So, you might have noticed, but I kinda vanished from the face of the internet for the last couple of weeks. Couple reasons for it. First, the semester's coming to a close, which means all those projects/papers that I've been putting off...well, they can't be put off any longer. As such, I'm working double-time in the research department, and have more or less established one corner of the college library as mine. To the point where people go there to look for me, before trying me at home or calling my cell. My corner kind of resembles a cell, actually, but not the portable kind.
Speaking of cell phones, that brings me to the other reason I've been seemingly vaporized. For about two weeks, I was worthlessly, bedriddenly sick. Like, wearing a pile of winter coats under an electric blanket in 70 degree weather, unable to do anything but shiver and cough sick. The docs said it was strep, but I know better.
Joey Gumb, of Forever on a Tree fame, sent me a picture via cell phone. This picture was of a plastic action figure shaped like (supposedly) an angry syphilis germ. Attached was a caption along the lines of "I just gave you syphilis, bitch." The next day? Sick.
That's right, ladies and gents. Biological warfare on the net-author front. He's obviously trying to take out the competition by infecting his contemporaries with e-syphilis (compatible with iPus). I got back at him, though. I made that picture of the syphilis germ his custom icon. This means that whenever he texts me, a little syphilis germ pops up to let me know. Heh.
Bad news is, since it's a Textually Transmitted Disease, anyone I've texted since is at risk of contracting the e-syph. I suggest taking peni-cell-in.
In non-syphilis news, I found out that, if all goes according to plan, I'll be graduating at this time next year. Huzzah for getting into the job market right when there's a huge recession! But I've got a secret weapon. That's right: macaroni necklace. Oh, yes, I'm bringing out the big guns. Nobody turns down an applicant with uncooked pasta around his neck. Know why? Shows I'm prepared. "Yeah, I see you eyeing my noodles. Go ahead and laugh, but when the great Midwest Earthquake hits, and we're trapped under a pile of rubble, then we'll see who's laughing: the guy with no food, or the guy with a string of carbohydrates strewn 'round his clavicle."
Keep the sails high, pavement pirates.
"And that?s the reason that we came and add a twist-ah.
I thought that punk was all about the freedom, mister!
Don't want to be the sound to tick off your list,
We're bigger than this punk rock!"
"Bigger Than Punk Rock" by Sonic Boom Six