02/02/2004 - 2:06 a.m. | the real winner is team diabetes

I'm not feeling too well right now, and this is entirely due to the vast amount of shit that I am required to consume whenever I watch football which is, strangely enough, once a year. Forgive me if the writing is a little off, but I'm just starting to see through time, and I am not completely used to it yet.

I woke up today, and there was that previously unknown feeling that there was a bunch of stuff I was forgetting. Oh, that's right. I have homework. So I very slowly get chugging on that. Reading and studying or whatever. So, I would not typically consider myself a big friend of the animals or anything, but I had to read about the procedures they perform on rats to test how parts of the brain work, and it just seemed really mean. Causing lesions on purpose? I dunno... I don't like rats at all, but I don't really like the idea of screwing with them either. Man, damn you generic sour cream and cheddar chips. We are quite at odds now. Kyle and Brtyne's door just locked. And I was just about to burst in there, too. Thank you, tangent.

So, in what I consider a pretty stupid assignment for my lab, I had to go to the biology library to look up an article, dig it up in the stacks, photocopy it, and write a summary about it. Just to prove that we are still capable of using libraries. God damn you. I mean, they don't make me learn how to hitch a horse before I can pass my driver's test, right? Anyway, I had some difficulty finding an OK article. By "OK," I mean one that I can feasibly understand, and by "finding," I mean one I can decipher the insane organizational system of and actually track down in the building. See, there's the Dewey Decimal System, right? Now, fucking throw that out the window and we'll just put everything alphabetically by type of publication. Oh, that makes perfect sense. Why is the Dewey number even on there then? Maybe they should be listed by the sum total of vowels in each book. That might come in handy. So, I do finally find the article I want, and I go upstairs to copy it. Unfortunately, I thought a dollar in quarters would more than cover costs. Inflation strikes again. 20 cents short. I'll just go hang myself, all right? So, maybe I could go begging around for some change, and I guess if I had some actual money on me I could put some money for copies on my ID, but I DON'T USE LIBRARIES, so this shall be the only time I will ever need to photocopy anything. In the end, I plod over to the convenience store on Gregory (Gregory?) to get some change. I don't know if you know this, but I have the unique ability to find the perfect food for any given situation. So, since I was in a rather bitter mood, I got some fucking Twizzlers licorice strings, which are of course never fresh and usually have both the flavor and texture of actual shoelaces. Perfect. Incidentally, if you have been searching for some of the more hardcore pornographic magazines (with penises in them and everything!), that's your place. I would've liked to bring in a nice big copy of "Hustler," but then I woulda started singing the song, and some biology kids would freak out, and that's it for me.

I ate shoestring licorice on the bike ride home, and if I were in charge of that which is or is not cool, I would top the list for that, but instead I guess I just need to go to KAM'S and drink until I shit my liver out. Since we are all nerds, none of us really knew when the Super Bowl actually started, so we got into it a little late. Spritz and I made it a point to be men and drink beer, and I ate very unhealthy things so that I am unhappy now. As far as, uh, sports go, I guess I was reasonably entertained, if only by Kyle's conspiracy theories that the game was fixed to make it more interesting. Does everything get worse when you get older? I mean, Christmas is one thing, but I know I used to like the commercials, and now they're just bleh. My favorite part was when they'd get to some time the station had purchased for local affiliates, and all of a sudden we'd see a commerical for some shiity rib place. Well, glad that cost somebody $2.3 million. The Biz Markee one was sort of cute, and all the impotence ads made me a little amused, but overall, bleh. Fuck you, Mach 3 ad. "It's like an angel by your side." You just wait 'til I'm in charge. Randomness and cartoonish violence will be the order of the day. The halftime show was, um, lousy (although "special guest" Jessica Simpson's three second cameo made it all worthwhile), and I don't care what MTV is saying: Revealing Janet Jackson's boob at the end was not a fucking mistake. They were promising "shocking moments" when she signed on, and as far as I am concerned, this is one step closer to hardcore porn on Fox. The obvious next step. In other news, society continues its decent by making You Got Served the weekend's top box office movie. Thank you, Lord.

After that, I finished what of my work I could focus on and then began the elaborate process of trying to cheat at games on the Disney Channel website, so that I can show up all those little smart aleck fuckers. Incidentally, I was reading all these posts by Disney Channel fans, and they're all like 7 or 8. This is disturbing and sad. More importantly, I discussed my plan to raise a little Scottish kid, and somehow Kyle came up with the idea that I should try faking an accent for a while - a week, specifically. Um, mine's not particularly good, but what the fuck? If I can keep my mind focused on it, maybe it'll be something of a ruse. Or I'll just be considered sort of retarded, and that's really nothing big. To help remind myself, I wrote a little "K" on the back of my hand. K meaning kilt. Remember Sammy Jankis.