Several months ago I helped two of my friends hang up a flag and some posters in their apartment.  They had nothing quite strong enough to prevent their wall decore from falling, so they asked if I could swing by with something.  The best suggestion from my dad was one of those magnetic tack hammers (are they all magnetic?), so I brought it over in a back pack with several metal tacks. 

Alright, so everything was nailed in properly and all has remained on the wall since the day I payed my visit with the hammer.  However, for several months I forgot that the hammer was still in my pack o' back.  I only use the main part of the bag for my books and never really bother with the smaller ones, which just so happened to still house the tool. 

Fast forward to last week.  I was in my computer class, in which I am taught valuable lessons such as determining the side of the mouse that has the "left" clicking option, and which has the "right."  We're told to save all the information (that we actually are able to) onto the preferable flash card.  However, within the first couple weeks I managed to lose my card.  I'd like to make up an ellaborate story about how it was stolen from me, but it's a FLASH CARD, who cares?  Anyways, when I first noticed that I didn't have it, I decided to humor myself by checking every last compartment in my back pack, but nothing was found.  As I opened up one of the smaller pockets, said tack hammer fell out onto the rough, tacky, carpeted floor (notice how the four letters "t-a-c-k" have been used while applied to different parts of the sentence).  As I was picking up the hammer I noticed that two girls to the left of me were shifting there eyes back and forth from my eyes and my hand which held the wooden handle.  Together, both of their eyes fixed on me and they leaned their heads slightly away from me as if they felt threatened.  I tried slightly to persuade them against the obvious ideas they had in mind as to my intentions but I didn't really care.

Now, publicly, I'm not a very outgoing person (understatement), and some have said that I am quiet.  Also common, many have referred to me as a "stoner" because I look tired and have longer hair, although those are the same people that have never actually seen someone high outside completely horrendous movies along the same line as "Harold and Kumar."   However, not until that day has anyone thought I was a crazed lunatic who had had enough with the tedious labs in Microsoft Word and wanted to lash out violently on society... with a 3-inch tack hammer.

Every once in a while, I will admit that I've been had, foiled, tricked.  Today is one of those days.

In my psychology class, I was told I could attend a Martin Luther King guest speaking for a few extra credit points.  I thought it would be in my best interest to check it despite the credit I'd receive.  Don't get me wrong though, I did not want to go because I feel guilty or something about the past, (I was not alive during slavery, and my ancestors were being oppressed in Ireland at that time, so they had no slaves) but I wanted to learn some more useful information about martin luther the king.  Ha, like it'd be that easy.

I get in there and sit by myself in the back trying to ignore the fact that I am in a room full of girls with about 6 guys.  At first I knew no one, but eventually my friend Yuki walks in, so at least I wasn't by myself... it would help if she was a dude though, but she happens to be a girl (Yuki, why can't you just be a guy when I need you to be? Is that too much to ask??)

After the speaker was introduced, (twice, which was completely unnecessary) she came on.  She was a short woman from Africa who I hoped had an accent, and fortunately did.  One of the first points she made was to recognize Martin Luther King jr. and honor his legacy... for about 7 seconds.  Quickly after, she started talking about the hardships placed on women throughout the world, especially in Africa.  She was bringing up some statistics and using words such as "we" whenever referring to would should be done in the future.  Yes, women's rights are great and all and should be recognized, but I was schmucked into going.  I wanted to learn interesting facts about Martin Luther the fuckin King jr., but I was bombarded with female issues and made to feel guilty.  I have no control over these issues, and I'm not the male recruite the female population needs the support of... I hate to admit it, but I'm not very convincing.

