Wednesday

To pump myself up for the first week in a new semester, I’ve been listening to the same three songs incessantly: N*SYNC’s “Here We Go,” Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again On My Own” and Ludacris’ “Get Back.” The first two are for inspiration. The last one is fo’ that there punk standin’ in tha way o’ mah cash money, baby.

The songs played all weekend and when I headed to class I had an excited bounce in my step. Then, I remembered what it was like to be in class after class for hours.

The only song now in my head is the Meow Mix song from those annoying commercials. My mind has turned to complete mush.

Maybe the “Welcome Back” International Coffee Hour at 3:30 p.m. on the second floor of Gallagher will put that bounce back in my step. If not, at least it’ll put some yummy food in my belly.

My belly will say “thank you” and I will say “you’re welcome. Is there anything else you would like?” and it will say, “Gee, let me think” and I will say, “OK, take your time,” and after a few moments have passed it will say, “I got it!” and I will say “What?” and it will say, “I could really go for some cheesecake,” and I will say, “Cheesecake? Why cheesecake?” and it will say, “Because it is delicious,” and I will say, “OK, I guess that makes sense,” and it will say, “Sure it does, I’m your belly,” and I will laugh, and I will feed my belly cheesecake and it will be a happy day.

Don’t judge me.

Thursday

Speaking of deliciousness, there will be a Late Night Snack tonight with Chick-Fil-A in the GSC foodcourt at 10 p.m.

The advertisements for the event have a picture of a cute clip-art chick as the mascot for this event, which I think is pretty pathetic. At least get a picture of a chicken so we don’t feel guilty for eating meat. Chicks are not only as tasty as regular chicken, but they come with an aftertaste of guilt. The only known cure for guilt is drinking exorbitant amounts of alcohol which is bad for my liver and excess could cause psoriasis in later years. Psoriasis can lead to death.

All because of cheap clip-art.

Friday

The magazines I read at the grocery store that give me the inside scoop on all my favorite toothpick-like celebrities tell me to make a New Year’s Resolution. So, I do.

Usually the resolution is to stop eating food, stop waiting outside my crush’s window for hours hoping for a quick peek and to start wearing clean underwear. This year I scrapped those stupid ideas and decided to write a book. Enjoy!
Acknowledgements: I would like to thank my very good friend Larry David for helping me every step of the way.

Prologue: This is a book about nothing. All other books are about something, so why not make a book about nothing?

Chapter 1: There are four friends. One is a comedian with a canny ability to make up funny words about everyday situations and people with his other friend who is small, cute, bald, and has a bit of a temper. There’s also another tall goofy guy with funny hair. He is not a racist. Yet, he is. Oh, and there’s a chick.

Chapter 2: The chick is not like a small, baby chicken. She is an actual female of the human race.

Chapter 3: Some stuff happens and it fills up about 26 minutes of TV time. Sometimes you laugh.

Epilogue: This idea is completely original. It’s mine and only mine.

Forever and ever.

The end.

Saturday

For all you readers out on Alaska, hawatawakeechiwah. That means, “Hello” in some cultures. I would also like to add, joop! That means, “I am honored to be in your presence and wish you success in this day of the Polar Bear Festival.”

For those of you who don’t speak the language I am referring to, the “j” in “joop” is silent. Now you know.

You who think the language I’m referring to is complete crap. Let me enlighten you.

Crap is referring to an action on the toilet. Joop sounds like poop. Therefore, if you carry the 7 and round up, you realize my point.

Poop. Teeheehee.

Sunday

On this day in 1863, the first battle of Sabine Pass began in Texas during the Civil War.

On this day in 1855, John Browning, the man known as the “father of the modern firearm,” was born.

One of the main Colts’ sayings is simply, “Bleed Blue.”

In short, if there is even so much as a hair from a Patriots fan within fifty feet of me today, it will not be a pretty sight. Kapeesh?

Monday

Alrighty, let me just kick away that little Sunday football soapbox and return to the real world where people in New England are going to be obnoxious whether the Patriots win or lose.

That’s right. I said it. Well, typed it really. The only difference is our Kentucky readership will have to be read the joke so that they can get it, just like they have the rest of the paper read to them, in which case it will be said and the phrase “I said it” will make sense and this sentence can be discounted completely.

That’s right, again. I made fun of Kentucky, too. Man, I am isolating everybody today.

I only lash out because I’m unhappy with myself...

...is what you would like me to type. NOT! I love myself! I don’t need you! You want me to need you and I don’t need you! Get out of my way! I’m going to the top, baby! To the top of the world and beyond!

Tuesday

My attention span lately has been waning significantly and I can’t figure out why! I spent my break being really productive by watching VH1 Countdowns, reruns of “The Golden Girls,” and MTV’s “Exposed.” Why on earth does my brain feel like death? Answer me!

Gotcha! I secretly attached a lie detector to this newspaper. Using advanced lie detector software, it determined your answer was a lie. But, I’ll still date you. I’m easy.