Slew they the goats, yay!

Rule of thumb: Girls who have their parents find you an old school Nintendo, buy it for you, and have it shipped from Alaska totally kick ass. Dudes, there will be hunting of ducks this summer, and it will not be done in camoflage. I'm not sure if this is quite as exciting a prospect for you as it is para mi, but it should be damnit.

In other news, The Meaning of Life still kicks ass. In sports, my roommate is now on crutches because of a brutal volleyball injury. This has several implications: he can no longer participate in the one hour of activity he was obligated to perform per day (though he still goes to bed before midnight to be fully rested for intensive sitting on his ass), I have to help him to and from the shower, and he's fun to trip. In weather, it looks like The Hound of the Baskervilles here every night; the fog has replaced the rain with a vengeance since dear Petros departed. And I shall be leaving in two days for the land of California where I will sing a lot, be housed by old and senile people, go to the Price is Right and Disneyland, and encounter my parents. Sounds like a recipe for a beautiful disaster.

All this breathin' in, never breathin' out

This entry in the tomes that mobs will one day hoist aloft and procaim as their sacred texts is dedicated to an album that feels absolutely perfect tonight.

I started humming Brick on the walk back from the library and before I knew it was yanked ever so overwhelmingly into the past. Now I'm sitting here reading Marx and having to stop myself every so often from jumping up and down on my imaginary brown trampoline and swinging a putter nanometers from a cloudy old fluorescent.

Fuck, I'm back in school now and I know it.

On a lighter note, David and I have come up with a great concept for radio show personalities, should this whole college bit fall through. "Mornings with Peter and BIZ-BAZ". This concept basically revolves around the idea that David will provide nearly incoherent shit, to which I will add cheesy radio-man voice. Provided that the double-perk lives to see our mutual academic demises, we'll have the finest chemistry on radio. If anyone else is interested in becoming a part of the Peter and BIZ-BAZ regular lineup, they should feel free to petition via comments.

BRAIN TAMPON: MARX, WHATEV AND EV AMEN, COMBINATORICS...
AMONG US COUNTDOWN: 5 months or so, I really don't have a calendar.

The lemon of pink

I think that my favorite thing about college is the centrality and fluidity of it all. I live within a certain reasonable radius of all of my friends, and so can create numerous different and diverse combinations of people at will. I also live nearby thousands of complete strangers than I can meet or interact with. Especially when intoxicated. The thing about being back home is that you usually have to make a conscious decision, to some degree, of who you want to spend your time with. We have to deliberate on who we should invite or who she should call, not to mention who has to call them. That's not to say that unpredictable things don't happen, and that random and bizarre but enjoyable groups aren't assembled, but it isn't as easy and natural and common as it is here. When I first got here I tried to use the same strategy that was applicable back home: I would make plans and try to figure out how I was going to spend my Friday night. Of course I still sometimes make plans with people, but I've learned that it's fairly rewarding to leave your night almost completely up to chance. I never seem to have an idea of what I'm doing or where I'm going anymore, and somehow the time just disappears. I find myself in this room and that room and this building and that building, and with people I dont' know. And it's fantastic. It's like a commune of people who just don't give a shit. And if you do, well you'll be useful for amusing the rest of us. It helps to have no responsibilities whatsoever after a certain point in the day. J-term, I want to children your fathers.

P.S. If anybody gets UPN, I insist that you watch Dance 360. Every single weekday at 12:30 A.M. my time. It will change your life. I'll tape a few to ensure that they are seen. Kel (of Kenan and Kel) hosts, and tonight a 45 year old white guy named White Chocolate went head to head with a young black frotastic dude named...fuck I was drunk I can't remember his name, but it was funny...anyway, White Chocolate got the first 10 rating I've ever seen. The prize is $360 and an Xbox, and most of these people are playing to pay their rent. Please watch it. I'm not kidding.

SOMEBODY FUCKING TOUCH ME!

Okay, so tonight, on the eve of my surgical procedures, i decided to make use of this delightful projector in yet another way, and to rediscover my true love relationship with tony hawk's pro skater 2. Needless to say, this has been a most fruitful experience, and i was able to complete 100% of the game in right around 2 hours. I am a golden god. How did it ever take us so long the first time? Anyway, I decided that it would be a fairly sizeable travesty to not pay homage to my dear friend Steve Caballero and his infinite Madonna powers.

Tomorrow, barring intense pain, i will contact Tyler and invite him over for some humangous Deus Ex and maybe some movie viewing.

Here's to sucking down milk shakes and doing nothing for at least few days!