Monday, February 28, 2005

Hear Them in Fragments


'You can't be serious.'

'Please come down from there...'


'Love you too my whittle smufferkins...'

'Okay, knock it off; I'm not kidding anymore.'

'Don't make me come over there and punch you. I can see you ya' know you little twat.'

'You're JOKING!!'

'You understand that I hate you...I mean HER!!!'

'Whatever; I don't care anymore.'

'She knew that the boyfriends dog was going to turn around and bite her in the...'

'I said drop it, so DROP IT.'

'The monkey said WHAT?!'

'What class you have next...'

'Okay, I'm hanging up right now; yeah, love you too, Idiot.'

And that, my friends, are fragments of phone conversations I heard today while meandering through the quad at class-changing times.

It's amazing what one will hear if one listens.

I especially like the "Love you too Idiot." one ha ha. :-)

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Get Your Own Cookie

So I was waiting for the elevator a couple of nights ago at around midnight. It is Saturday, and most people are drunk anyways. But either way I just went down to Subway to get something to snack on (a cookie, and our Subway is open downstairs until two in the morning anyways he he).

So anyways I'm waiting for the elevator, and this girl comes up behind me also with milk in her hand and what looks like a cookie from Subway. I look at my own cookie that I am holding.

"You gonna' eat that?" She slurs at me.
"What?" I say, making sure I heard her correctly.
"You gonna'eatthat?" She says, sluring worse than ever.
"Uhm, yeah." I say, eyeing her milk and cookie.

Suddenly, and elevator slides into view, and we both board the one-way ticket up.

"You can't have a cookie without milk." She says, her face contorting in disgust. Her eyes seem unfocused as she stares at me.
"Yeah I can..." I say, staring fixedly at the digital screen which shows which floor we are on.
"Okay...but it'll be hard..."
"I have stuff to drink in my room." I say curtly, wishing the digital monitor to go up faster.
"Oh." She says, looking hurt.

The silence of the elevator is only punctured by the beeping noise by the elevator as it passes every floor.

"Now can I have your cookie?" I hear a small voice say once more.

Monday, February 14, 2005

Have a Happy Valentine's Day

After I got off the elevator this morning, I saw a guy stumbling around as if he had either 1. Just got back from a really great party or 2. Had just woken up. I had guessed the latter because he was rubbing his eyes and his hair was all tousled up.

"Whoa!" He says after a few minutes have passed. He's staring at Vrooman (Dining Center) which is open. (It is closed on the weekends, keep this in mind...)
"Whoa what?" I say, stopping abruptly behind him, my backpack on my shoulders. He is now blocking the way into Vrooman.
"I didn't know Vrooman was open on the weekends!"

"'s not is Monday," I say, eyeing him.
"No it can't be Monday...why are so many people there with bookbags?" He says, obviously still hallucinating.
"Hellooo...It's Monday!" I say loudly, getting slightly irritated as he is still blocking my way towards food and my stomach is yelling at me.
"What?! No it's not." He says stubbornly, now turning towards me.

I'm already reaching into my bookbag. A few minutes pass as I hand him my schedule, which is clearly labeled "Monday, February 14th".
"Oh." He says, and I could see the cogs working in his brain at this angle...
"WHOLLY SHIT!!" He yells after a beat, "I'm missing classes!!!"

And without another word he sweeps by me, running back to his room.

"Happy Valentine's Day!!" I yell at his retreating back. He waves his arm in response before whipping around the corner and out of sight.

Monday, February 07, 2005

Send Me a Website, Part II

Since I've gotten so many E-Mails giving me more websites, I think I've found another one I will post about.

This man's name is "Anonymous", and he has kindly given me a hysterical website in which I shall post here. Too bad he didn't give me his name, his 15 minutes of fame (err...a few days' worth, possibly) start now!!

Don't hesitate, people!

Anyways, I found this new "Terror Alert Enhanced Color" to be EXTREMELY amusing at the time, provided by SubIntSoc.

Hope you all enjoy!

Sunday, February 06, 2005

Nickname Her

Have you ever done something so extraordinarily stupid, that it bears repeating?

I know I have, and that's why I have created a blog about those silly moments in life where one just wants to sink into the shadows for all eternity.

