February, 2005

02/26/05
10:38 PM: Shaun of the Dead needs subtitles. I can't understand English.
1:56 AM: Matt and Andy here-with most excellent news.
Practice went very well today, despite no drums and bass. It was Lunchbox (Kevin) and us, and we wrote a totally sweet song. If we get a chance, we'll post the lyrics, but for now, you'll just have to trust us. We might even do a temporary recording of the first few minutes of it tomorrow. No name yet.
Go check out our cartoons in the forum.
Song: Money by Pink Floyd

02/24/05
Band practice tomorrow.
You know where.
See you in the battlefield.
Song: Over the Hills and Far Away by Led Zeppelin

02/23/05
10:33 PM: I have came to a stunning conclusion. Africa does not exsist.
Now, try not to be alarmed. It all came to me today in math, when I realized the word "africa" closely resembles "afirad", the slavic word for "imaginary". Then, it all made sense. The whole "feed the starving african children" funds are all just massive pyramid schemes. There is no Africa. Some critics to my theory say, "well, there is an Africa!", to which I respond "Prove it". No one has ever been there, so no one knows if it exists or not.
Which brings me to my next big conspiracy: black people. They're really white people who intentionally spent way too long in a tanning bed, just to take advantage of the government's aid programs to all non-whites. Try me.
I've decided that the quality of day I will have is determined by the hilarity of the Get Fuzzy comic of the day on my Get Fuzzy Day-by-Day Calender. Take today, for example. Today's cartoon was a classic, and the day turned out excellent, besides the homework load (that I have so skillfully learned to evade until the wee hours of the morning). The greatest part about today was Kevin and my improvising conspiracy theories on the spot during lunch. I came up with that whole africa one in 10 seconds. I was on fire.
If none of this post made any sense to you, then I accomplished my objective.
Song: My United States of Whatever

