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wow.

wowee wowee wow, as christopher walken's "continental" would exclaim, most likely after getting punched in the face after spilling champagne and "cawiar" all over his victim's blouse.

i just had my first class of the last year of my university career (for now).

i'd say that deserves some champagne, cawiar, and ground rhinocerous horn.

it was actually a course that i'm not technically..um...IN. i'm waiting for a horrific accident to befall one of the other students. or something. i..must...get..in..this..course! i'm just eating history up like pancakes.

i had to borrow money...a lot of money...from socks in order to make the minimum payment for this semester. of course, i haven't done it yet. my father pulled the cashmoney rug out from under me, leaving me with very little time to come up with an alterna-plan. methinks, no, meKNOWS that i'll have to work part-time this year to supplement my full-time uni career, not to mention my full-time being a whore for beer, pot, and restaurant meals.

well, there does come a time when every person just has to assert their independence, take on responsibilities, yadda yadda yadda. fuck that. i need a patron.

i'm so spinny...thinking about that pill that i have not yet taken...wanting to take MANY of them now!

fred was trying to get me to read 'what colour is your parachute?' but i couldn't stop snickering. my brain was cackling away maniacally, thinking "i should write a book - 'what colour is your underwear?' 'eat right for your underwear type'" etc. etc. see, i have ideas. good, creative ideas. ideas that will make me money once this DEGREE thing is dead.

ahem.