Twiddling toes

Sunday, February 03, 2013

Coffee cake makes me hyperactive. Two slices of it, with orange juice. Concept of having a sit down lunch has gone out of the window. You only live your 2os once and make the most of it. Sex with six men in one night, drinking the amount that can fend for an entire army and smoking is just to mention a few but people who have masters course to attend don't indulge in that on regular basis. Hey, quitting alcohol means you can only be immoral with cakes and chips and shit. I'm doing just that. Also, by sleeping through class and pissing the head of the department of. By far, all the faculty members are sick of my nonsense. So are my classmates. The only reason they keep up with my shit is because I can bake, and when I do, they get a slice or two. Otherwise, I don't see a reason why anyone in my college (or elsewhere) want to be in close proximity with me. Life is mysterious.

To correspond with life's mysteriousness, I am being cheap and putting up a track by SPPP's band (I could tell you what that stands for but then I'd have to kill you). It's a great attempt by an indie outfit and I haven't heard anything like this in a long time. 

I have a dissertation scheduled this month, half an hour live airtime on radio as a fucking producer and an AV to look forward to. Media anthropology isn't half as exciting as I thought it to be. Fuck all this. I'm going to open a brothel and get SPPP (who will take an offence to that) to be the front man at the reception. Yeah.

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