You know, I've always thought legal age limits were silly. Let anyone take an aptitude test, for driving, for drinking, for voting, whatever. If they can do it and do it well, without risking harm to others, let them, no matter how young they might be. Such was my attitude towards gambling, as well. If I can be a good gambler, let me into a casino. Hell, I'm still fiscally more responsible than most of the old folks, who range from recently retired to recently deceased, that you'll find in most casino crowds.
And yet, recently I've been thinking. Maybe I'm not such a responsible gambler. After all, I have flipped coins with Randy for anything up to $10 a flip. And I've played 9-ball games for up to $30 a game as well (thank God I won that one). I know, it's not that impressive. But when you manage to lose $80 in the span of 2 hours, you have to ask yourself, "DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE DOING? GET A FUCKING JOB." Ok, so maybe that last part was not a question.
"How much do you make at your job?"
"Oh, $7.50 an hour."
"Oh that's good."
"What about you?"
"Anywhere from +$90 to -$80."
"..."
-------------
"Oh, Son," my mother said, "why don't you be sensible and go to Harvard or Princeton."
Monday, April 17, 2006
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
An Inspiring Sight
7:02 AM, and I'm going to be late to class if I don't hurry up since it takes forever to walk up the stairs and holy crap what the hell is this car accident doing in the courtyard?
It took me a moment to adjust to this new addition to my morning landscape. I stopped walking. Part of me thought I was dead, that that was my car all smashed up and broken, and that I was having some sort of out-of-my-dead-body experience, where my soul was stopping to survey the scene before passing on to heaven. Then I realized, I wouldn't be going to heaven, so odds are, I was probably still alive.
No, it was just the obligatory prom death car. Week before prom, homecoming, and any other activity where students are liable to have fun, the death car is always rolled out, to scare you into driving 30 miles under the speed limit. I mean, yeah, I get why you would do this, but still... somebody somewhere is just bitter they didn't get to enjoy their prom, so they're trying to rain on our parade.
I'll have you know, things like this, I take as a challenge.
It took me a moment to adjust to this new addition to my morning landscape. I stopped walking. Part of me thought I was dead, that that was my car all smashed up and broken, and that I was having some sort of out-of-my-dead-body experience, where my soul was stopping to survey the scene before passing on to heaven. Then I realized, I wouldn't be going to heaven, so odds are, I was probably still alive.
No, it was just the obligatory prom death car. Week before prom, homecoming, and any other activity where students are liable to have fun, the death car is always rolled out, to scare you into driving 30 miles under the speed limit. I mean, yeah, I get why you would do this, but still... somebody somewhere is just bitter they didn't get to enjoy their prom, so they're trying to rain on our parade.
I'll have you know, things like this, I take as a challenge.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Missed Opportunities
It's too late for an April Fool's Joke isn't it? Blast. You know what's worse? I missed my blog's birthday...
That settles it doesn't it? I am a horrible person. ::sigh:: It has been a really long year, since I started writing this. There's probably about 5 or 6 posts I really like. And a couple drafts that still aren't ready to see the light of day/people's eyes/the internet. A long, long year. Funny, there's only about 5 or 6 memories I'm really fond of too. Life, in 2 month intervals. A higher dosage would probably be lethal.
Today was the transition day. I got all my learning done for the day in chem, first. Then I skipped the last 20 minutes of English after an assembly (I think the 3rd one I have ever been to), so +7 cool points for that. Went to lunch, which was technically not accurate since I didn't eat lunch so it was more like, went to that room where other people have the option to eat lunch if they so choose but me I prefer not to kill myself using chicken patties. For some as yet unexplained reason, I was happy for the most of the day. That went away, which is good, because I'm not ready for Happiness. I'd like a little bit more time with my current mistresses, Confusion, Complaceny, and Complaint. A funner orgy was never had by anyone. Yes, I know, that last sentence would not make a good SAT question on the Writing section.
Wow. I have nothing to write about. Or maybe I expect too much in the way of estimating what you might like to hear. Maybe you'd be content with discourses on why Burger King is slowly killing me.
P.S. I am fat.
P.P.S. Yay greasy foods, no exercise, and stress. The over/under on my developing diabetes is 2010. Takers?
That settles it doesn't it? I am a horrible person. ::sigh:: It has been a really long year, since I started writing this. There's probably about 5 or 6 posts I really like. And a couple drafts that still aren't ready to see the light of day/people's eyes/the internet. A long, long year. Funny, there's only about 5 or 6 memories I'm really fond of too. Life, in 2 month intervals. A higher dosage would probably be lethal.
Today was the transition day. I got all my learning done for the day in chem, first. Then I skipped the last 20 minutes of English after an assembly (I think the 3rd one I have ever been to), so +7 cool points for that. Went to lunch, which was technically not accurate since I didn't eat lunch so it was more like, went to that room where other people have the option to eat lunch if they so choose but me I prefer not to kill myself using chicken patties. For some as yet unexplained reason, I was happy for the most of the day. That went away, which is good, because I'm not ready for Happiness. I'd like a little bit more time with my current mistresses, Confusion, Complaceny, and Complaint. A funner orgy was never had by anyone. Yes, I know, that last sentence would not make a good SAT question on the Writing section.
Wow. I have nothing to write about. Or maybe I expect too much in the way of estimating what you might like to hear. Maybe you'd be content with discourses on why Burger King is slowly killing me.
P.S. I am fat.
P.P.S. Yay greasy foods, no exercise, and stress. The over/under on my developing diabetes is 2010. Takers?
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