mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- JP Rambles On. He's a ramblin' man. I just got done with a test in my computer class. You know, the one that asks about stupid shit like, "A communications device includes all of the following except:" The correct answer was "Network operating system software." Yeah... really. No shit. Even though the test was super easy, I did my usual test-take tradition of having super-sweaty armpits. This happens when I take *any* kind of test, the armpits take every bit of liquid I have drunk in the last two weeks and decide to empty said liquid down my arms. As someone who likes to try and explain bodily functions as reminants of evolution from our caveman days, I am completely stumped by this little bit of physiology. I can understand sweaty palms: better grip on the stick, so you can toss it harder when you are being attacked by a T-Rex. Crapping and/or peeing your pants: Gross out Ooga-Booga when he wants to take your sabor-tooth meat. But an unusual gushing of the armpits??? Someone who's a doctor, help me out. There isn't anything that's as distracting while taking a test is super-cold armpit sweat running down your sides. Thank god I wore a thick, long-sleeved shirt to school today, or I would have armpit rings that would compare in size to Saturn. And hot chick in the back would lose any sexual fantasies she has ever had of me. After searching high and low all of these years looking for a difference between guys and girls, I have finally stumbled upon a good enough reason to quit my search, hang up my hat, and be satisfied. Is it that whole "X-Y Chromosome" conspiracy? Nope. Is it the genital rumors? Nuh-uh. My boy, The Might Geek, posted to a message board of a blog I like to read. He explains it so elequently and soooo perfectly: "Well, I've found that there's only one real difference between guys and girls. Guys can make a convincing machine-gun noise and girls can't." See? Isn't it true? Go try it! And ask your friends to try it. Stand up in the middle of the class and look like a dumbass and ask everyone to join along in a class-wide machine-gun soundoff. (By the way... I didn't do this. I just thought it would be funny if you did.) My Good Friend Kourtney is on a little vacation. And this bothers me for several reasons. First off, she is on vacation IN NEW YORK. Um... I love ya sweetie, but was it a rumor that New York is now a playground for big jets who like to play "Dodge the Skyscraper"? Speaking of big jets... SHE FLEW TO NEW F'n YORK! Gawd... I'm worried sick. New York freakin' City. I still have no takers on wanting to design my diary. It looks like I am going to have to find someone who actually does it as their official "for fun hobby." You know, someone who hasn't ever read this here diary. Well, at least you can give me new title ideas. Or say you like the current title. Say something to me, dangit. That's why I have the message board. I neeeeeed messages. They make me so excited, my genitals suck up into my body cavity. (thank Mike Meyers for that little laugh you probably had. He made it up, not I.) Oh, yeah... I was "sick" this morning, so I didn't go in to work. If you are wondering why I am not going on and on about Hell Day, this is the reason. But I still woke up at 4:00 just out of habit. So, I wrote a paper for my drama class. Printed it out, realized I was a bit drowsy. I watched a couple of minutes of M*A*S*H and slept till close to noon. Woke up, studied for my computer test, went to eat at St. Louis Bread Co., and then came to school. In my drama class, we read parts of a few plays. I usually like to read out loud in that class because reading keeps me awake for the 3 hours I am in there. So today we read a few plays with a lot of "fucks" in the scripts. Guess who got to say "fuck" over and over without getting in trouble! Me! Guess whose lines made the class laugh! Me again! Step back, jack! I'm kewwwwl! Thats' it for me. I have to go back and learn more about this thing I am typing on. Yall take care, now. 7:29 p.m. - Tuesday, Sept. 25, 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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