started, i've basically fallen off the bandwagon of learning and have slowly become a moocher. alas! what happened to the days when i did things on my own? in other news, as predicted, i really did do badly on my macroecon midterm. it's okay, though. by the time spring break rolls around, i'll forget i was even enrolled in that class (...i mean, 2 months constitutes short term memory, right?) i should be heading for bed as i do have a 9 am class tomorrow. as soon as i get my coke, i'll be ready for the weekend to be on a real roll~ i'm still off my running schedule, because i want to let my left fully heal before i do anything. back in the day when i was athletic (shh...don't tell anyone), i developed a tendinitis in my ankle leg that has kind of fucked me up forever. i don't plan on adding to my list of permament injuries. does swallowing a penny consistute a permanent injury? spring break's cumming along slowly. i leave for home on saturday, and end up in nashvegas at freaking noon! before i know it, i'll be...um...in my bed...and...um...like...going to walmart? or, if i'm lucky, i'll get to hang out in the parking lot past midnite! no. seriously. cashville isn't that bad...i'm really overexaggerating for literary effects. but i'm really excited to visit my betrothed wife, bookie cookie gersten, in the real dirty south, aka cape coral, florida. it should be a good time. i should end up with a nice hispanic glow (aka dark mexican tan) when i'm back at school that will last me well into summer. i tan so fast, i might as well be my own fake tanner (...did that make any sense?)

anywhore, i'm boring. bye.