11/03/2004 - 2:43 p.m. | lost your friction and you slid for a mile

OK, OK - kindly take your dick out of my ass, karma. Honestly. This is not a good time. OK, when is a good time, but still! I was all proud of myself yesterday for actually sitting down and going through my cognitive psych early, rereading the chapters, refreshing my memory for the test, good boy. Well, we certainly can't have him accomplishing anything! So I get the results for the advertising research surverys all organized, because all I'm supposed to do is god damn hand them over, and all of a sudden, Aisha's like, "Well, Minsoo, all you need to do is enter like the first ten, since you're making the table [such a task to make like 15 columns in Excel], and Nate will do the rest of the fucking hundred million." Oh thanks, I will? At least some creepy beard guy complimented me on my bike. Anyway, I was in somewhat of a foul mood because my goal there had been to get something, even a small, insignificant something, off of my list, and that obviously hadn't panned out. So, I was up studying, but then that stupid old adage about, "You'll forget those nights you spent studying, but you'll always remember the nights you were dicking around with your roommates blah blah cry chicken soup for your bleeding rectum" kicked in, and what do you know? suddenly I'm downstairs with Kyle inventing rules for an election night drinking game. The rules were numerous, but let's give a few examples, shall we? They actually give up and show Larry King, 1 drink, plus a 2 drink modifier if they go for a headshot. 1 drink for sea of zombies behind the glass. 1 drink for each time Ohio and Florida were mentioned in the same sentence. 1 drink for each time Wolf Blitzer reminded us that 270 electoral votes were needed or that they were indeed broadcasting from Times Square. 1 drink for each mention of Obama. 7 drinks for each mention of Dukakis. 3 drink secret rule everytime someone starts gushing about Anderson Cooper. 2 drinks for Dick Cheney in Hawaii. Bottom's up if a non-swing state swings. And loads more, meaning we were all fairly effectively soused and sort of riles up. I was mostly angry because of a stupid error in judgement where I went, "You pick the Boone's Farm flavors for me." Coconut ass and raspberry taint. Anyway, back to bitching! Somewhere along the line, I remembered that my car had died mysteriously earlier on during the day (No lights left on or anything) and that it would need to be jumped before the next day. Well, that didn't seem to work, last night or this morning, and now suddenly I'm "that guy," bumming rides off of everybody because of all my stupid jobs. And while I would love to attend to that horror, maybe get the car at least started and driven to a mechanic, there is inconceivably little time for such a task, and now I'm all aggravated and trying to not have a slight breakdown and throw myself into oncoming traffic. Not to die so much as to incur enough injuries that I do not need to focus on these concerns for a bit. As it is, though, my only joy is through soda bottle of urine out the window. Die. Just die.

Additionally, there is good news in that I am not one of the people paying my bills on the last day at CHAMPAIGN DO-IT BEST HRDWARE (That's right, HRDWARE), for that is quite a mob. I went with Spritz today because he was scared, and we were the only people there I did not consider the most awful, hideous dregs of society that I have ever seen. So at least there's that to clutch onto.