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filthy assistant

I have simultaneously become one of those people who makes annoyingly cryptic one-word blog entries and instigated an experiment in free association. Don't let me down on the comments, people. You know who you are.
Current Mood: busybusy
Current Music: Lit- My Own Worst Enemy
filthy assistant
I can't stop listening to "15th Shade." I love the random shit I find on my computer. Any song with "a ball of congealed air" is good by me. Also, "Let it pass. I want to wake up again. I couldn't save you, my lovely. I cannot save myself" is more or less what I feel like waking up every morning, take that, um, as you will, since I've never been in a situation with guns an shields and having to rescue anyone, not even metaphorically, so it really doesn't follow. I just think it's neat someone has managed to put my early mornings into a song. Sure, that someone is possibly completely mad, but still. My mornings! In a song! Is it not marvelous?

Context, context, content, conjecture. Crypticism! Christ, it looks like I'm writing a piece for a student-run literary magazine with that bit. To quote an SR-71 song and jump from one end of the musical spectrum to the opposite, "There's nothing I believe in more than my own insignificance, so why does everybody think my words can make a difference?" The bad thing about being a self-professed comedian is that you never take anything seriously, and after a while, for obvious reasons, this starts to be bad. Then there's all the trying to get a handle on what's funny, what's bullshit, what that guy thinks, why making a joke is not the best policy in 100% of the situations, etc. Que triste. Why not just laugh it off?

I...totally forgot anything else I might have to say. Cheers. :B
Current Mood: okayokay
Current Music: cEvin Key- 15th Shade
filthy assistant
Medieval Societies is slowly devolving into a dialogue between me and Professor Paradis. Since there are scholarly dirty jokes involved, this is a good thing (a quote from the Gies book said that women were supposed to live "under the rod" of the man in their life, and of course that's snicker-worthy). More chivalric literature on Monday, which means I'm so gonna make a joke about swords. Poor, poor Sir Gawain. Hurr. :B

Wieland presentation today owned. Even Brent-who-was-making-me-nervous came through and schooled his section. I sort of wish the audience had been a little more...alive, but what the hell. Cross-referencing Champlain and Letters from an American Farmer was icing on the cake during the "Matt asks a question he hopes will make you think" time. Having already thought about it, though, his ruse only nominally worked; 3/4 of our group met beforehand to prepare for such an eventuality and I just drew the short straw for Q&A time. Our group for the win, although Hayley and I did stop to wonder en route how the window chicks' hitting on Matt affects their grades. Probably it does, probably in the positive, probably depressing. But we still owned, and I no longer have to worry about romantic Gothic phantasms in the night.

Really, the whole point of this was to add substance to a bizarre and utterly pointless vignette: some guy outside asked me if he could bum a smoke, and I had none on me but my first response was that I had more in my apartment and could ninja-grab one. He looked surprised, and it was only after he'd told me that nah, that's a pain in the ass that I realized that's not the normal response. Welcome to my head, population none.
Current Mood: gigglygoofy
Current Music: Black Eyed Peas- Shut Up
filthy assistant
02 March 2006 @ 08:01 pm


Current Mood: irritatedirritated
Current Music: The Offspring- Self-Esteem
filthy assistant
01 March 2006 @ 11:47 pm
I am turning into Winston Churchill. This would be worrying were it not for the totality, which suggests I'll soon be at the point where I can dispense snappy one-liners like "Madam, if you were my wife, I would drink it," or "He is a modest little man, with much to be modest about."

Actually, wait. I am getting there, since I now talk in class, because eloquence is pointless if you don't use it (there I am, four months behind, as usual), and terrify and stun the people around me. Part of this is their fault-- how could I be the only person in class who knows what a portcullis is?! My poor professor only wanted an answer to "What's a portcullis" and I didn't even see any clicks of recognition. By the time my answer began to involve pulleys, everyone was effectively out. For the motherfuckin' win. I'm still appalled, but it was kind of cool to bust that shit out. I finally know why I think it's so neat-- it's a very unequivocal thing, it lets you say, "Look, this is [insert term here] and it does [insert function here]. I rule the world, what?" That's like drugs, although arguably more time-consuming and expensive.

I should start buying those warhead candies so I'll stop drinking schnapps because I want something sour. Except not because I'm turning into Winston Churchill, sans problem shoulders.

I look at all this and it's cryptic. Abominably cryptic. I talk a lot and say nothing and it's so irritating. I mean, I knew I did that for a long time, but now I feel like I'm banging my head into a wall here, doing this. Of course, that's all I can do here, to be candid without being specific, which is why I did some not-really-that-clever-at-all sidestepping. Ultimately I have no one but myself to blame for this head-banging feeling, since I am here to prove the dumbest point known to man. I just realized too late that this was in fact a less-good habit than I'd previously thought. It was like my whole life was under scrutiny and needing evasiveness lest someone hear me and do something awful, hence this constant hedging; as much as melodrama would like me to say it, never has my whole life been under surveillance (Just most of it? Was that over the top? Maybe. Maybe not. Eh). Oh, introspection. You always make me sound depressed and you came at too high s price. To wrap this up on a better note...your MOM! Bahahahaha!
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Current Music: Blink 182- What's My Age Again?
filthy assistant
25 February 2006 @ 02:04 am
...the can is there to hold in the Spam! If you know that parody, I love you. Anyway, Dire Straits is one of the more underrated bands of all time, at least if you're under the age of 40. Que triste. In the interest of advertising my bizarre taste in music and my seriously crippling case of nerd-dom, I give you...lyrics!

