people dont think you learn things in college

but some of us picked a few tricks up along the way. especially if you figured out how to stay there for seven years.

anyways one of my writing teachers had a dare for all of us.

because we were precocious and dainty and bigheaded and thought we were the shit she said right before class was almost over

everyone write a five minute poem.

startinnnnnnnnng now!

and all fifteen of us were shocked and we flipped to an open page

and started writing something.

art she must have known can not be rushed, but there she was rushing us.

inspiration cannot be demanded to appear at the snap of the finger, but voila

and id say half of the kids in the room knew how to write.

some were excellent stylists, some mimics, but a few, a handful just knew how to tell a story.

one girl wasnt attractive in the slightest.

if mike royko had a daughter who looked like him in all the worst ways, that would be this girl.

but she wrote so well that i had a massive crush on her

four minutes thirty now

and it wasnt a race against the clock, in my mind at least

it was a competition against the others.

me against the world.

and when the five minutes were up the teacher said ok now these dont mean anything, it was just for fun

but then she read them aloud

and we laughed because some were clever

some were dumb

and there were no grades but i liked that unsaid approval or disproval right when your mind was floating off to which burger place i was going to skateboard past.

another quiz we had once was you have five minutes to write the worst poem you can think of. bad poetry, readddddddy go!

that one i highly recommend.

tonight a young lady invited herself over to my apartment to watch the annual golden globes competition and my house wasnt ready for guests and i had very little in the fridgerator and i really just wanted to stay in my pajamas, but there i was in my pajamas with some corderoys pulled over them and and hoodie over my pajama shirt and i finished watching the first half of the lakers heat game on one tuner while tivoing the globes on the other tuner.

she walked in and i thought, i got both tuners rollin, ive got pajamas on, and im not even gonna clean up my shit to establish with this new chick that what you see is what you get. you want a clean house, go back to your girl friends.

the cuban girl called in the middle of the show and i was all your bff is on the globes and sure enough there was busy philipps from one of my favorite tv shows, love inc at the ang lee brokeback mountain table! quite a step up from getting podcasted by some retard.

but the best part of the show was mariah carey, my girl.

bootyliscous.

but the best part of the night was after the awards i had to establish something else, which was, there will be a lot of drinking.

some young ladies, however, drank lite beer all through college.

and is now passed out on my couch.

and i had a teacher who said animals dont talk shoes dont talk and flowers dont talk – dont make things that dont talk talk.

thank heavens that couch keeps his mouth shut.

boink + brian + misty + columbia

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