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The 21st?  Urg.  You’re kidding me.

Ah, then end of the summer semester.  You’d think I’d be glad it’s over so I can start working on new classes.  You’d be wrong.  Very, very wrong.  I’m freaking the fuck out.  Again.  You’d also think I’d be used to cramming at the end of a semester.  You’d be right.  That doesn’t mean I like it or am going to change my ways.  Procrastination is my frenemy.

I’m writing this blog instead of writing papers on who knows what (I really can’t even remember the topics I picked).  This is soooo bad.  I’m totally going to college hell.  Oh wait!  I’m already there.

I have two weeks to get this shit done and I’m up to my eyeballs in work.  The kind for which I actually get paid, not potentially paid if I ever get this damn degree finished.

your damn hand penis freaks me out.

I know this is off topic, but I have to ask: WordPress, what the hell is this supposed to be?!  It’s very distracting and right under my post.  That stupid whatever-the-fuck is the reason I usually draft my blogs in Word or even Notepad.  Because your damn hand penis freaks me out.


Ooh, I know!  It’s a pencil rocket!  Right.  It can’t be a hand penis, because who’s ever heard of a hand penis?  It must be a pencil rocket.  ‘Cause you can’t walk 5 feet without seeing someone about to set off a pencil rocket.

No, wait.  I think it’s a jujitsu move.  You shove a pencil up someone’s nose and it kills them instantly.  I’m pretty sure I saw Uma do it in Kill Bill.  Whew!  I’m glad that’s settled.

Now, back to this homework I don’t want to do.  Yup.  Just decided that I should candy some pecans to put on the pork chops that Dan has on the smoker.

Oh. My. God.  These freaking candied pecans are AWESOME!  Why have I never made these before?!

Now, I think I’ll do the dishes.  By hand.  That ought to kill at least 15 minutes.  And maybe put a load of clothes in the washer.

After that I should probably see if it’s my turn on any of my Words With Friends games.  I don’t want people booting me off their friends list because I take too long playing my turn.

He probably needs all that or none of that

Oh, look!  Dan’s started a fire in the fire pit in the backyard.  I should go see if he needs any bug spray or beer or lighter fluid or citronella candles.  Yeah.  He probably needs all that or none of that, but it’s only polite that I ask, right?

Maybe I can’t concentrate because… Oh look!  A squirrel!  This late at night?  Where’d I put that pellet gun?  Imma get that sucker.  He’s the reason I can’t have any bird feeders.  Well, it’s probably not all his fault, but I’ll bet he knows a squirrel who knows a squirrel.  They probably have some sort of squirrel mafia.  So, if I injure the squirrel, does that mean they’ll put a hit out on me?  Crap!  I didn’t think this through.  I should probably look up the social habits of the North American Pain-in-My-Ass Squirrels.

Surprisingly, the articles didn’t mention the squirrel mafia.  That’s how secretive those damned rats are.

It’s 9:42?  Where did this day go?  I should probably put the candied pecans away before I Dan eats them all.  And I totally forgot to put that load of laundry in the dryer.  And I should check to see what the charge percentage is on the Roomba.  It sweeps the floor for me so I can concentrate on my schoolwork.

Remember: the Squirrel Mafia is watching.