This Blog, viola! You are witnessing history unfolding, my friends, so bear witness!

Since my computer and I have gotten so close recently mainly because of my severe and overwhelming addiction to, I thought I would give my baby a nickname. I mean, this computer and I have been together for almost an entire year, and what's better than saying "Happy Anniversary" then giving old wheezer a nickname?

So, now I call the 16-inch tall box humming right beside me, "Cutie". It's simple, and what could be better than having the nickname start with a "C", which also starts the word "Computer"?

Pure Genius: I know, I know.

So anyways today I was talking to one of my friends a few floors down, and he started up a conversation about computers.
"Damn my computer is sucking it UP lately!" He says.
"Oh?" Say I.
"Indeed!" Says he.

"Well, my Cutie is acting almost angelic lately," I say, referring to my computer.
"You know, Cu-t-ie?" I say, pronouncing my computers' name slowly.

And this, my friends, is when I decided to stop referring to my computer as "Cutie". Not only does it ask for a repeating of the name whenever I mention it, but it also gets a lot of raised eyebrows after I explain.

Once Again: Don't call your computer "Cutie".

Thursday, February 03, 2005

Set Off the Alarm

Well, personally I thought it would have been quite an accomplishment to say that I have actually set off an Alarm to the local Wal-Mart, but the whole shebang didn't turn out the way my imaginative mind played it out to be.

I walked into Wal-Mart, eager to get a DVD I had been craving. I go strait to the back, pluck it off the shelf, and cheerfully carry it forward into the queue of the customers shopping.

The woman scans the DVD, places it into a rather small bag, and stuffs it into my hands with a gruff "Have a nice day." I swear I can see the cashier’s ape hair sprouting from her arms at this angle...


I grab my bag; take out my receipt while simultaneously casting my ape-cashier nasty looks, making sure she knew I didn't want to lose a single penny with my purchase. I'm about 10 feet away from the door now, my eyes never-ceasing on scanning my receipt.


I throw myself full-force into a cart hauling ass with a flat-screen TV inside.

"Wartch whear yer goin' missy!" A man who slightly resembles the ape-cashier says. Maybe a cousin twice-removed...?
"Oh...sorry...” I stammer, treading back a few steps and letting them through.

I hold my receipt up once more, following the couple with the TV closely on their heels; we are neck-and-neck, racing for the door and...

Whirrn. Whirrn. Whirrn. Whirrn. Whirrn.

A shrill noise cuts into my ears. I gently fold the receipt and place it in my pocket, turning curiously as to whom or what had set off the alarms.

"Ma'AM!" I hear a man yelling towards me. I look over to what looks like about three employees about ready to single-handedly flag down a small airplane.

Oh, wait.

They are waving towards me!

I walk over, showing them also the greeting that I had used so many other times by raising my hand in response to their gesture.

"What's wrong?" I say, suddenly on alert. A large man with overalls on strides over, looking a little over-dressed for Wal-Mart and highly dignified.
"Ma'am, did you buy that?" The man says bluntly, pointing at my bag.
"What?" I say, my eyes widening as I hand them my DVD. "This??"
"Yes." The man says, taking my bag in his hand and taking out my DVD, showing it to everyone.
"Of COURSE I bought it!" I say, suddenly outraged.
"Mmmmmm...” Was all the guy could muster, making my DVD look like a dollhouse toy in his overly large hands.
"So, where's the receipt?" Another employee piped in, his voice squeaking. I turn towards him, and I swear sparks are about ready to fly out of either my ears or my ass.

"Right. Here." I say, taking it out of my pocket and thrusting it at the large man in overalls. He takes it and without blinking goes over the serial number, the cost and the title of the DVD to make sure they match.
"So you didn't steal it,” He says after a few minutes of matching have passed.

"Yeah, I did steal it: that's just the replica I made while I was waiting in line you jackass."

Is what I thought.

Instead, I made an exasperated little sigh that did the same thing.

"By the way, I think the people who might have REALLY stolen something are probably far away by now,” I say sarcastically, thinking of the couple with the flat-screen TV. I grab my stuff back suddenly, lurching forward. The man in overalls looks offended, but I'm already out of there.