02/22/05
10:10 PM: Back from Junior Olympics. Lots of stories to tell. Stalkers, racist jokes from hell, National Potentially-Hot Girls Convention, the psycho drug testing people and Dylan's "evasive strategy", the National Nun Convention, Lady Luck betraying team NCF...etc.etc. Maybe I'll go into a few later. For now, it's recap time.
Friday: Left for Arlington TX (small area between Dallas and Fort Worth) late morning on United. Got to the venue in time to see Andras Horyani lose in the gold medal bout. He was robbed; the directing was terrible. Saw the awards ceremony and left. That night, we all went to the Steak 'n Shake (a chain only in the Mideast, basicly delicious steak burgers and milkshakes....mmm) and had dinner. It was pretty funny having two people order a table for 16, none others present. At a fast-food restarant. That night, I found my roomie Dylan Walrond, and our room, which for some reason was in a different hotel than everyone else, but right next door, and slept for the 9 AM (Texas time) close of check-in for the next day.
Saturday: Junior (Under 20) Men's Epee (212 competitors, NCF had myself, Dylan Walrond, Jimmy Moody, Nick Chinman, Theron Haan). Went 3-3 in pools, got a bye into the round of 128, won against Sam Gay 15-14 with a ballsy fleche at 14-14 to get into top 64, and lost to Dwight Smith 15-10 (but had a freakin' sweet back-flick which really pissed him off). I finished 58th. It was really a tough day for everyone. Jimmy Moody and Nick Chinman were both fighting for spots on the Junior National Men's Epee team along with several other fencers from around the country. Nick Chinman, who locked a position on the three other national teams he was able to fence in (Cadet Epee, Cadet Foil, Junior Foil), needed to make top 4 in Junior Men's Epee to become the first fencer ever to be on four US national teams at one time. Due to Jimmy Moody losing 15-14 against Clayton Kenny to get into top 16, Jimmy was eliminated from the running for the position on the national team. Later that night he drank away his sorrows with a friend who couldn't achieve his goal of making the team either (Christian Rivera); supposedly it was messy. Back to the story. Nick ends up winning the event, with the best fencing bout I have ever seen. In the gold medal bout, Nick was down two touches pretty much the whole time. The score was 14-12, and Nick was done with Stan Vaksman. He ended it with a back-flick, a toe-flick, and another back-flick at 14-14 and won. It was freaking outrageous. The greatest bout I have ever seen. So then, needless to say, Nick made all four teams and became the greatest under-20 fencer of all time. And to think, he's only 16 (...maybe 17, come to think of it). We will just have to wait to see what other feats this man accomplishes.
So after that mess of an event, Nick realizes he has a stalker, and myself and Nick try to track down the identity of the very very creepy looking chick. Dylan and I develop a code to warn Nick when the stalker is approaching, by either shouting "Sweet Jesus!" or "By the beard of Zeus!". She ends up talking to him and almost asks straight up if she can sleep with him. I believe it went something like, "Man, I'm so angry, I don't have a place to sleep. Can I crash at your place?" Man that chick is creepy. While Jimmy drunk away his sorrows with Christian and Nick, it was just myself, Dylan, Theron, Emily, and Julia. We got crappy Chinese delivery and watched Rat Race on TBS. I was the only one who had seen it before. I told them all they were deprived. Then, everyone but Dylan and I left and we stayed up all night watching Chris Rock on HBO, because we didn't have an event the next day.
Sunday: Really uneventful. We lug our sorry asses out of bed and pack up our stuff...we move to the hotel that everyone else is at. I guess our coaches e-mailed reservations for three rooms, and reserved three rooms by mail...and the hotel people thought they were just reiterating the original reservations, not doubling it. So the hotel got us rooms at a hotel next door. Anyway, we have a pretty good breakfast, move our stuff to our new room, and then hang at the venue all day. There was cadet women's epee (with Julia Wynne) and cadet men's foil (with Nick). We pretty much spent the day helping Nick evade his stalker (thanks to Aly Rush, who flew in that day, we learned her name was Micky or something), and watched Julia and Nick fence. Nick won the cadet men's foil, Julia got a respectible 51st of 140. When you make top 8, they give you a "finalist slip", which is a paper you fill out with your coaches name(s), years you've been fencing, club, etc. so they can read it while you recieve your medal. When Nick won, for the "Best Results" section, Nick put "Beating Dylan 15-14 in that one Colorado Cup" (Colorado Cup = local, pointless tournament). When Nick went up to recieve his medal, they started reading his finalist slip over the PA. When they got to the "best results" section, there was a really long pause, and then "Please give a round of applause to our first place finisher, Nick Chinman!". They completly blew what he wrote off. Damn.
I think that night we ended up trying to go to a Traildust, but they were closed, so we were forced to go to Steak 'n Shake again. We had Aly call Nick's stalker with her number restricted, and tell her that Aly was Nick's girlfriend, and that she better lay off. Of course, without giving the stalker her name. It was so creepy. According to Aly, when Aly bitched the stalker out, the stalker said "you sound a lot like Aly Rush", and hung up. I just imagened her face slowly rise up from under a window outside, watching our every move. Ughhhh what a creep. Then we got Dylan to do his excellent gay Puerto Rican accent over the phone and tell the stalker that Nick was his man, and no broad is gunna take Nick away from him. Freakin' hi-larious.
Monday: Cadet Men's Epee. Close of check-in: 8 AM (Texas time. I'm so sick of being screwed every time with the early events). I had the easiest pool of all time, not a single tough bout in it. Unfortunatly, after getting 2 wins with only a touch against on each, I fenced like an idiot and dropped a bout 5-4. Then, a coach of an old rival sold me out to some other coach to their kid, and I got worried and changed my whole game, but still lost 5-4. I won the rest, went 4-2 (remember, in the easiest pool I could have asked for) with really really good indicators. Came out 49th out of pools. Dylan almost went undefeated, went 5-1 in pools; his only loss was 5-4. Nick went 6-0 with an indicator of 22. Then, all hell broke loose.
All three of us got into the same bracket to get into top 8. Considering there are 8 ways to get in to the top 8, that's 8 brackets. That means the chances of all three of us in the same one is 8 to the 3rd, or 1 in 512. Unlucky, eh? After looking closer, Dylan and I had to fence to get into top 32 (for those not familiar with the fencing world, only top 32 get national points. so having to fence each other to get into the top 32 meant one of us wasn't gunna get points). The chances of us having to fencing each other to get into top 32 is 32 squared, or 1 in 1024. Lady Luck was not with us that day. Below is a table showing 1/8th of the total event. That is, the over-all winner of that table made top 8.

Dylan complained because he paid all that money just to fence people he would fence in a Colorado Cup. He lost to Stockdale in Juniors (he's from Air Force) and myself in Cadets. I don't blame him at all for being pissed. But to think if either him or myself had just won one of the bouts that we lost 5-4 in, and we would never have had this happen. As Nick told me, we were too tense. We need to "chilax". Ugh. Looking at the chances of us all being in the same route to 8's pisses me off.
Right, so one more thing. Results: Nick 3rd, I got 15th, and Dylan got about 35th-ish out of 240-something (the final results are not posted yet).
8:42 PM: Call me crazy, but I am so outrageously sick of trends. Namely: iPods and those damn little bracelets.
Number 1: iPods. Everyone who knows me knows my disgust towards all things Apple. Especially iPods. The way I see it is, iPods are completly incompatable with PCs. (I don't care what anyone says, I've seen it all and all it does is screw up your computer and plug everywhere for you to buy Apple crap). Due to the fact that iPods don't work with PCs, and Macs don't work period, iPods are completly useless.
And even if you can speak "user-friendly", (aka can deal with a computer that can't perform simple operations and crashes frequently), they still are outrageously over-priced, and there are much better alternatives out there. My recommendation for PC users: ZenTouch. Beats the iPod hands down. Then again, a freakin' cassette beats an iPod. My logic is flawless.
Second rant: Those damn rubber bracelets given to benefactors of charities. At first, it was fine. People wanted to show off their charitabiliy to a cancer research fund by wearing this bright yellow band with a catchy slogan "Live Strong" on it. I have no problem with that. But then, it became a trend. People began to donate to the charities just to follow this stupid trend. A person could no longer be impressed with another person's kindness to a non-profit organization without thinking "Wow, I bet that scumbag 'donated' three bucks to a charity that they don't even care about, just for an armband so people like me would think that they really cared about their fellow man, even though the donation wasn't an act of good will at all, it was just a lie". Or at least, thats how I feel. And then the rip-offs came. Okay, so the suicide hotline people and the tsunami relief people saw the success of the idea, and changed the color and slogan with their own. I, again, have no problem with that. But the knock-offs that are for "girl power", "silent protest" (of G.W. Bush), and random summer camps really piss me off. They turned this symbol of charity into a stupid, mindless trend, just to cash out on someone else's idea WHICH WAS FOR A NON-PROFIT CANCER RESEARCH FUND. So very, very low.
Song: I Keed by Triumph the Insult Comic Dog

02/15/05
9:56 PM: TinFoilAvenger: we need like 5 songs by the end of march
TinFoilAvenger: thats our goal
TinFoilAvenger: but they need to be quality
Okay band, you heard the man. Here's what needs to happen.
Matt: We need to focus at practices and really work on writing lyrics that matches the songs and/or matching music to poetry. No more screwing around. And please, please don't leave me with all the song-writing.
Kevin: Ditto above. You need to do a lot though. #1 learn the rhythms to the songs, #2 add depth/rhythm/uniqueness to the shredding, #3 tolerate the music-making process. If that means we need you to comp for an hour on four boring chords, please do. You'll thank us when the song's lyrics are perfect and it goes off the charts.
Vieth: Learn to be a bass musician. That's different from being able to play bass. I don't know how to write music or anything for a rock bass, and so it is your job to be there and get your part in. As a bass musician, ya gotta be able to make your parts. It's not too hard, but it might take time at first. Study up!
Jordan: You're clean...for now. Only because you've only been at one practice so far.
Myself: I've pretty much got the same things as Kevin to work on.
I know I don't wanna have to work a 9 to 5 job in cubicles. It's this or bust. Let's get a good start.
Oh yea, a few more things. No practice friday, I'm in a plane to Texas. Vieth: Nick Chinman wants Total War: Rome back...and...oh yea, people who liked the quiz, it can be found in the february archives. a link is above.
Song: Double Team by Tenatious D

02/13/05
10:31 PM:

Andrew Seroff presents A Pseudonym Production
Make Your Own Horror Movie Plot Quiz!

I really enjoyed making that. Write to your congressmen, make Hollywood entertain us, please. I've tested it against The Ring, Signs, The Shinning, Hide and Seek, and The Forgotten. If you think I can improve on this quiz, e-mail me with any suggestions/movies that dont work on it/hatemail, and I'll throw them away. I promise.
Song: I'm So Wonley from Team America: World Police Soundtrack

02/11/05
10:27 PM: After a outrageously long week, the weekend finally was apon us.
We (Me, Matt, Vieth, Evan, Kevin, and featuring...Sarah) went to Matt's house and ate his pizza, drank his soda, made a mess of his basement, and uttered every profanity in the book.
It started with some Family Guy, then some Halo 2 (until I just couldn't take the cheapness that was occuring) which then we moved on to ping-pong and this really wierd Risk-esque game that we got bored with almost instantaniously. It had WAY to many rules, and when Vieth just gave all of Russia to Evan, the game was over. Someone had to do it. Then, Matt and I created the greatest game of all time (except for maybe Baseketball), Animal Ping-Pong. A variation off of animal tennis, it is basicly normal ping-pong, but the ball isn't dead until it stops rolling, and it is a full contact game. I had to leave the game early, at 11-10 score, but it was a bloody war zone down there. Both Vieth and Matt had bloody noses from either slide-tackles, paddles to the nose, or a combination of the two. But I'll tell you, it was intense.
No band practice (clearly).
Song: Friggin' in the Riggin by Sex Pistols

02/10/05
4:37 PM:

You scored as Pissed at the World Cat. And here we have the next serial killer. Try having some cotton candy, it'll make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, Psycho. Pissed at the World Cat 83% Couch Potato Cat 67% Love Machine Cat 58% Ninja Cat 58% Drunk Cat 50% Derranged Cat 33% Nerd Cat 33% Which Absurd Cat are you? created with QuizFarm.com

Song: Carry On Wayward Son by Kansas

3:27 PM: So I guess most people don't see where I'm coming from on this subject. We'll it's as simple as this:
a) If you think this guy is unjustfully being punished, then you do not understand the heirarchy of jazz band.
b) If you think I should be the bigger man and stop, let him take the alpha position, let him screw over my next year by moving up on the totem pole ahead of me, you do not understand the heirachy of jazz band.
c) If you think this guy has done nothing wrong, and this is pointless squabbeling that in the end will ruin me and not him, you havent met mason. and you dont understand the heirarchy of jazz band.
So I guess I have a few more things to say: He does know he was being a total asshole, I talked to him and he said he's trying to change. I said I respect him as a musician but ever since the beginning of the year when he was a complete condesending egotistical asshole, I did not respect him as a person. We agreed to truce and start again, him being less of a dick and me dropping my gruge against him.
Oh, but I still hate him. But I guess I'll lay off for now, and even the score later. Because have no doubt, the score will be evened.

I never let anything go.
Song: Amanda by Boston

02/09/05
10:30 PM: Heres my story of my crusades against Mason Ruben, the biggest freshman idiot in the world. as i go along, i will keep score, with positive numbers representing mason needs to pay, and negitive meaning I need to pay.

it all started at the beginning of this year in jazz band (0). Mostly, the band was all the guys from last year's level 1 jazz band, except for mark (the drummer), this super cool freshman, and this total cuntbag freshman (mason). so he's pretty good at saxophone, but no better than I. Anyway, he kept pulling this "im better than you" crap, saying how he belongs in the top jazz band, and all of us suck (3). Then one day, the woodwinds split up to work on our parts in sectionals, and mason started pulling this "im better than you" crap again, so i f**king beat him down. like not physiclly (although i should of), but pretty much i called him out, told him he was a f**king pompous freshman with no skills, sit down you dirty bitch no one wants to hear it from you (0). of course, this angered my collegue alex eason, who told me to not be so confrontational (the expected pacifist liberal response)...from then on he minded senority and his low position on the totem pole. Until Mardi Gras. Me and Matt had made all our friends go away by throwing crap loads of snowballs at them, so we were looking for a new target. then i remember my deep loathing for mason, so i suggested we run by him and pelt him with some real sloppy wet snowballs. Matt and I both hit him with one each (-2). Then, after our massive sugar highs went down, we were just chilling outside the band room where there's that balcony of the second story overlooking the benches...when mason walked by and pelted me with a snowball. i was like meh, i deserved that (-1). Then he came around again with another. I was like well i do deserve that one too, but i do have senority, so ill just get him back next time...whatever (0). Then, the f**king bastard took another one (clearly i knew nothing of this) and went to the balcony and dropped one right on my head. ill keep with the 1 snowball=1 point ratio, so the score is (1), but it felt like (200), due to the lack of respect for senority and the fact that he already got even. he basicly asked for me to kick his ass. Anyway, after he dropped it, i chased him down, but the fatty had too much of a lead starting off, so he got away.

