Wednesday, September 28, 2005

california love

California Love - Tupac Shakur w/Dr. Dre (pops)

What can I say? I love vocoders. From Tupac to Peter Frampton to Aerosmith...

Wait. Scratch that. Too repetitive.

Nothing new to report from the southern front. Same old same old.

Test tomorrow in AmGov. I'm not too worried, since I knew all of the pertinent details in the review on Tuesday. Anything I don't know I can fabricate from whole cloth to a quality indistinguishable from actual fact.

Or, in simpler terms, I can bullshit something real purty.

The great thing about mixed media tests is the multiple choice section jogs your memory for the essay section, as long as the two question groups cover basically the same ground. This is one of the cases where the entire test is taken from the same material (no media-specific topics), so no problems there.

Also, I should do well on the Bobby Hill principle: "How can you fail English? You speak English". I live in America, how can I fail a test about America?

As far as Music goes, I haven't fallen asleep in there yet (despite the overwhelming urge to do so), so I feel like a success.

I periodically need someone to slap me into writing something productive. Can I trust one of you intrepid readers to do that? Just a reminder every couple of weeks to produce a written piece that isn't homework or a blog post. I've been slacking in that department, and it's kind of embarrassing to have my only writing output be inane ramblings about "Traditional Law-making as Enacted by the U.S. Legislature" or "Hey, did you watch TV last night?".

I can do better than that. Not by much, but a little bit.

If I could get one short story completely finished, I could probably snowball that into writing five or six, and then I'd be happy. Or something close to it. I just have to force myself to physically put the ideas on the screen.

I would write in longhand during class, but I can barely read my own handwriting on normal stuff, much less when I get on a creative roll. Yes, it's that messy. I freely admit it. There's a reason my old drama teacher put notes on my hand-written essays asking "Is this written in Aramaic? Because it sure ain't written in English."

My "creative" handwriting actually does take me a minute to decipher. My mind moves so much faster than my hand, and my poor carpal-tunnel pre-arthritic hands don't have a chance of keeping up.

Oh well, that's all for now. Stay in drugs and don't do school.


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