Rob

I slept on a workout mat in the pool for 2 hours

Well it has happend. I am back in school, without a location to sleep really. today I woke up from Tommys futon and bought my book and then sat in class, miserable. I enjoy my teacher, she seems as if she has a real good idea of what academia is and yadadadadadaadadada, however...

Has anyone seen that Chappell Show sketch with the Wrap it up box? I've never wanted one of those more in my entire life, and this includes when I was way younger and my parents were bitching me out about eating too much pizza, not enough veggies. My teacher (or maybe just the class) could put someone with clinical insomnia to sleep. Tommorow my head will be filled with "Less talking, more shut the fuck up!" I'm sure and again for another 13 academic days. Thank God for Memorial day.

I'm not going to allow my class to get too into their PC thug dead white male bashing like I know is going to happen. I've already begun my plan to subvert any influences I don't feel will be class appropriate. When we were asked the best thing we have read over the last year, it was between Paul Clark Original Poetry and The Dharmmapada. I choose that and told the story of how I was reading that at the pool during my vacation, while the rest of my young family were at busch gardens. I glanced up from my chair and saw a girl splashing, and about 3 seconds later it translated in my brain as "Hmm, I think that girl is drowning" and I saved her. True story, in fact, my mom thinks it is divine intervention or something that will only help me develop my God complex.

After class I went to the rec-center and tried to go swimming but instead I passed out on the workout mat next to the pool and then sat in the sped shower, planning my next move. And more tommorow.

"They just want to take some joy out of the day"

Walking hand and hand
The devil and I discuss politics
Politely
while the pitterpatter
provides a hollow shell
shielding the flames of blame
The dagger is Heroism
The living is in the hereticism
The truth in the silence
Satan protests too much
When I suggest simplicity
Life is too un-ironic
For the blessed
or the crazy
To exile, a vortex, to another wasteland.

"Talentless Ass Clown"

There's too easy
There's shooting fish
There's a slam dunk
(Which does not belong,
but I digress)
Oh, cliched ease
How I mock thee
Ask a blind man to find the barrel
Or throw a ball in a hoop
Do not ask him to describe Orange
Because round and tangy
would get more undeserved laughs
Than Dane Cook on a drunken Saturday

Love, Rob

Posted by rob at May 19, 2009 5:09 PM