Gentlemen, behold! I have grafted a deer antler to my groin!Collapse )
Current Mood: determineddetermined
Current Music: Dire Straits- Romeo and Juliet
filthy assistant
24 February 2006 @ 03:51 pm
So you know when you smell something and then can't get it out of your head, like you have this phantom odor drifting around your olfactory center? Don't tell me this doesn't happen to other people; I refuse to believe it, so nyah. Annnnyway, that's happening to me right now and it is way, way not-cool. The guy who sat next to me on the bus was wearing the worst cologne evar. Granted, I may be missing out on some of the finer(?!) points of it, but it smelled like...okay, if baby powder could go rancid like cooking oil, that's what it would smell like. Holy God, it was horrible. And now I keep smelling it, even though I know it did not get absorbed by me or anything I am wearing. AUUUUGH.

The Buff Bus truly is a center of many strange and wonderful (or rank, that too) things. After a bus epiphany last night I pimpslapped my American Lit group-- figuratively-- with words. Not in a hostile sense, more in a "holy crap, where did all that verbiage and analysis come from?!" After all, what good is being able to talk people into wonder and insensibility if I don't use it? Heeey thur, world, lookit this, sucka! Also, damn, boy, you were right on this count too. If I could hate you for your insight and all that wonderful brain-equipment of yours, I totally would. Except not. Also, professor-Matt gave us Girl Scout cookies because he neglected us during group discussion time. Mmm Samoas, glaaaarrgh so good.

I forgot just how much I like Tarkan until Dudu came up on iTunes just now. Dammit, I sense a downloading spree at some point in the future. Pop from other countries is so much better than our pop, in this case because it hasn't totally forgotten old-school music. Also Tarkan is kind of cute :P

I am not going to have any kind of a weekend this weekend (Fear my powers! I am Redundant Girl!) between midterms and history papers and sagas and this damn Wieland project. So what am I gonna do tonight? Probably call Ryan and spend a lot of time doing nothing like we always do. And it'll be awesome. Fwoo.
Current Mood: busybusy
Current Music: Tarkan- Dudu
filthy assistant
20 February 2006 @ 06:47 pm
Okay, to be perfectly honest, I did go "hah!" all triumphal-like. There is no good excuse for this, but as I said after Shabbat services (Yes, yes I am atheist. But I like new experiences and I live with someone in a religious studies class), I might be the most terrible human being in the room, but at least I have the grace to be ashamed of it. Good enough for me. Other than that...been busy, been cynical. Not in a self-destructive way, I'll be keeping up my hard work on that front even if it kills me, but in a Saul Bellow way. Like observational humor, but less insipid and more funny.

Speaking of insipid observational humor, my personal life, which I have been neglecting dreadfully as per usual standard, is a shambles. The less attention I pay, the more other people do, and I always end up wanting to bang my head into a wall when I finally do realize this. I wish there were a way to say, "Look buddy, snowball's chance in hell, why don't you go talk to that chickie there?" without sounding really really arrogant. Plus I always feel counterproductive even thinking of saying something like that, since I've had this long-abiding frustration with being cool shit and nothing more. The more time goes by the more I see this kind of thing as a gross underestimation and waste of potential. I suppose it's worse now because of everything from my last final forward, but I'd be lying if I said it was ever fun.

Actually, I'm kind of irritated right now and I don't know why. I think it is, like Sheila said, one of those "Bagha smash!" days for everyone. I think this calls for me to stop listening to mentally-abrasive 90s music and go do some reading so I don't feel like a total lout.
Current Mood: irritatedirritated
Current Music: Verve Pipe- The Freshman
filthy assistant
16 February 2006 @ 11:55 am
I have lost the battle and won the war. Frankly, Pyrrhus has nothing on me, but it's kind of cool anyway. As to the loss, I can only sue for peace (fuck, I just borrowed a metaphor from David Eddings completely by accident) and cross my fingers. I think I could give Njal a run for his money. Probably Mord too, but I am not going to use my powers for evil. Shut up, I'm for serious!

Yeah, I know it's cryptic. This is sort of a side effect of doing stuff just to prove a (stupid) point. Yeeeah, get down with your bad kindergarten self! XD Now I'm gonna bust out the crayons and draw pretty pictures. If I feel ambitious, I will draw pretty pictures (this being of course relative. Relative to a kindergartener's art skizzilz) for people. Cheap presents to hang on your fridge to remind yourself you have an idiot savant for a friend. Peace love and Crayola. Bitches.

Damn. Now I wanna go have a snowball fight, since the drunk God of All Colorado Weather saw fit to gift us with a big fucking blizzard-thing out of nowhere last night.
Current Mood: chipperchipper
Current Music: Death Cab for Cutie- Brothers On a Hotel Bed
filthy assistant
14 February 2006 @ 12:08 am
You scored as Special Ops. Special ops. You're sneaky, tactful, and a loner. You prefer to do your jobs alone, working where you don't come into contact with people. But everyonce in a while you hit it big and are noticed and given fame. Your given the more sensitive problems. You get things done, and do what has to be done.



Special Ops










Combat Infantry




Support Gunner


Which soldier type are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

People as a whole do not ever grow up. They just grow older. As evidenced by the spiteful attack on innocent laundry launched by some wretch too dumb to read a clock and too lazy to get off their ass and shift clothes. Some girl and I waited 45 minutes for this guy to take his shit out of the dryers, finally cracked, moved it to the table in there without tampering and loaded our stuff up. The vengeful little prick then proceeded to stroll in, take his stuff, and open every single dryer so the time ran out but nothing got dried. Way to go. I'm sure you roommates appreciate having to pick up your toys and clean the baby food you threw off the walls.

I could say pithy things about that, but I won't. I need sleep, cursed 8:00 class that I have.
Current Mood: busybusy
Current Music: Moby- Rushing