Romanticism in an era of social obfuscation

I think it would be really romantic if a girl told me: "Oh Charles, you make wounds bleed and flesh crawl." But then again, my dear Lenore, I shall see thee, nevermore.

In case you are wondering why I am romantically attatched to an entropic corpus, watch the timeless classic, Nightmare Before Christmas, which remains one of my favorite movies ever.

Nothing really happens when you're on campus all the time, but I still manage to squeeze out a charming little social niche every once in a while. School plods on, inexorably with lots of reading and discussions and papers and bears. Oh my. My Great aunt and uncle came to visit yesterday from Missouri, and in preparation I had my fingernails painted black (like my foul heart) in preparation. As expected, they noticed them, but said nothing. My mother on the other hand pitched a fit about the corruption of the youth and so on. I was pleased with this result.

I've been thinking I should grab somebody's digital camera and take some pictures to post. There are lots of cool happenings on campus, and I should share some of them. For instance, I must post a picture of my sexy roommate, Adnan, because when he dies I GET DIBBS ON HIS THIGHS. Going along with that, I'm still the only person who has "human cannibalism" as an "interest" in his Blogger profile. That makes me a sad panda.

I'm about to be whisked off to go "spandex" shopping with a cute girl, so no matter what happens, I'll have a pretty damn good day.

See you later, space cowboy.