So Elmhurst College: The next time you try to bamboozle me into one of your traps, I'll be ready.  This is my house, and I have to defend it.

love,

Kevin McCallister

Is it wrong that whenever trick-or-treaters come up to the porch, I want to punch them in the face?  Just the sound of their high-pitched voices and look of expectation on their masks pushes me to the point where I almost want to fight them, or give them empty candy wrappers.  Also, when they cut across lawns, I feel the desire to throw water balloons at them even though I did this as a child.  And the thing that gets me more than anything are those damn doorbell multi-ringers.  You know what, it is a privilege for them to get candy that I want, it's not like I should have to hurry to get to the door as they repeatedly bang on the door and press the bell button.  My ultimate plan is to scare them by saying that the Hershey's Chocolate factory is run by the same company that makes hundreds of infommercials, and that they will no longer be able to watch Dora the Explorer, but videos for the Gazelle Freetyle and Bowflex 24/7.  I will also have to tell them that those products are evil, since I wouldn't want them exercising a lot, and then beating my ass for lying because I wanted a few extra peanut butter cups.

The physician that I annually go to is someone who can be physically described as any adjective that pertains to being over-weight (ie. fat, fatass, lard, obese, mammoth, Rosanne).  Every time I go in for an appointment, he just seems to get bigger and bigger, which makes me wonder how he is qualified to give people advice on their bodies.  He would be a hypocrite to criticize someone when he looks like he eats whole turkeys for midnight snacks.  However, I've come up with a plan to get him off his ass and into the gym.  Within the next year, I will dedicate my time and money towards becoming morbidly obese.  This way, when I go in for my next appointment, my doctor will say I need to start dieting and exercising more.  Upon his statement, I will jump up and yell something along the lines of "I only follow by example," or "I'm not listening to a hypocritical bastard like you!" ... Either way, we'll start a friendship filled with exercise and dress montages with "Walking On Sunshine" playing in the background.  By the time we reach our goals, I will ease back into a normal lifestyle.  My doctor however, will not get off that light.  I will still shower him with insults and make fun of the way he looks (and encourage others to do so) until he finally becomes anorexic or bulemic, and then he'll be somebody else's problem.  Fuck that guy.

Visa had the slogan (and still may, I'm not sure) "Visa, it's everywhere you wanna be" for many years.  I've seen people at football games holding up signs with the advertisment on them to get on TV, but I just do not get it.  How can a credit card be a place?  It is a thing- a thing that you scan to buy stuff.  It's not like you can take a trip to your credit card.  For example, "Hey Cornelius, where do you plan to vacation this summer?" "Oh, I think I'm going to go camping- I'll probably set up a tent on my authorization signature." Fuck that, that is ridiculous.  Besides Jellystone Park, that would be the lamest camping trip ever.  Cayn't you reeeead?!? (I'm sorry, that last part was an inside joke.  Believe me, it's funny to those that know)

To make a long story short, Visa is not every where I want to be, because it is just a credit card... and it's not McDonalds.

So I'm leaving the parking lot after attending church, and the path I take is through a rather narrow alley.  As I come up on this outlet, I see that there is a barricade on the right side next to the fence making it an even tighter squeeze.  However, I am confident that I can get through because I have the driving record of a fucking... person that usually has a good driving record.  Right before I begin to pass through, a guy in his early 30s runs up to the other side of the fence and looks like he's going to climb over it.  For all I know he was hopping the fence to go play on the permalife rubber soft surface at the nearby park.  I proceed to ignore the guy and successfully make it through the seemingly impossible gap, but as I do so, some lady that was getting into her car next to the supposed childhood deprived fence-hopper yells, "He was trying to help you!"  Now, how the hell was I supposed to know this?  The guy just ran up without looking at me and did not seem to have any intention of moving the barricade.  I would have stopped and said something, but I didn't realize what the women said until I was already two blocks down the road.  I originally thought she said "peace be with you," since I was coming from church, but I did not want to respond because based off of the looks of her, I wished nothing more than floggings by way of string cheese on her.

Unfortunately, now I have two more people in this world thinking that I take other people's assistance for granted.  In order to redeem myself, I should probably go out and right this wrong.  Maybe I'll drop my books on purpose and let someone else come and pick them up.  I am more than willing to receive help... so much so that I want to have people help me with things to the point where I don't even do anything anymore.  People will start dressing me, feeding me and doing my homework.  That'll show those two...