Today I had my first test of the community college term – by the way I’m writing this while watching Veronica Mars episode one of season one which I recently downloaded but can’t figure out how to burn onto a disc, help me David, I’m retarded! Like always I didn’t start studying for the test until what is basically considered the morning of the test. I started studying and was doing good for awhile until a special girl hopped online because she couldn’t sleep because she went to IHOP and ordered the all you can eat pancakes and then proceeded to try and put the company out of business all while not letting the pancakes do an ounce of detriment to her figure. We decided to watch the movie The Darjeeling Limited together while thousands of miles apart. Well maybe not thousands, but I would say a thousand and some good change. So after the movie was done she got ready for school and I was free to study – by the way, watching The Darjeeling Limited while talking about the movie with a very smart articulate girl is way better than studying about boring, and might I add depressing, slavery (I wonder if calling studying about slavery boring could be considered racist?) in this day and age I’m convinced everything is racist. But anyway I was supposed to start studying but I decided I should eat a disgusting bowl of oatmeal instead. It was instant oatmeal and it was God damn disgusting. I’m generally not a picky eater, in fact I almost prefer the mashed potatoes that come in a microwave dinner to homemade ones, but instant oatmeal is a billion times worst than making it on the stove.
So I didn’t get to study as much as I had hoped, but I did read over a few things and watched two videos on youtube that were apparently lectures from a history teacher at Yale – I find my teacher to be a million times more fascinating and a thousand times funnier – and surprisingly when it came time to take the test I did far better than I thought I would. I’d be more shocked than Silk the Shocker if I got anything less than an A, like a B for an example, in case you’ve forgot what is lower than an A. I guess Silk the Shocker didn’t get shocked but instead did the shocking himself. He was a rapper in the 90s and perhaps early 20s but his rapping wasn’t anywhere near controversial (unlike Mystical who suggested that we ‘shake our ass, but watch ourselves, shake our ass, show him what we’re working with’) and he didn’t generate any kind of magnetism, so the name Silk the Shocker appears rather untoward (he heard Tracy Morgan’s character on 30 Rock use the word ‘untoward’ and since then he tries to use it whenever he can) I do not. That accusation is untoward. Perhaps Silk the Shocker wore silk boxers?
I often wore polyester boxers and it wasn’t uncommon that people would mistake them for silk. Why? Because polyester and silk apparently look similar. But the more important question is why were my boxers exposed so much that it wasn’t uncommon for people to mistake their fabric? Alcohol, my friends. Lots and lots of alcohol. But luckily not enough to ever be devoid of my boxers in public, except on one unfortunate occasion. But that’s a story for another time. A time when I don’t have doughnuts to eat.