Day 87
NOTE: I am writing this blog while listening to a friend pound out some Beethoven on a baby grand in a youtube video. And, I hate Classical music. It makes me angry. We'll see how this turns out. At least I can tell him I listened to it. It actually is making me type as fast as Doogie Howser. Hmm...
Today was the day that I began my search for Eleanor Roosevelt. I posted this on a facebook status update and no one cared. Fuck my friends. I could get new ones there are thousands of lonely people on facebook trying to make up for the fact that they didn't have friends in high school by outscoring the friends they didn't have in sheer number of "friends". But, all of that is beside the point, today was all about me and Eleanor. I found her in a library.
I searched the library catalogue and jotted down call numbers before I left home. Usually I use the skanky search computers at the library to do such things but I wasn't feeling all that dirty, besides this was a serious venture. I am obsessed with Mrs. Roosevelt and after a day and a half of stalking her it was time to find the one book that my school's library had of hers that wasn't missing or withdrawn. I was to find "Autobiography."
In order to do so I had to go to the more science-y library on campus. Now, I've been to dozens of libraries (it's a fetish me and many perverts have) but this library certainly sucked the most (and not in a meet me in the bathroom stall on the third floor kind of way). Upon entering you do not see books you see giant frosted glass stalactites that are supposed to pass for art/sculpture but really just look like icicles that could drop at any moment and impale a minimum of 3 people each. An event that I sort of wished would happen, not to me of course. Anyway, the second thing you notice is that you cannot see any books. The third thing you notice is that there is roughly as many people as comprises my entire hometown sitting on uncomfortable furniture with their laptops and criss cut french fries and it's loud as a football stadium. It's hard to say if you are in a library. After going up a floor and going through a back stairwell I finally found the books and Eleanor in a sea of more furniture and undergrads and got the hell outta that library of madness. Soon, there won't be any books left in libraries. They will just become social lounges full of fried food consumers who have laptops. But, I wonder where all of the masturbators who jerk one out in the stacks will end up.
I know what I will be thankful for come this Thursday: yahoo.ca news. Here's what I learned today from this lovely news source:
5 Signs You Need to Dump Him:
Summary
Tip #1: "He doesn't care how (or even if) you get home after a date.
My favorite tip #5: "He's afraid of the 'g-word'." -I actually didn't know that the g-word was girlfriend. Yeah, I actually read this shit.
Cat Squeezes Inside a Bottle:
Here's the headline: "This determined feline manages to fit through a tiny hole in order to reach the last bits of food." This is accompanied by a photo of a desperately hungry animal who is obviously being tortured for human amusement. Animal torture is a common theme for yahoo.ca news. Which is funny if it's a cat.
Heidi Klum's Post-Baby Body:
The article says that this is the supermodel's body after she had a fourth kid. Jesus, shouldn't we cut her off? How many beautiful people should we have running around making us look bad?
So tonight there was a talent show of sorts going on in my residence. The shitty part of it was that nobody involved was really bad at their talent so I have nothing to report. As my favorite ancient columnist would say, "A good time was had by all." Boring! Although, I must say that I could probably sing "The Rainbow Connection" better than the Singaporean girl. And, a girl sang a REALLY long song about a barefoot woodcutter. And, it was mildly humorous when the older German sang a German pop song in German from the 1980s (how many times can I say German in this sentence). But, it was more sad cause nobody was all that into it, even him. I think I volunteered to organize the next talent show, maybe I could find some truly horrible acts to break up the goodness.
I learned this evening that trying to teach a Basque physicist how to play the game Clue is almost impossible. I don't think he was even writing down the information he was collecting. He said to just play it and he'd catch on. Right. But, he does do a killer Inigo Montoya impression, even though he doesn't really know who that is.
Good news the umbrella I stole the other day hasn't broken yet and is starting to feel like it actually belongs to me.
-Canadian Castaway
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