I grew out my facial hair for 2 and a half months and then decided to style a new beard for every day of finals. Survived finals one day one beard at a time. For your viewing pleasure:

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Patriot Act

Someone had terrible gas in the airplane. Where's the patriot act when you need it?

Prepare the colon to return fire!

The whole plane sat on the tarmac for at least 15 minutes after we landed in Medford Oregon because the people in the Tower (a glorified term for the two drunks with binoculars in a hunting stand) on top of the airport (another 18 cent word I'm using to describe the shed the hunting stand was sitting on) had apparently smelled the fart on the plane and were otherwise too incapacitated to direct the pilot to one of the 3 available gates for de-boarding. The pilot, paralyzed by the open ended math problem facing him, decided the best course of action was to sit with all of the passengers and wait for the tower to wake up from their shit coma.

Plane A leaves Denver traveling west at 326 mph for 2 hours and 43 minutes, arrives with 59 normal passengers and 1 carrying a polluted payload. Plane A comes to a complete stand still at soon to be shit-stained airport. What is the difference between the captain's capacity for spatial reasoning and the passengers' perception of the passage of time as the limit of the passengers' tolerance for fecal math jokes approaches zero?


Shaking like a Rockstar

It's been 9 days since my last sip of a caffeinated drink. Prior to that (see my previous post) I was drinking a lot of coffee. Lots. Too much. I know that because my headache went away.

Today I was walking through Denver International Airport. My flight from Denver to SF was delayed an hour, which would have put me in a major crunch to get on my flight to Medford, OR. The airline gods are on my side today. 1 seat available on a direct flight to Medford? Check. After a satisfy interaction with the airplane guy behind the desk, I got to march a mile to the new gate. On my journey I stumbled across a ROCKSTAR energy drink.

It's hard to describe exactly how I felt about seeing this. I do not need energy to fly. In fact, I would rather drink a beer or two (or 6) and get on the plane and sleep for a couple hours. I'm not a particularly nervous flyer, but sometimes if I act that way I can get extra booze for free on the airplanes. Something different about today. The rockstar. I don't need any caffeine. I don't need energy, awareness, increase HR, shakes, or the diuretic effect of caffeine prior to boarding my flight.

It's calling my name. I bought it. Drank it. Now I'm sitting at my gate waiting (and now shaking). The feeling I got when I saw the drink (I'm bad at telling stories) was happiness. I know exactly what the physiological response to this drink is supposed to be. I know that I'm going to shake, and eventually crash. But all I can think, looking at the rockstar, is that drinking it is going to make me happy. Satisified? Thirst Quenched? Energetic? NAY. Looking at the Rockstar made me feel fucking euphoric.

Anyone know where I can score some cocaine?


Caffeine Pit Stains

It's the end of finals week. Strung out and tired for nearly 3 weeks of studying like a maniac. Bags under my eyes. Stacks of neglected laundry, mail, dirty dishes. Mountains of rewritten notes, drawings, textbooks, photocopies. A whole tree's worth of paper in the trash can. Pens and pencils stashed in every coat, pants, and backpack pocket of every pants, coat and backpack I own. Broke. Scraping by on what's left of ego waffles and campbell's soup. 1 more exam left. Functioning purely on instinct and caffeine. I'm practically sweating coffee. It's ridiculous but I'm here because I believe in what I'm doing. This is going to pay off. I'm here for a reason. One more exam.