YOU give $16,000 to THIS man?
Because they totally, totally just did.
.
.
.
Yum.
2007/04/26
2007/04/18
G.M, S.O.B.
That's it. I must found Greg McLeod's School of Bullshit. The world has need of my secrets; how to get away with not doing your homework (it's all in the wrist), how to hand things in late and make it the teacher's fault (if there is an out-box, slip it in and then get it back later-whoops, guess you forgot to mark that one), how to get a little more time (staple the "wrong second page" onto the first, then "realize your mistake" when you're done), how to fake going home (stay away from the upper halls, and before you go back, run around outside a little to get that realistic redness in your cheeks), when to simply not show up to class (when all else fails), and my latest lesson, which was "how to do an oral presentation without having researched...anything".
I probably would have done it, had I known it was due today, but as it were I had to present a 5-page report on the Bernoulli Brothers, calculus pioneers extraordinaire. So I walked out of class, and five minutes later was back with 10 pages of internet material, hot from the library printing presses. During the other presentations, I highlighted important bits with Herb's pen, then ad-libbed away. When we were done, Ms. Mann made me present it to the other half of the class, too, because my story happened to be slightly amusing. And now as I write my report, I wonder what emphasis to put on the words "Sorry, I forgot to give this to you yesterday."
I probably would have done it, had I known it was due today, but as it were I had to present a 5-page report on the Bernoulli Brothers, calculus pioneers extraordinaire. So I walked out of class, and five minutes later was back with 10 pages of internet material, hot from the library printing presses. During the other presentations, I highlighted important bits with Herb's pen, then ad-libbed away. When we were done, Ms. Mann made me present it to the other half of the class, too, because my story happened to be slightly amusing. And now as I write my report, I wonder what emphasis to put on the words "Sorry, I forgot to give this to you yesterday."
2007/04/14
Tirededness
Well, after school on Friday I had to go lug a lot of music equipment, lights, drums, etc. to Seaquam's famine (Seafast)-a gig, then worked for 6 hours.
That's right, work. I am a groundskeeper, which is a great title; unfortunately I get no shack. So I drag baseball fields, put lines on em, and pound in the bases. I am nothing less than a professional geometrist. Diamonds, angles, occasional head-trig; a new-found obsession with clean, perfect lines and round, even circles. Chalk dust that chokes every pore on the body and is probably giving me cancer or something.
Anyways I got back to Seaquam, finished setting up, done. Ready for bands. The first group was terrifyingly good, technically. An energetic, bubbly wall of sound. Not exactly my bag, (man,) but when they got going they sounded like a musical turkey vulture in full flight. The second group...was acoustic guitars, three guys. It was their first show, and they were obviously talented but not exactly solid. The lyrics were flaky, catchy, and funny. Then there was an all-girl goth rock band. Yeah. Slightly depressing, but good singers and okay songs; my favourite music reviewer, Andreas Trolf, once said that an all-girl band is like a dog walking on its hind legs: it's not so much the fact that it does it well, just the fact that it's doing it at all. (I'm kidding) (Gosh!)
Then we got to play, which was fun. And hot-I was dripping by the end. I was suitably impressed that there were no major screw-ups; not that it was great, I flubbed a couple of the songs cause they were too high, but I had a good time.
Here's what we played:
Ebin-Sublime
Turn It On-The Flaming Lips
Deanimated?-(Us)
From the Ritz to the Rubble-Arctic Monkeys
Counting Down The Hours-Ted Leo/Pharmacists
Calm Before-(Us)
Light Up My Room-Barenaked Ladies
Learn To Fly-Foo Fighters
Then that was over so we packed everything up. By this time it was about 2 in the morning. In the van, back to my house, couple of carloads later and I can sleep. It was 3 and I was dead on my feet with a slurpee in my stomach.
3 hours later I woke up to go to work-I had to be there by 6:30 am-and now, a 14 hour shift (no breaks, plus just for fun me and another guy moved 5200 pounds of chalk off a truck and into a shed) later, the bags under my eyes have bags under them and here I go to sleep.
P.S. I stood up in my room this morning right after waking up and checked my energy gauge- I found that if I relaxed the world would just melt down out of sight. When my head smashed into the wall, I realized the world was not falling away but I was just falling over backwards.
Moral of the story: it's all just perspective until your head hits a wall.
That's right, work. I am a groundskeeper, which is a great title; unfortunately I get no shack. So I drag baseball fields, put lines on em, and pound in the bases. I am nothing less than a professional geometrist. Diamonds, angles, occasional head-trig; a new-found obsession with clean, perfect lines and round, even circles. Chalk dust that chokes every pore on the body and is probably giving me cancer or something.
Anyways I got back to Seaquam, finished setting up, done. Ready for bands. The first group was terrifyingly good, technically. An energetic, bubbly wall of sound. Not exactly my bag, (man,) but when they got going they sounded like a musical turkey vulture in full flight. The second group...was acoustic guitars, three guys. It was their first show, and they were obviously talented but not exactly solid. The lyrics were flaky, catchy, and funny. Then there was an all-girl goth rock band. Yeah. Slightly depressing, but good singers and okay songs; my favourite music reviewer, Andreas Trolf, once said that an all-girl band is like a dog walking on its hind legs: it's not so much the fact that it does it well, just the fact that it's doing it at all. (I'm kidding) (Gosh!)
Then we got to play, which was fun. And hot-I was dripping by the end. I was suitably impressed that there were no major screw-ups; not that it was great, I flubbed a couple of the songs cause they were too high, but I had a good time.
Here's what we played:
Ebin-Sublime
Turn It On-The Flaming Lips
Deanimated?-(Us)
From the Ritz to the Rubble-Arctic Monkeys
Counting Down The Hours-Ted Leo/Pharmacists
Calm Before-(Us)
Light Up My Room-Barenaked Ladies
Learn To Fly-Foo Fighters
Then that was over so we packed everything up. By this time it was about 2 in the morning. In the van, back to my house, couple of carloads later and I can sleep. It was 3 and I was dead on my feet with a slurpee in my stomach.
3 hours later I woke up to go to work-I had to be there by 6:30 am-and now, a 14 hour shift (no breaks, plus just for fun me and another guy moved 5200 pounds of chalk off a truck and into a shed) later, the bags under my eyes have bags under them and here I go to sleep.
P.S. I stood up in my room this morning right after waking up and checked my energy gauge- I found that if I relaxed the world would just melt down out of sight. When my head smashed into the wall, I realized the world was not falling away but I was just falling over backwards.
Moral of the story: it's all just perspective until your head hits a wall.
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