Friday Afternoon Bullshit
I had to edit some stuff in the old blog. First, people complained about the Jose Offerman Rant. They said it wasn't quite up to par with the rest of my stellar entries, and plus, I got a lot of complaints about the Mary-Kate Olsen joke. So I had to go back. I was going to edit all of it, but then I thought, I need to assert some control in the situation and earn some respect, so I didn't edit the entry, I just finished it. I also didn't earn any respect in the process, but I feel better about the whole thing.
Second, I erased an entry entitled, "The Worst Story Ever," for obvious reasons. Some people like my stories, but for the most part, they're better in person, when you really feel like you just wasted your time and lowered your IQ within ten minutes. I really have to give credit to my buddy Dave, who, sophomore year, would sit in my room endlessly listening to the dumbest stories ever. And this kid kept coming back and asking for more! I can't tell you how many times I would just tell him things like, "So I went to the classroom, and the teacher wasn't there. The end." And he would listen to me. Or at least he would kind of look like he was listening. He wasn't moving or anything though, so I'm not sure if he was an amazing listener or especially adept at sleeping with his eyes open. Regardless (OH, and as a note to all morons: irregardless is not a word), the entry = gone. You're welcome.
On another note, there is this strange phenomenon with the mail at BU. Something happens where it magically disappears. The administration claims that mail always disappears, it's just part of the US Mail System, but that is bulllllshit. Yes. Bullllsheeeeet. I spent sophomore year researching this issue for the Student Union. I prepared a whole 20 page document, set up meetings with the US Postal Service, etc. and for what?! It all went to waste because NOTHING HAS BEEN DONE. Well, take that back. The Towers mailboxes now have to have "s" next to "box" which does help I guess, but they're about as qualified as a blind cow is to distribute the mail. How would you like a blind cow delivering your mail? Exactly.
They just suck. They read the magazines, their attempts to sort through the mail are just feckless at best. How many times have you walked by the mailroom and actually seen an employee WORKING? Every time I walk by - EVERY TIME! - I always see someone reading something or sitting there doing nothing. And of course, if you should stop and ask when the mail's delivered, you're being completely rude and presumptuous. How dare you ask a question of a BU employee and - GASP - expect that they should want to help you! OH MY GOD! A WORK STUDY STUDENT HAVING TO DO ACTUAL WORK! (This is not meant to disparage good work study students who do good work. I know the few that do that. And "the" is used on purpose.)
So yeah. It's laughable to me that administrators say that mail gets lost. Isn't it funny that only my cards get lost? I haven't lost any of those BU letters, only Halloween and Valentine's Day cards. Don't even get me started on stealing someone's VALENTINE'S DAY card. That automatically qualifies you for going to hell.
I am getting grumpy I think. I love that word, grumpy. Do they still make the seven dwarf stuffed animals? I want a grumpy one I think. Only dwarfs are kind of ugly. Okay, really ugly.
Anyhow, I was at Fenway and people were being jerks and a lot of stuff was going on. So at one point, I had to tell this guy to stop smoking. These smokers think they're so smart. As I'm telling them they have to go to Yawkey Way, behind homeplate, they're like, "Oh yeah? [Puff] Where's [puff] homeplate? Is that where [puff] the batter [puff] stands?" You get the idea. So normally I'm okay about it, because I don't really care all that much as long as they're not smoking in my face. I hate smoking, but I don't like regulating it or anything. So anyhow, last night was not the night to mess with me. (Doesn't that sound tough?) The guy starts smoking, and I tell him, "If you take one more drag, you will be watching the game from a tv at the local bar." And so he doesn't. And then I turned around, and he lit up ANOTHER CIGARETTE. I thought I was going to kill him. So I go over to the guy, and in my nicest "I'm laughing but dead serious" voice I start yelling, "Sir! Did I NOT just tell you not to smoke? And did I NOT just tell you where you could smoke? And I'm sorry, but I could have SWORN that I told you that if you took one more drag of a cigarette that you would be removed from Fenway Park? Does any of that sound familiar? BECAUSE IT ALL SHOULD. PUT IT OUT OR GET OUT." It sounds like I was really in charge there, but not quite, because I was trying really hard not to smile or laugh while yelling this at this red-faced guy who was puffing away like a freak. So it was half-yell half-smile/laugh, which really wasn't that impressive at all. I can't do anything with a straight face anymore.
