Apparently strumming isn't an aerobic exercise...
Another one of those Friday's where I have to get up at 7:30 for that dag blasted PE class. Thankfully, this morning there was no workout involved, just a test based on our lecture that I likely failed miserably. Due, as always, to the fact that I don't study. Hopefully a round of depressing failures at the end of this half of the semester will assist me in finding time to escape and study. Escape the confines of club meetings and and my beautiful white Apple ibook . Speaking of depressing things, how about those health classes in general. You pretty much go in, listen to them tell you exactly how you should live if you want to last any longer than 60, then force sign some "behavioral change" contract that you know you aren't going to keep. Every time my hand made a loop in my signature I was picturing Krispee Kreme doughnuts...
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Like...the ones with raspberry in them....or the ones with that creme stuff...
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...mmmmmm
I just realized how creepy Clint Eastwood's stare is on my "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" poster. He needs to chill with that. I can't even think man. OH YEAH. I know you are all on the edge of your seats with excitement over how my progress with the guitar is coming. I'm happy to report that my calluses are back! Now I can practice for periods longer than 4 minutes without crying like a girl from the pains of fretting. Also, as I side note, I've been learning that song "Daughters" for the past few days, mostly because John Mayer is the bane of my roommate's existence. I see it as a way to punish him for the at LEAST 20 hours of Led Zeppelin he's forced me to listen to. Don't get me wrong. I love my Zep, but there is a point where Jimmy Page's "Total Owning" of the guitar starts to loose it's value. It is For Roch's theft of that value that I sometimes even add in a little whispering artificial John voice, complete with random moans. I think he especially appreciates that touch. MUAH HAHAHA.
I love the smell of napalm in the morning
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