Spring Break Has Arrived...
Yeah, so it's spring break. Whoopee. I still have so much crap to do. I have a 25 page paper that I have to start working on. And the topic is so incredibly booorrrring: The Great Reforms of Russia During the 1860s. Geez...I almost collapsed from utter boredom just writing the damn title. I've got nothing against Russian history--in fact, I'd love to know more about them little Ruskies--but give me WAR! and BLOOD! and TORTURE! I don't care if Mr. Stolypin happened to be a bit disgruntled with the Minister of Education in 1863! Do you? No, of course you don't. And you also don't give a rat's heiny what my homework assignments are. So on to something more interesting....
I'm driving down Gettysburg on my way to school and my radio starts flipping out. And no this isn't going to be one of those strange tales of alien abduction. Simply put, the stereo in my Jimmy is possessed by an evil, angry, vengeful spirit who absolutely hates my taste in music.
I whack the dashboard several times with my fist until the station clicks back in and Nirvana starts singing something about not having a gun. I smile, tickled at having reaffirmed my position of superiority over the beast. And then it clicks out again.
Dammit!! I pull up to the stop sign and wallop the dashboard several more times until my fist feels like a hammered cheeseburger. I shrug my shoulders at the stupid kid giving me a blank faced stare as he crosses in front of me.
"Fine!" I announce to the testy little demon. I plunge the pedal to the floor. "You wanna play games? I can play games!"
I start singing. Really loud:
COME AS YOU ARE, AS YOU WERE, AS I WANT YOU TO BE! AS A FRIEND, AS A FRIEND, AS AN OLD MEMORY...AHHHH!
And then it happened: The little demon wimped out. Royally. The radio clicked back on! Only instead of Nirvana...it was John Mayer. That's when I realized I hadn't won after all. I HATE John Mayer! And that little pointy-tailed-Jimmy-possessing-imp knew it! (Not that Jimmy)
True story, by the way. And I have the shiny fist-sized clean spot on my dashboard to prove it.
I'm driving down Gettysburg on my way to school and my radio starts flipping out. And no this isn't going to be one of those strange tales of alien abduction. Simply put, the stereo in my Jimmy is possessed by an evil, angry, vengeful spirit who absolutely hates my taste in music.
I whack the dashboard several times with my fist until the station clicks back in and Nirvana starts singing something about not having a gun. I smile, tickled at having reaffirmed my position of superiority over the beast. And then it clicks out again.
Dammit!! I pull up to the stop sign and wallop the dashboard several more times until my fist feels like a hammered cheeseburger. I shrug my shoulders at the stupid kid giving me a blank faced stare as he crosses in front of me.
"Fine!" I announce to the testy little demon. I plunge the pedal to the floor. "You wanna play games? I can play games!"
I start singing. Really loud:
COME AS YOU ARE, AS YOU WERE, AS I WANT YOU TO BE! AS A FRIEND, AS A FRIEND, AS AN OLD MEMORY...AHHHH!
And then it happened: The little demon wimped out. Royally. The radio clicked back on! Only instead of Nirvana...it was John Mayer. That's when I realized I hadn't won after all. I HATE John Mayer! And that little pointy-tailed-Jimmy-possessing-imp knew it! (Not that Jimmy)
True story, by the way. And I have the shiny fist-sized clean spot on my dashboard to prove it.
posted by Grant-Will-Rant at
9:53 PM
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