fuck your salad!

(This doesn't count as a blog of substance.)

"Fuck your salad!" is one of the new phrases I use to freak people out. These days, you can call people all sorts of names and they won't blink, but it's got to be really disconcerting to hear someone scream "fuck your salad," you know?

Here's the deal, banana peel:

This semester's going well so far. I've got two papers, two tests and one project to get through and I'll be done. Barring a major meltdown I should be in good shape. In Fall 2009 I'll be going for a degree in American History, concentrating on the Colonial and Revolutionary periods. I'm looking at University of Maryland and Drexel and I'm sure both will laugh at me.

And I have no idea what's going on with the rest of my life. I've decided when people I haven't seen in a while ask me how life is going I'm gonna tell them "I'll tell you on my 30th birthday." That way, when I (you know) there will be this wave of people across Maryland going "Ohhhhhh...so that's what he meant." And then they'll think it was their fault, feel bad, and kill themselves. And so, I'll be the first person ever to commit mass murder from beyond the grave. You don't need to tell me that's a good plan because I already know it's awesome.

But seriously, I don't know. We'll see, we'll see.

P.S. I just googled "fuck your salad" and the first result had to to with those guys that made the Matrix movies. Medicore minds think alike, hm?