The context was I don’t remember. That was the context.

Check this shiz out:

These are the directions for an assignment I just threw down, they’re pretty classic.  It only took me 18 minutes to draft up four pages for this baby because I’m quick like that.

Random note:

This old guy with a gross beard is surfing Google Images for pron as we speak.  I also saw him on a blog a minute ago with a bunch of swastikas.  I’m worried and hope two things: that he isn’t armed, and that if he is, that he doesn’t catch me spying him.  What a skeez.

In other events, I took the shuttle out to Buffalo Thunder Casino yesterday on a quest out to my friend’s house for supper, the shuttle driver didn’t even ask if I was going to gamble.  I was pleased I didn’t have to lie to him – I hate lying to strangers.  I had a beer in my bag that I contemplated twisting the cap off and sipping on the way because there was only one other person riding, but since it was a virgin voyage I didn’t want to get tossed.

I also contemplated going into the casino and tossing some dough in the slut machines, but I thought better of it and decided to breathe the crisp fresh air while I took in the gorgeous mountain views of my youth.

Sublime.  I wish I would have had a j.

I was also able to  save on gas and I didn’t have to chance my old-school Toyota overheating on my ass, cuz it likes to do that from time to time for no apparent reason.  I know I should take it in, but I fear it’s a blown gasket or perhaps something to do with the thermometer, either way I don’t wanna get hustled by the mechanic and end up like four-hondo in the hole.  I have terrible luck with mechanics.

We had a good time catching up at my friend’s house.  He is off to Iraq/Afghanistan again at the end of March for his second tour of duty in the Army.  It’s going to suck to see my best friend from childhood put his life at risk again, but at least it will be for a President we both believe in this time around.

It was a blast to rehash the past – going over all the crazy shit we did when we were kids like hijacking his parents humongous light blue suburban when we were 12 and taking it on a joy ride to Dairy Queen when we could barely even reach the gas pedal, much less the brake.

Or the time we both sat in a huge ass red ant pile and had to take a mud bath to heal the stinging wounds that covered our bodies.

Or the time we busted out the crayons and markers and took to graffiti’ing the kitchen walls.  We thought we were gonna get killed when his dad got home from work, but thankfully he liked our artwork before making us paint over it.

Oh shit, now that skeez next to me has pics up of two naked guys going at it,. What a perv, seriously.  I mean do that shit in private man, or at least where nobody else can catch glimpes of your screen.  I’m not even trying to look, but when I turn my head for whatever reason his screen is right in the path.  He could at least turn his screen toward the wall and like hunker his shoulder over it or something.  Yes, I said ‘hunker’.

I haven’t called Athena back yet.  I’m gonna do the Swingers two-day rule, at least.  Shit, I don’t know.  I probably won’t even ring her.

What else, oh I got a few pages into Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle last night after I got home.  I had a theory about bokononism.  It sounds like the word comes from a amalgamation of ‘book-of-no-isms’.  I could probably Google that shit up, but I don’t want to be proved wrong, at least not before I finish the book and come up with other half-baked theories.  I like to entertain my silly thoughts while I’m reading a book and I don’t like to do research about it until I’m finished reading it.  I find this helps me come up with my own opinions instead of reading for a certain message that some so-called scholar says thinks the book is about.  I don’t like to be mentally corruptible in my literary life, especially when reading for pleasure.

That being said, for my freelance writing gig I don’t even read the books I do reports about.  I just straight Google it, copy/paste the important quotes/references I’m going to use, and then wax poetic about the major theme.  My introductions and conclusions are usually the longest paragraphs.  However, I just got promoted to the next level so I must be doing something right.

I still haven’t come to a moral/ethical standpoint about what I’m doing.  On the one hand, these students are only hurting their own intelligence while helping me pay my bills.  I also don’t have a boss, I get to set my own schedule, and I get to pique my interest in a wide range of disciplines.  I like to think that I’m getting paid to be a student.

And really, some of these projects are straight ridiculous and deserve to be pimped out to a professional writer who can spew them out without thinking twice, as in the case I presented to begin this post.  ‘It doesn’t even have to be a real person.’!  I just love that shit.

Even if the directions stated explicitly that it had to be a real person that I need to interview, I would still make the person up – which is odd considering that I based this particular order off a real person when they said I could make one up.

I guess I just have to subconsciously subvert the rules I’m given.  Or, as one college professor who loved me said, “I’m catching on to your style, you’re a trickster.”  I thought she meant something negative by this until she gave me an A in the class and offered to write a letter of recommendation to any graduate program in the nation in my honor.

And she’s got mad connects.

Too bad I don’t think I’m the grad-school type, which probably means that I’m exactly the grad-school type.  Fuck it, I definitely don’t need any more student loans and I’m doing what I like anyway.

Plus I’m gonna hit the lotto next week.


~ by garcialoca on February 16, 2009.

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