Or, Why I Rule...

This semester I am taking three classes. Each class meets three days a week. For most people, that is a hassle-less semester. For me, its a pain in the ass.

Why, I ask, should I have to drag my ass out of bed every morning? I like bed. Beds are possibly the most comfortable things that mankind has ever invented. They've got some give to them, so you aren't lying on something hard -- but not too much give; they've got sheets and make you all warm and toasty -- even when you are naked and the window is drafty; and you get pillows. In fact, in bed, you don't actually have to exert the energy to support ANY part of your body against the pull of gravity -- none of it. Even in a chair you have to deal with keeping your head in an upright position, but in bed its all covered for you.

If I could live exclusively in my bed and just have people bring me things, I can't imagine that I wouldn't be happy. It would be like one of those Roman movies where the emperor or rich dude just summons the grape chick and the fan girl. Yeah, thats the life. Except for me, it would be the beer chick and the stripper, but hey, you gotta respect the Roman style, right?

Anyway, the whole point of this post was going to be to tell the world that I'm running into my 3rd week of completely blowing off my Literature class. I guess the theory behind it is: "This class sucks and I'm not going to it." A classic theory, but one that is oh-so-often overlooked. A shame.

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I swear to god that clicking on my links is better than drugs. And be sure to remember to ask Brian for some advice, because you know you want your worthless life to be improved with some CollegeBlows wisdom.

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