Happy Monday.
This morning I had my final exam in Abnormal Psychology and got a 94%, which give me an “A” in the class. It wasn’t exactly the world’s toughest final.
I’m home sick from work today. Sort of a mixture of exhaustion and a tummy bug. I won’t divulge details on the latter, since I provided waaaay too much information a few weeks ago in my laxative blog. Suffice it to say it’s nice to be in familiar territory. My youngest cat is glaring at me, by the way. It’s like she resents me for being home during “her time.” So, every time I walk by her I wake her up and mess with her. Take that, Stella.
Tomorrow is my final final (forgive my redundancy) and it’s in Public Speaking. I’m giving a five-minute tribute speech to Charles M. Schulz, creator of Peanuts. It should go well, and at 10:50 tomorrow morning yours truly will be done with school for a month or so and can get back to more important matters: writing regularly and driving my wife crazy by constantly whining “I’m boooored.”
There’s lots going on in the world today. Are you staying abreast of the Tookie Williams situation in California? Williams is the founder of the Crips street gang, and he is slated for execution in a multiple-murder. His fate rests in Arnold Schwarzenegger’s hands, much like Maria Shriver’s skeletal breasts often do. Predictably, countless Hollywood has-beens are stepping up to the plate for Williams, Ed Asner and Mike Farrell prominent among them. I always wonder if folks like Asner and Farrell would change their tune if the judge would say “Okay, we’re setting this murderer free, like you wanted. And by the way, he’s moving in with you.” That’s one reality show I’d watch. “Hijinks ensue as B-Grade actors share an apartment with paroled murderer Tookie Williams.”
It always amuses me when people say “How can you be anti-abortion but pro-death penalty? Killing is killing!” I hardly know how to respond. Seems to me that the only offense committed by a fetus is being created from an act that both parties knew might result in pregnancy. I’d hardly compare that to the legacy of folks like Tookie Williams.
People are afraid that violence might erupt if Williams is executed. Gosh, could that be violence similar to that which occurred after the Rodney King trial? You know, when people burned their own neighborhoods to the ground? I’m shaking in my boots from abject fear. Not fear of violence, but fear at the fact that humans can always surprise me with the level of stupidity they’re capable of.
Williams’ supporters are saying that his life should be spared because he writes children’s books from prison. Well, if that’s their reasoning, I think I’ll rape me a 12-year old as a reward to myself for volunteering at the nature preserve this summer.
The thing is, if we could all agree that the death penalty would be abolished in favor of a mandatory life sentence with no possibility of parole, I’d sign on immediately. That’s never the case, however. Here in Minnesota, it’s not uncommon for newscasters to matter-of-factly report that “So-and-so was found guilty yesterday of beheading his grandmother and forcing his grandfather to eat the head, and he received the maximum sentence of 18 months in prison.”
We’ve gotten to the point where we can’t even agree that a life sentence is reasonable in cases of murder. I can tell you this, if someone murdered my wife and received less than life in prison, I would tell the judge at the sentencing that he should plan on seeing me again someday for my own murder trial. The day the murderer was released from prison, I would be waiting, and I would see to it that justice was served.
Becky posted a pretty amusing blog about holiday parties. Both major Twin Cities’ newspapers
printed lengthy stories recently warning people not to get drunk at their companies’ holiday parties. Do adults truly require this refresher each year? You know it’s bad when my mind experiences “sarcasm lock.” I’m wholly incapable of parodying this news because it’s a parody of itself.
My company is having their holiday party at a comedy club, and I think that’s a pretty good idea. The only thing that might conceivably throw a wrench in the works is if the comedian launches into a 20-minute bit about ass-raping his cousin with a donkey dildo. That might cause some discomfort within the ranks, but the comedian in question is working on a sitcom pilot, so methinks the sodomy jokes will be kept to a minimum to ensure Jim Belushi-esque family friendly zaniness.
I saw a gold, circa-1980 minivan this morning that was the biggest piece of shit you can imagine, yet it had a single “spinner” on the back left wheel. What the fuck is that? You can’t do partial bling. Bling is all or nothing.
I’m sort of proud of myself. I was struggling for a Stillwater Gazette column this weekend, and had decided as a last resort to submit Who’s News as a column. However, on the way home from school I received inspiration in the form of countless predatory SUV drivers, and within one hour had a 750 word column prepared. Say it with me now: Tom, you fucking rule. All kidding aside, the ever-lessening pressure thanks to finals drawing to an end is proving immensely valuable from a writing perspective. This should hopefully be a good week for writing.
I’ll tantalize you a bit, against my better judgment: I am hoping that this will be an important week in my writing career. “Tom,” you’re asking, “whatever could you mean?” Well, I’m not going to tell you, so quit asking.
I’m going to annoy my cat some more. I’ll post my Gazette column tomorrow, most likely. Who’s News remains up in the air. Sorry to disappoint my two loyal readers (you know who you are, mom and unidentified stalker).
