The Rest

About a month ago I passed three custodians who were smoking outside of the Science building.
I almost, almost asked one of them to 'save me a draw'.
Maybe next time.

Sometimes I walk around campus and am relieved to see people reading at the base of trees.
We, as a race, are supposed to be reading at the base of trees.

The day after the Metric show.
I'm in Military. This class has a frightful number of students with useless opinions.
I get impatient easily. I dislike most people.
How bad do they get?
On an occasion or two, they've said things so outlandish that I've suddenly turned towards them while shrugging. The way you shrug when you're exasperated with someone. Who isn't making any sense. I am not in the least bit subtle about it.
I dislike most people.
So, the blond one. The female. She may even be the worst.
Mentions something about the Metric show.
Attractive Professor: Oh, I didn't realize Metric was playing.
The Female: Nobody did.
Me (immediately): I did.
Everyone looks at me.
Me: What? I never say anything in class. I thought I'd speak up.
The show sold out. 600 people.
Who says that?

You know the pretty ones? The ones who spend more time on their makeup than they do on their homework?
If you watch them really closely, you can tell that they're concentrating more on not bailing in the hallway with their mid-week pumps, than they are on the route they need to take to get to their destination.
Why do they call heels pumps? I never did understand that one.

While on that. I check out a female in the following order (they'll be lining up at my door after they read this one. To be fair, all men have an order. I'm just honest about it):

• face.
• breasts.
• shoes.
• ass.
• teeth.
• eyes.
• the rest.

Why is shoes number three? Fair question.
I believe that you can determine a great deal about a potential life partner by the footwear they don.
Certain shoes suggest laid back. I need laid back.
And if a girl is wearing something like, oh, I don't know, pumps, at a barbecue, it's best I move on.
With many girls that I've seen naked, I can recall the shoes they were wearing when I met them.
Do not mistake this as a fetish. I find feet kind of gross, actually.

I'd like to ride in a zeppelin before I die.
Because you're not one with air, as you are in a plane. You're beating air.
I compete with most gases.

Guys can't handle having other guys hold a door for them.
Homophobia for some is not an edict, it is a way of life.
They'd sooner wait until you let go of the door.
Guys are idiots.

Lastly, Tragic Hero is going on paper.
The Scope is going to print it. At least once.
Every time I see the layout (which I am not unveiling until after the issue's out) I feel like I'm about to ask out Heather Bartlett in grade 9 all over again.
I still can't believe she said 'yes'.
We've since went our seperate ways.

edit: The Scope is actually on the go now (I forgot which day of the week it was). But I'm not sure how to turn a .pdf into something I can have you all look at on this site.
I'll get back to you.