Sunday, April 24, 2005

Last Exam

Highly recommend downloading "Rapture Rapes the Muses" and "Eros' Entropic Tundra" to get acquainted with flexible genre benders Of Montreal. They're a musical time machine.

Link to those lyrics found here.


Fuckkkkkkkkkkk. I fucked up my French exam. I know I could've studied more. I know I could've read things over. I know I shouldn't have crammed.

I know I should've slept.

At one point, I opened my eyes and was met by random scribbles because my 8 pound head had fallen on my writing hand and stayed there until I noticed. I mixed up the verb endings and my "cake recipe" consisted only of milk and peanuts.

"Tell me that was the most horrible thing ever," groaned Maussie, beer prominantly in hand.

I nodded empathetically.

NorIda, Swiss Alps, Lief, the aforementioned Maussie and I hung out with a bunch of people at a bar on Ste-Laurent until closing time, then grabbed two dollar chow mein at a little restaurant that served food through their large-paned window like parolees at a food bank. Mmm, with peanut butter goop and Sriracha sauce, it was fine dining. Well, as fine as we were going to get at 4 in the morning (but by all accounts, the stuff was surprisingly delicious). Lief took quite a liking to me. We discussed a lot about the role of institutions in determining (creating?) health trends, and a hodge podge of other factors that influence mental perception, including the sociological benefits of announcing illness. But he's too old for me - he's going for his MA in psychology next semester.

And then, like, some drunken asshole pulled out his pecker to show me and NorIda on our way home just as she was teaching me Spanish insults (Norwegian doesn't pack as much a punch).

Yes, yes, this is why I'm looking so desperately for a relationship. I'm sickened to death by all this degrading attention. The power of the gaze is enough to make me nauseous.

When will a sense of security come to give me an enviable shield of invincibility and relieve me of this perpetual state of masculine dread?


NorIda's headed for Costa Rica in 2 days and moving out of her apartment when she comes back. I was helping her take down posters when she went into MaineAid's room to fetch some boxes for packing purposes and was hit with the nastiest scene one can possibly see first thing in the morning: Dried semen proudly caked on a bedroom wall and coverless duvet. His trailer trash girlfriend must really like it ... messy.

Give me a second to vomit in my mouth.

No comments: