Why not? I ask. The next month and a half of my life is going suck. I had to dig my Murray State Planner out of the rubble to fill it chock-full of all the millions of things I have to do. I was prompted to do this after Holly did. The rest of her semester looks like hell on a stick, so I figured, hey, mine probably does, too. So I located all of my trusty syllabi and began scrawling dates down. This process led me to the revelation that I have, again, three finals on one day. Fanfreakingtastic. So if I've got all this stuff to do, why am I sitting here tapping out another blog? Because I have about zero ambition and motivation. Persist, there is no ¢ in quitting can go party with Jimi.
Mmkay, things in life just got interesting. I'm proposing a ban on intergallactic communications. Even better, why don't we just destroy all intergallactic beings? Lloyd must die. And yes, I think he chose the right profession.
In other, less interesting news, I've had waffles and a shower today. That's about as productive as it gets, folks. Oh, and I put our Beat-less poster up. With Ashley's mounting tape. We need a lifetime supply of that mess. I admit, I used to really plug the duct tape, but mounting tape kicks some serious adhesive-material butt. If only it would keep up that stupid sink skirt... Anyway, because I'm keeping life as simple and effortless as possible, I just put John, Paul, George, and Ringo up right on top of Harry. We reserve that spot for the British.
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