so now im f**king steaming, and me and matt are plotting to get sweet revenge. we are close friends with someone who has access to all the student-pirated master keys of the whole school, so we were getting imaginative:
a) pack his locker with snow, and place a dog turd right in the middle
B) draw little wangs all over the inside of his locker and its contents
c) human feces/road kill
d) semen. dont ask, this was a very very bad idea.
so anyway, we could always deny it because hell, how could us innocent children ever break into a locker? i'd never.

so then at lunch today, we were flinging around highlighters at each other, getting neon pink and orange all over each other/sean/andy/the walls/lauren/zoe, when we got a great idea. we'd draw little dongs on his locker, and a message warning him of our wrath which is coming. so we do it (10), and later find him at his locker. we asked him sarcasticly if he liked our artwork. he called us cuntbags or something. then we said "more is coming, you f**king douche" and sprayed him with highlighter jizz (20).
That was good times. Then, 10 minutes til schools out, one of the office bitches (ya know the guys who basicly are runners for the office to deliver crap and stuff) came and asked for me to my teacher. he took me to the ass. (you like my abbreviation? i do.) principal's office. the scary thing was, i knew i deserved to be in trouble, but i was wondering what for. you know it was a successful lunch period when there are too many things you could be in trouble for that you can't work on getting your story straight. So as you all have figured out, Mason ratted me out on the "artwork" (-50) (soooo not cool). it was funny though, cause at one point he was like "where were the lockers you wrote on?" and i had to guess which one they caught me on. i guessed the second floor locker, the one with the message.
also, now that i have learned the due process of being punished here at BHS, i can lend some advice.

A) Sweet and innocent. Honestly, the office is so chaotic, you could pretty much play dumb and they'll doubt themselves unless theyre 100% sure it was you. pretend to be really scared and unexperienced at being in trouble. once you find out what they have you in for, ask to use the bathroom and studder and shake your way out of the room so you can compose yourself and get your story straight.

B) Rebellious. ("you cant make me talk"). answer their questions in ways that put the question back on them.
them: so, were you drawing on any lockers today?
you have a few options
1) what's it to ya? (not a great response, but itll do)
2) clearly you know the answer to that question. (this wont give them the verbal consensus they need, so they'll press you harder. stand firm)
3) read me my rights. that'll really piss 'em off.

C) Suck-up (aka the brown nose). Lines like,
1) I understand the consequences of my actions, and have learned from them.
2) This really made me understand who I am...
...etc, etc. and other bullshit like that.

good luck.

now do you understand my deep loathing of Mason Lacy, the biggest freshman idiot to walk the face of the planet?

w00t that rant was like an hour out of my homework. excellent.
Song: She Fucking Hates Me by Puddle of Mudd

NOTE: THIS NEVER HAPPENED. EVER. REALLY.

02/06/05
10:18 PM: I guess I have something against British people.
Just kidding. But I do have a little problem about the AMERICAN national football (AMERICAN game) championship game (held in AMERICA)'s half-time show having some worn-out old British has-been lip sync to some horribly over-rated songs.
Speaking of British jackasses: Bono. He paid TIME magazine three times to profile him about how he's such a humanitarian and a music revolutionary. Point A: Instead of bribing TIME magazine to profile your great charities to human kind, spend the damn money on poor people, or AIDS research. Whatever you damn rich hippies who play off peoples emotions to earn yourself money do. Point B: Your music sucks. Rot in hell.
Sorry about that side rant there. Had to get that off my chest.
Anyway, watched the Super Bowl (purely for procrastination purposes)...I felt very conflicted because I had money on the Patriots (because of course they're gunna win), but since I hate the Patriots with every bone in my body, I was rooting for the Eagles. Lucky for me, the Patriots did win, but didn't beat the spread, so I lost money and the Eagles lost. LAME!
Now I'm blogging (purely for procrastination purposes). Anyone see the Pilot episode of American Dad! on FOX after the Simpsons after the Super Bowl? Cause I did. And it looks awesome. It feels very Faimly Guyish due to being made by the same genius (Seth MacFarlane), but it still looks good. The goldfish with the German accent is the shit.
Song: Eye of the Tiger by Survivor

