OH MY GOD MY LIFE IS A SWIRLING MASS OF PAIN!
Or at least this week sucks.
But wait--Robot Chicken just came on. Let me put you on hold.
All right. One episode of Robot Chicken later, life looks better. But still, things are pretty gruesome. I have a computer project in stat due tomorrow and there are a couple of parts I'm not sure on yet. Cantay smash!
And don't forget the paper I've got due on Wednesday at noon! That's like... 60 hours away! Only 60 hours! Damn!
And some of those hours have to be used to work on my French oral! I'm going to have to research Senegal, write about it, then fix the grammar for whatever my partner writes for her country, then memorize all of it! Why God? Why?!
All right. Robot Chicken will be coming back on soon. I need to drown my sorrow before researching Senegal.
Repetitive words? So what. I'm in extreme death mode!
(And I have to call this professor at UMD who we know who will help me figure out what I'm doing--just to throw in some flavor.)
And... holy God! It's not Robot Chicken at all! It's Aqua Teen!
Alas, I shall take it. Anything but Saved By The Bell.
Hasta la Byebye.
Or at least this week sucks.
But wait--Robot Chicken just came on. Let me put you on hold.
All right. One episode of Robot Chicken later, life looks better. But still, things are pretty gruesome. I have a computer project in stat due tomorrow and there are a couple of parts I'm not sure on yet. Cantay smash!
And don't forget the paper I've got due on Wednesday at noon! That's like... 60 hours away! Only 60 hours! Damn!
And some of those hours have to be used to work on my French oral! I'm going to have to research Senegal, write about it, then fix the grammar for whatever my partner writes for her country, then memorize all of it! Why God? Why?!
All right. Robot Chicken will be coming back on soon. I need to drown my sorrow before researching Senegal.
Repetitive words? So what. I'm in extreme death mode!
(And I have to call this professor at UMD who we know who will help me figure out what I'm doing--just to throw in some flavor.)
And... holy God! It's not Robot Chicken at all! It's Aqua Teen!
Alas, I shall take it. Anything but Saved By The Bell.
Hasta la Byebye.
1 Comments:
At 01 May, 2006 01:52,
Anonymous said…
oh no, this is the last one!
Dear Mr.Fuentes,
Recently, I have been writing letters to other large-company CEOs, all from the point of view of an Irish setter named Steven. For you, though, I will be writing as a small bird, probably a hummingbird, named Buck. Here goes:
When I was young and hungry always, my mother left me and my siblings alone as she hopped around the field, looking for food and sticks with which to line our nest. When she was gone we opened our mouths, waiting for food, our eyes green-blue peas covered with the thinnest pink skin.
When she was gone we sometimes taught each other songs. I don't remember any of the songs, or why we sang them. Months later we all flew away and I never saw any of them again, my siblings or mother. We small birds are unsentimental because we can fly!
But you know what? I'm not actually a small bird. I am a dog named Steven. I could never fool you - I'm a fast goddamn dog and I run around trees like a rocket-seeking rocket. Hooo! Hoooooo! I don't need any bird, any small bird asking for food! No way, man! I'm running and running on the dry hot grass and it's like I never wanted to bark again, if I can just keep running. If I can keeping running, turning like a skier, staying low, I'll never want to just bark and bark and bark - oh sweet Jesus, let me keep running! I'm just so fucking afraid of getting tired, you know, man?
Mr. Fuentes, your attention is appreciated
Post a Comment
<< Home