Need a break already...

Finally finished my damn paper for my short story class and e-mailed it to Professor Flesch last night. His response amused me-- "First paper I've ever received in all my years at Brandeis with 'Fuckhead' in the title." Heh. The main character in the stories I was analyzing is a drug addict with no other name than Fuckhead, and you have no idea how weird it was trying to write a scholarly piece with 'Fuckhead' riddled through it. Ah, well. At least it's finished. One less thing on my enormous to do list.

So tonight I will most likely be going to a goth club with Alex. I'm actually not really feeling like it-- I've been going a mile a minute lately with work and activities, so I feel in need of some downtime --but he proposed the idea after hearing that we'd gone to Dead Pool and I should have just said no, but he really wanted to do it and God, I'm becoming such a doormat. Ah, well. It'll probably be fun when I get there, I guess. I'm just tired at the thought. Anyone else want to come and keep us company? It's the event for August 8th you can see on http://xmortis.com/ and I'm sorry it's short notice, but this really wasn't on my radar what with all the other stress I've had lately.

Nunchucks

If by some chance you find yourself thinking "Why, I would just love to randomly get Phoebe a present," lately and just don't know what I would like, I just thought I'd mention how much I love this shirt.

My dad went to Catholic grade school. He was taught by nuns, the old-school kind. And despite having a hot-tempered old-fashioned Italian badass for a father, he still thinks the worst beatings he ever received all came courtesy of the nuns.

I don't think they actually used nunchucks, though.