So if I love Fiona Apple's new album, can I never wear work boots?

Blog Blog BLOG!

15 letters and a petition for the abrogation of my suspension. "It really speaks to your character." Thanks, Pat. No, seriously, the student body speaks out against the administration with a testament to my integrity, commitment to reform and contributions to Skidmore and from this you glean that I'm "A really great guy." A really great guy. huh. A really great guy, I guess I'll chew on that for a while, just to stop me immediately vomiting bile and my disgust for academic bureaucracy all over your institutional oak desk and hideous button-down. Vertical stripes are slimming Pat, but not THAT slimming.

It really didn't help that when I pointed out that suspending me not only won't stop kids from smoking, but it will encourage them to lie in front of the Integrity Board, he agreed and then responded "Sometimes being honest gets you in more trouble, but that speaks highly of your integrity."

S'cuse me while I roll my jaw up off the floor. Honesty should never get you in the most trouble. The most trouble should be for lying. He then pointed out that it speaks to how the school is responding that they didn't dismiss me. Yah. Ok, whatever you say Pat. Dismissal was probably never going to happen. Bah, well that's my diatribe about idiotic, dogmatic and indifferent "reformative policy."


I'd like to thank the thesaurus for telling me that rescindition isn't a word and that abrogate would be exactly what I'm looking for.



And so, without further ado:

A LIST OF THINGS TO DO FOR THE BORED AND DISENFRANCHISED!!

1. Blog.
2. Drink
3. Read and mope and then mope and read
4. Download widgets for your new operating system on your new computer that allow you to control all, see all, know all, and play asteroids.
5. Drink more and violate your probation by doing so. The latter only applies if you are actually on probation.
6. Move to another city and start a new life, thereby cutting all ties with your previous school.
7. (Mutually exclusive with #6) Take a 4 month mind vacation. Buy a new Xbox and play the shit out of all video games. Potentially become so good that you don't need to go back to school because you are winning so many fucking Halo and Perfect Dark tournaments. Fuck yeah. Your fucking name is known all over the web, you are a living legend. Women will sleep with you because of your outstanding hand eye coordination. The downside is, due to the time spent inside becoming a god of video games, you cannot go outside on sunny days, the UV rays are too stong and even a minimal exposure will burn you enough to get sun poisoning. But then you go back to school and finish your degree after the suspension is over.
8. Continue to drink until you have a transcendental experience.
9. Write letters to Sir John Gielgud about the plight of the artist in the 21st century, touching on America's move toward the xenophobic christian right and how that relates to a world artistic community.
10. Recieve an answer to your letters, in which Sir John tells you about some of his personal experience on the set of Elizabeth, specifically how hot Cate Blanchett was and how she used to walk around the set half naked all the time until it was time to put on the corset. He wanted to tax that ass for days, but found it rather difficult when he knocked on her trailer door and, much to his chagrin, Geoffrey Rush opened the door. Blanchett boffing Rush? Apparently the set of Elizabeth was as steamy as the movie itself...Which you don't really remember because you saw it on an airplane.
11. You arrange to meet Gielgud himself. You grab a grilled muffin and a cup of joe from the deli on the corner of Broome and Prince in Soho. While you're walking and talking about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes (Sir John thinks he's totally a flamer too) you wonder to yourself why Gielgud hasn't engaged you in any serious kind of esoteric conversation about art. When you try to engage him about the work of Liz LeCompte, he laughs and steers the conversation to Nick and Jessica and it's it so funny all these celebrity couples. A discussion of the scarcity of good gallery space suddenly turns to Jessica Alba and her sweet ass. A attempted dialogue about how difficult it is to get published, turns into a monologue as Sir John begins to sing Gold Digger. Something is wrong here. Sensing an opportunity, you slyly refer to him as John and not SIR John. There is no reaction. Nothing not even a flicker of acknowledgement. This is not Sir John Gielgud. No man who is knighted ever forgets that he is a Knight! You throw your coffee at the phony Gielgud and he reels back, plastic dripping from his face. The mask melted away, a very confused Chris Klein is doubled over before you. "You're that guy from American Pie, you really suck!" you exclaim.
" I was in the United States of Leland, it was an independent film with Don Cheadle, I'm a legitimate actor." He squeals.
"Oh I know, I saw that one too and I fucking want the 2 hours of my life back. That was awful, like really awful. How can you even pretend to be John Gielgud? What would make you do that?"
"I just- I just wanted someone to like me." Klein whimpers.
"Why would anyone ever like you. You suck."
"I was in This Is Our Youth on the West End."
"You should probably get yourself to a hospital. That's starting to look bad." You say, noticing the growing blisters all over Klein's high cheekbones. You begin to walk away, but he grabs at your wrist pulling you back.
"Wait! I just want to know one thing before you go. How did you know it wasn't Gielgud?"
"Why don't you go ask Ian McKellan...now get away from me." You respond, and turn away.
"Wait," Klein stammers, grabbing again at your arm "One more thing, just one more. How was I in We Were Soldiers? You know, with Mel Gibson?"
Catching a glint of metal out of the corner of your eye, you grab a rusty pipe from a pile of junk next to you on the street. You bring it to bear across Klein's left eye, which drops him immediately to the pavement, he doesn't move, doesn't breathe.

"Never saw it." You say as you turn and walk back to the subway. Lucky thing it it's trash day, you hate to litter.