It's allergy season again, and here I am nervous like I stole something waiting for good ol' Mother Nature shoot a facial of pollen up my nose. How is it that I can go through life without a springtime care in the world, only to enter my 20's counting on feeling like shit at least twice a year.
The irony of the situation is that allergies are a lot like date rape. I'm like, "Oh! Springtime, what a lovely time of the year." I proceed to don my favorite pair of denim cutoffs and cut my mustache short so that the parts of my upper lip covered by the wintertime mustache may enjoy the nice weather as well. And wouldn't you believe it, as soon as I let my guard down Springtime takes our gentle flirting to a whole new level hate-banging my face with loads of smarmy pollen. Silly flowers! Don't you understand? My nose is no stigma, my face is no snizz - you cannot physically impregnate me; I'm human. Needless to say, the abundance of flower jizz in the air makes me feel like shit, and I'm bitter about it.
Fuck the weather.
The following is the redacted version of an e-mail I wrote to the g/f today...and her response:
(Me to g/f) -
Alright, so funny story. I walk into Vilas to finally go drop a hard copy of that paper, that is over 1.5 weeks late, into Pan's office and get this thing out of my hair so that I can write another paper for him due a week from today. Well, I walk into the building hit the button for the elevator and who's standing there all smart, disarmingly philosophical, and alone in the elevator? Fucking Professor Pan, that's who!
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrgh!
And on top of it? I go to class and he proceeds, in the most eloquent fashion humanly possible, to deliver a lecture penultimately wading through the subject matter of my book, spoon-feeding me what should have been the theoretical basis for my argument within the book review that I had handed to him no less that 10 minutes prior! I mean, he covered roughly every base, while drawing the conclusions that I should have pulled from the pages of the most dense book on the planet. God, he's fucking smart. And I feel like a procrastinating spaz, holding a brick in his hand, tears in his eyes, wondering why the fuck his head hurts so bad despite the brick-sized dent in his head. "Fuuuck-tard", (sung lyrically). Whatevs, I'm over it...kind of, (*sigh*). Get drunk tonight?
Alright so that's the shitty story of the day. I'm going to be online pissing my day away...come chat when you'd like!
Creepy me.
(g/f to me...she's such a cheerleader. which, i guess, means she's totally bangable) -
that is quite the story...very funny...i can't believe you saw pan on the day you finally turn your paper in, and then he proceeds to lecture about your material. whatev. that is funny, however. well..so what are you doing today? i should just wait until you get online and then talk to you then..why are you pissing your day away online again? don't you have a paper due tomorrow? you should write it right now. come on!!!! do it! clap your hands and say yeah!
okay..get online quickly and i'll chat w/you and then you can go do homework.
(Me to g/f) -
Alright, so funny story. I walk into Vilas to finally go drop a hard copy of that paper, that is over 1.5 weeks late, into Pan's office and get this thing out of my hair so that I can write another paper for him due a week from today. Well, I walk into the building hit the button for the elevator and who's standing there all smart, disarmingly philosophical, and alone in the elevator? Fucking Professor Pan, that's who!
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrgh!
And on top of it? I go to class and he proceeds, in the most eloquent fashion humanly possible, to deliver a lecture penultimately wading through the subject matter of my book, spoon-feeding me what should have been the theoretical basis for my argument within the book review that I had handed to him no less that 10 minutes prior! I mean, he covered roughly every base, while drawing the conclusions that I should have pulled from the pages of the most dense book on the planet. God, he's fucking smart. And I feel like a procrastinating spaz, holding a brick in his hand, tears in his eyes, wondering why the fuck his head hurts so bad despite the brick-sized dent in his head. "Fuuuck-tard", (sung lyrically). Whatevs, I'm over it...kind of, (*sigh*). Get drunk tonight?
Alright so that's the shitty story of the day. I'm going to be online pissing my day away...come chat when you'd like!
Creepy me.
(g/f to me...she's such a cheerleader. which, i guess, means she's totally bangable) -
that is quite the story...very funny...i can't believe you saw pan on the day you finally turn your paper in, and then he proceeds to lecture about your material. whatev. that is funny, however. well..so what are you doing today? i should just wait until you get online and then talk to you then..why are you pissing your day away online again? don't you have a paper due tomorrow? you should write it right now. come on!!!! do it! clap your hands and say yeah!
okay..get online quickly and i'll chat w/you and then you can go do homework.
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