I’m home sick from work today. Sort of a mixture of exhaustion and a tummy bug. I won’t divulge details on the latter, since I provided waaaay too much information a few weeks ago in my laxative blog. Suffice it to say it’s nice to be in familiar territory. My youngest cat is glaring at me, by the way. It’s like she resents me for being home during “her time.” So, every time I walk by her I wake her up and mess with her. Take that, Stella.
Tomorrow is my final final (forgive my redundancy) and it’s in Public Speaking. I’m giving a five-minute tribute speech to Charles M. Schulz, creator of Peanuts. It should go well, and at 10:50 tomorrow morning yours truly will be done with school for a month or so and can get back to more important matters: writing regularly and driving my wife crazy by constantly whining “I’m boooored.”
There’s lots going on in the world today. Are you staying abreast of the Tookie Williams situation in California? Williams is the founder of the Crips street gang, and he is slated for execution in a multiple-murder. His fate rests in Arnold Schwarzenegger’s hands, much like Maria Shriver’s skeletal breasts often do. Predictably, countless Hollywood has-beens are stepping up to the plate for Williams, Ed Asner and Mike Farrell prominent among them. I always wonder if folks like Asner and Farrell would change their tune if the judge would say “Okay, we’re setting this murderer free, like you wanted. And by the way, he’s moving in with you.” That’s one reality show I’d watch. “Hijinks ensue as B-Grade actors share an apartment with paroled murderer Tookie Williams.”It always amuses me when people say “How can you be anti-abortion but pro-death penalty? Killing is killing!” I hardly know how to respond. Seems to me that the only offense committed by a fetus is being created from an act that both parties knew might result in pregnancy. I’d hardly compare that to the legacy of folks like Tookie Williams.
People are afraid that violence might erupt if Williams is executed. Gosh, could that be violence similar to that which occurred after the Rodney King trial? You know, when people burned their own neighborhoods to the ground? I’m shaking in my boots from abject fear. Not fear of violence, but fear at the fact that humans can always surprise me with the level of stupidity they’re capable of.
Williams’ supporters are saying that his life should be spared because he writes children’s books from prison. Well, if that’s their reasoning, I think I’ll rape me a 12-year old as a reward to myself for volunteering at the nature preserve this summer.
The thing is, if we could all agree that the death penalty would be abolished in favor of a mandatory life sentence with no possibility of parole, I’d sign on immediately. That’s never the case, however. Here in Minnesota, it’s not uncommon for newscasters to matter-of-factly report that “So-and-so was found guilty yesterday of beheading his grandmother and forcing his grandfather to eat the head, and he received the maximum sentence of 18 months in prison.”
We’ve gotten to the point where we can’t even agree that a life sentence is reasonable in cases of murder. I can tell you this, if someone murdered my wife and received less than life in prison, I would tell the judge at the sentencing that he should plan on seeing me again someday for my own murder trial. The day the murderer was released from prison, I would be waiting, and I would see to it that justice was served.
Becky posted a pretty amusing blog about holiday parties. Both major Twin Cities’ newspapers
printed lengthy stories recently warning people not to get drunk at their companies’ holiday parties. Do adults truly require this refresher each year? You know it’s bad when my mind experiences “sarcasm lock.” I’m wholly incapable of parodying this news because it’s a parody of itself.My company is having their holiday party at a comedy club, and I think that’s a pretty good idea. The only thing that might conceivably throw a wrench in the works is if the comedian launches into a 20-minute bit about ass-raping his cousin with a donkey dildo. That might cause some discomfort within the ranks, but the comedian in question is working on a sitcom pilot, so methinks the sodomy jokes will be kept to a minimum to ensure Jim Belushi-esque family friendly zaniness.
I saw a gold, circa-1980 minivan this morning that was the biggest piece of shit you can imagine, yet it had a single “spinner” on the back left wheel. What the fuck is that? You can’t do partial bling. Bling is all or nothing.
I’m sort of proud of myself. I was struggling for a Stillwater Gazette column this weekend, and had decided as a last resort to submit Who’s News as a column. However, on the way home from school I received inspiration in the form of countless predatory SUV drivers, and within one hour had a 750 word column prepared. Say it with me now: Tom, you fucking rule. All kidding aside, the ever-lessening pressure thanks to finals drawing to an end is proving immensely valuable from a writing perspective. This should hopefully be a good week for writing.I’ll tantalize you a bit, against my better judgment: I am hoping that this will be an important week in my writing career. “Tom,” you’re asking, “whatever could you mean?” Well, I’m not going to tell you, so quit asking.
I’m going to annoy my cat some more. I’ll post my Gazette column tomorrow, most likely. Who’s News remains up in the air. Sorry to disappoint my two loyal readers (you know who you are, mom and unidentified stalker).
posted by Admin Worm at 10:03 AM
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