02/05/05
1:08 AM: Today...I mean, yesterday, was possibly the most wild day at Boulder High School. Well, it started out normally, with jazz band, then an Aiken world history unit test. After that, however, all hell broke loose. A three hour game of Snow Splooge, a game Matt and I invented on the spot, followed by some interesting pottery creations that got us kicked out of the pottery room. And at one point, Joey got a Nalgene water bottle full of squid (thats right, squid) poured on his head. Later, I saw Dr. Cabrera with yellow rubber gloves on picking up bits of squid carnage and guts.
Then we had band practice. If you wanna call it that. For the most part, productivity was very low, even though we had both guitarists, vocals, and Jordan on drums (by the way, most likely a keeper). Several failed attempts by Evan and Vieth at linking Xboxs together, a few Aqua Teen Hunger Force, Family Guy, and South Park episodes later, we were enguaged in a massive game of poker, which resulted in Kevin losing his shirt, borrowing chips from my little brother, and losing his shirt again.
Song: You Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC

02/03/05
8:51 PM: PRACTICE TOMORROW. So we've got Matt on vocals, Kevin on guitar, me on guitar and maybe drums, Jordan on drums and/or bass, Andy on bass, and Evan with the xbox. hah.
We're gunna be more busy than an one-legged man at an ass-kicking contest.
That's one of my new favorite similes; also this one: "In the valley of the blind man, the one-eyed man is king". I know, I know, it's deep.
Song: Dream On by Aerosmith

02/02/05
3:56 AM: Skip was sitting in an airplane when another guy took the seat beside him.
The new guy was an absolute wreck, pale, hands shaking, biting his nails and moaning in fear.
"Hey, pal, what's the matter?" Skip asked.
"Oh man... I've been transferred to Detroit" the other guy answered, "there's crazy people in Detroit and they have shootings, gangs, race riots, drugs, a high murder rate . . . "
"Hold on," Skip interrupted, "I've lived in Detroit all my life, and it is not as bad as the media says.
Find a nice home, go to work, mind your own business, enroll your kids in a good school and it's as safe as anywhere in the world."
The other passenger relaxed and stopped shaking for a moment and said, "Oh, thank you. I have been worried to death, but if you live there and say it's OK, I'll take your word for it. What do you do for a living?"
"Me?" said Skip, "I'm a tail gunner on a bread truck."
Song: What Would Brian Boitano Do? Part 2 by DVDA

02/01/05
9:23 PM: So I've got some band news for ya'll.
First things first, we have found someone who is a self-taught drummer and bassist who would be interested in playing with us. His name is Jordan the Freshman. A few situations can occur at this Friday's pracitce. #1: If he's any good at drumming, and has interest and time available, then he is in, no question. #2: If he is good at both, then not only is he our drummer, but he'll be able to help Vieth with playing bass. #3: If he's good at bass, but not a good enough drummer, then I dunno what we're gunna do. It would be nice to have an experienced bassist, but also Vieth our friend, and we'd hate to strip him of his roll in the band. Yea, Situation #3 kinda sucks for everyone. And lastly, #4 is he's no good at either bass or drums. In that case...
Also, we're trying to get a mixer that will work for what we want it to do. Me and Kevin have come to the consensus that we want a mixer that can record 1 line at a time, but can also mix for live performances to a speaker system. Of course, these are pretty pricey...I'll keep you updated as we search for A) the perfect mixer; and B) the money to get it.
That's all. Go to the forum.
Song: Butterflies and Hurricanes by Muse (Absolution)
12:01 AM: Man what a freakin' day. May I rant?
Everything was going swimmingly until about 7th period today when my Biology teacher (who's most definatly on crack, now i just gotta get a picture of her doing it so i can blackmail her for A's) decided that tomorrow there is going to be a unit test. Thats three massive chapters into one test. No one was prepared, not even the nerds. And no one saw it coming, either, because we've only gotten to the first half of the first chapter of this unit. That's right, Ms. Crack Smoker is testing us on the whole unit, 5/6ths of which she never went over in class. "This is an advanced class, you should learn it on your own", she said. To which I responded, "You're a teacher, you should teach us the material that you're going to test us on! If we wanted to learn by just reading a textbook, we wouldn't need your sorry ass of a teacher to grade us on it. We could do it at home, you dirty bitch!". Of course, I didn't say most of that. But thats what I thought.
Then I had my sax lesson (S-A-X), where my teacher told me that we were going to have a student recital in late February, which is fine. Little did I know that I would be writing my own piece. Wait, no, sorry, not just my piece. My whole ensemble's music. That's right. I gotta compose, arrange, write, and distribute my own piece, which will then be performed in front of...a crap load of people. Man, excellent.
*Sigh* off to study for my pop-unit exam. Woe is me.
Song: White Room by Cream

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