I need to write an entry about Beverly Hills 90210. I can't believe I haven't done it already. Next time.
Second, I erased an entry entitled, "The Worst Story Ever," for obvious reasons. Some people like my stories, but for the most part, they're better in person, when you really feel like you just wasted your time and lowered your IQ within ten minutes. I really have to give credit to my buddy Dave, who, sophomore year, would sit in my room endlessly listening to the dumbest stories ever. And this kid kept coming back and asking for more! I can't tell you how many times I would just tell him things like, "So I went to the classroom, and the teacher wasn't there. The end." And he would listen to me. Or at least he would kind of look like he was listening. He wasn't moving or anything though, so I'm not sure if he was an amazing listener or especially adept at sleeping with his eyes open. Regardless (OH, and as a note to all morons: irregardless is not a word), the entry = gone. You're welcome.
On another note, there is this strange phenomenon with the mail at BU. Something happens where it magically disappears. The administration claims that mail always disappears, it's just part of the US Mail System, but that is bulllllshit. Yes. Bullllsheeeeet. I spent sophomore year researching this issue for the Student Union. I prepared a whole 20 page document, set up meetings with the US Postal Service, etc. and for what?! It all went to waste because NOTHING HAS BEEN DONE. Well, take that back. The Towers mailboxes now have to have "s" next to "box" which does help I guess, but they're about as qualified as a blind cow is to distribute the mail. How would you like a blind cow delivering your mail? Exactly.
They just suck. They read the magazines, their attempts to sort through the mail are just feckless at best. How many times have you walked by the mailroom and actually seen an employee WORKING? Every time I walk by - EVERY TIME! - I always see someone reading something or sitting there doing nothing. And of course, if you should stop and ask when the mail's delivered, you're being completely rude and presumptuous. How dare you ask a question of a BU employee and - GASP - expect that they should want to help you! OH MY GOD! A WORK STUDY STUDENT HAVING TO DO ACTUAL WORK! (This is not meant to disparage good work study students who do good work. I know the few that do that. And "the" is used on purpose.)
So yeah. It's laughable to me that administrators say that mail gets lost. Isn't it funny that only my cards get lost? I haven't lost any of those BU letters, only Halloween and Valentine's Day cards. Don't even get me started on stealing someone's VALENTINE'S DAY card. That automatically qualifies you for going to hell.
I am getting grumpy I think. I love that word, grumpy. Do they still make the seven dwarf stuffed animals? I want a grumpy one I think. Only dwarfs are kind of ugly. Okay, really ugly.
Anyhow, I was at Fenway and people were being jerks and a lot of stuff was going on. So at one point, I had to tell this guy to stop smoking. These smokers think they're so smart. As I'm telling them they have to go to Yawkey Way, behind homeplate, they're like, "Oh yeah? [Puff] Where's [puff] homeplate? Is that where [puff] the batter [puff] stands?" You get the idea. So normally I'm okay about it, because I don't really care all that much as long as they're not smoking in my face. I hate smoking, but I don't like regulating it or anything. So anyhow, last night was not the night to mess with me. (Doesn't that sound tough?) The guy starts smoking, and I tell him, "If you take one more drag, you will be watching the game from a tv at the local bar." And so he doesn't. And then I turned around, and he lit up ANOTHER CIGARETTE. I thought I was going to kill him. So I go over to the guy, and in my nicest "I'm laughing but dead serious" voice I start yelling, "Sir! Did I NOT just tell you not to smoke? And did I NOT just tell you where you could smoke? And I'm sorry, but I could have SWORN that I told you that if you took one more drag of a cigarette that you would be removed from Fenway Park? Does any of that sound familiar? BECAUSE IT ALL SHOULD. PUT IT OUT OR GET OUT." It sounds like I was really in charge there, but not quite, because I was trying really hard not to smile or laugh while yelling this at this red-faced guy who was puffing away like a freak. So it was half-yell half-smile/laugh, which really wasn't that impressive at all. I can't do anything with a straight face anymore.
I need to write an entry about Beverly Hills 90210. I can't believe I haven't done it already. Next time.
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