Rest In Peace

Seriously, forget the drama that has plagued him since 1988. He was a bad, bad man. Don't think so? Go dig up "Funky Drummer" parts 1 and 2 and listen to them over and over. They're just ridonkulous. You'll be conviced and converted.


I have a very fond memory of using "Get On Up" to wake up my sister when she came to visit me in college. I just blasted it on the stereo and we danced our asses off in the early morning. It worked better than any alarm clock ever has and put us in such a good mood for the day. Makes me happy even now. Thanks, Godfather.

The Pink Pig

Today was Joey's annual "guys' shopping day" at Lenox and Phipps malls. Typically, it starts with a group of about 15 guys getting together for drinks and light appetizers at one of the few bars in the mall. Then, after a good hour or so of socializing, we tend to be more amenable to shopping. So, after a couple of mojitos at Prime, we split for some shopping before meeting up again for another round of drinks and more alienating the patrons around us. (Tonight's surrounding patrons included Dominque Wilkins; I think we were equal opportunity offenders and not blinded by celebrity.)

Anywho, during our lightning round shopping, J3K decided to give me my holiday present, a human anatomy book. Part of the reason he chose it, however, was because it is enormous, heavy, and completely conspicuous. So, in kind, I decide to purchase us tickets to ride the Pink Pig at Macy's. We stand in line together for about 20 minutes waiting to ride the darned thing. Seriously, it's the two of us and a sea of 4-year-olds and their parents. I'd not felt this out of place since Parris and I bought tickets to a matinee showing of "Elf" on opening day. (That, of course, is another story.)

After an eternal wait, we finally get up to the front before the pink-clad high school workers pulled the velvet rope in front of us. Denied again! This did, however, mean that we'd get the very front on the next ride. After a few minutes, the ride concludes and the freshman opens the rope for us. We sprint to the front of the pig and shove ourselves into the first seat. I'm essentially sitting in J3K's lap holding the Pink Pig's ears to stay up. The "safety guy" comes by and tells us that, unless the seatbelt buckles, there is no way we're going to be able to ride the pig in our present state. Actually, there is no way in hell that the buckle would even remotely close. Luckily, J3K had a satchel with him that had a plastic clasp that matched the seatbelt. I clipped the belt into the satchel and fooled the safety guy. Then, we were home free.

Honestly, it was a disappointing ride. No loop-de-loops. It was vaguely haunting with a bunch of pink pigs everywhere and some overdone Southern accent narration piped in. Imagine the 'Pig in a Poke' set from the beginning of "European Vacation" and you're halfway there. Freaky, it was just freaky.

After a couple of laps, the ride was over and J3K and I quickly made our way to the Olan Mills studio for our free photo to commemorate our ride. My friends, I share with you our proud moment.

Note the enormous Human Anatomy book which weighs about 15 pounds.
If you carry it through the mall, no fewer than 50 people will stop you to inquire about it.

Happy holidays.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, I Have an Ulcer

Two finals today. Animals and Evolution and Organic Chemistry. Pretty damned stupid to take them both on the last day but, man, is that beer going to taste delicious tonight. Presently, however, I think I've got a bit of an ulcer. Oh well, must get to studying. I have more good grades to destroy by taking the finals.

As soon I opened my eyes at 4:55 this morning, I was fully awake yet terribly tired. Mr. Tambourine Man has been running through my head. (And, of course, Europe's "The Final Countdown.") Anywho, I suppose that there are worse things to have in your head. For example, I could be thinking about evolutionary patterns, how cells depolarize to allow conduction of an action potential, or even the mechanism for an oxymercuration-reduction reaction. Nope. Lyrics. I've got friggin' lyrics. Think I can get extra credit for them?

I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade into my own parade
Here are the parts from Dylan's "Mr. Tambourine Man" that are repeating over and over and over in my head:

Though I know that evenin's empire has returned into sand,
Vanished from my hand,
Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping.
My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Take me on a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship,
My senses have been stripped, my hands can't feel to grip,
My toes too numb to step, wait only for my boot heels
To be wanderin'.
I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade
Into my own parade, cast your dancing spell my way,
I promise to go under it.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

The Answer For Every Question

If I could submit a video answer for every question to which I must respond on my final exams, the following would be that answer.



It is, after all, perfectly aligned with my test-taking strategy.

Finals

I've been terribly busy lately getting my ass kicked by school. More peaks and valleys. Lately, mostly valleys.

Anywho, I'm in the midst of finals. It's pretty strange actually. They're all self-scheduled which means that I take them whenever I choose. Prior to the end of classes, everyone purchases an "exam envelope" and provides it to each professor. The prof places the exam in your envelope and sends it to the central testing building. Then, when you want to take an exam, you simply show up at one of the exam periods (9am, 2pm, 6pm) and request the subject you want to take. Pretty strange but interesting.

Yesterday, I show up to take my physics final. Without a doubt, I was the only male in a sea of women. When I walked into the hall a few minutes before exams were distributed, a hush fell over large group of previous chatty women. Seriously, nothing but crickets.

I stood there waiting, feeling everyone scrutinizing my every move. Suddenly, I remembered a nightmare I had before I started the program:

In this dream, I was standing in line at the library with my arms full of books getting ready to check out. The place was packed. Curiously, I felt a draft down below. I looked down to see my fly open and, let's just say, the horse was out of the barn. So, I'm trying to get back in my pants and zip my fly in a crowded, quiet library without drawing any attention to myself.

I woke up in absolute panic. Anywho, this is the feeling that I had yesterday. Nonchalantly, I tried to check my fly to make sure it was up. Then, I realized how bad it would look for some strange guy to be really nervously touching his crotch in a big group of young college gals.

I fully expected my last memories to be of the deafening sound of one-hundred rape whistles being blown in unison and of the blinding effect of pepper spray.