With My Feet on the Dash the World Doesn't Matter

Yesterday started off just like any normal day. I woke up, went to class, read some books, and surfed the internet.

But then...

I went to dinner.

And it wasn't just an ordinary dinner. It was a formal dinner. A formal dinner that invited everyone to bring their own booze.

Which is rather interesting because there is a 24/7 drinking ban in the dorms between last Monday and November 11.

I just happened to have a 5th of Vodka chilling in my room.

Dinner was great. Afterwards, I watched Ole dance around on stage at the performing arts center.

We then traveled to the on-campus bar.

Next thing I knew, I was on the phone calling Eric Engler back home. I fucking drunk-dialed the United States.

And then I wrote an amazing poetic e-mail which suggests that I should get pissy and write more often. But then I remembered that I had an English teacher that told me that this is not such a good idea.

Ahhh... good times. Good times...

I miss all of you, don't forget that.

In other news: I got an 84% on my Psychology essay. That's almost a A+ here at Waikato. That's the 4th highest grade out of 40 people. The best part about it, the essay was pretty much a "fuck you" mentalism paper. Ya... I know, it's not easy being a genius. :-p

I Just Discovered This Hilarious Comic Strip Called 'Garfield'

I don't usually spend a lot of time reading the comics pages (you know me: straight to the real-estate section!), but last weekend I found this...