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Some Fall Colors & a look at Wheaton. Posted 10/25/2004 at 10:52 PM |
My Mini![]() 'nuf said. Posted 10/19/2004 at 2:14 PM |
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Wello (my combination of well and hello), I made it safely home today. I wanted to warn you though, of the Amoco gas conspiracy. I almost always have no gas in my wonderful car (see picture to left). So my first priority on the way home was to fill my tank. I have a BP/Amoco card, so I am looking for one of these stations in which to refuel. Well, I see an amoco sign at an exit, so I take the exit and follow the sign. No amoco. Frustrated, and out of gas, I try another gas station, but find that it only takes credit cards. More frustrated, I go to a I'veneverheardofthisbrand gas station and but $5.02 worth gas into my car. I thought it was nice that they only charged me for $5.00 of it, and reassured me that I was in Alabama. So I drive on. And shortly, I run out of gas again. So I start looking for Amoco/BP. And an amoco I see. So I follow the signs, and no amoco. Ok, frustrated is an understatement. Let's say I took a look at my sin nature, up close and personal. And I drove on until I saw the next amoco advertisement, which of course led nowhere. Furious and desperately out of gas, I drive onto the interstate again, eventually finding a BP gas station. So for all of you people traveling over fall break, beware the amoco conspiracy. Other than that, I went to the football game tonight, saw a bunch of good friends, went to Taco Bell and chilled, and then went to sleep. Football is such a funny sport. Isn't great to be back in the south (hypothetical situation). peace out Posted 10/16/2004 at 1:59 AM |
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Play it long and play it loud. This is Cryin' Bryan Dern, with Ketchup and Mustard! I'm comin' home, boys! Posted 10/14/2004 at 11:22 PM |
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In my efforts to promote fair journalism and examine all sides of so called Creaming Incident, I have taken the liberty to elevate Heather's Hearsay to that of a main entry. I implore the reader: read carefully between the lines of all dialogue on The Creaming Incident, and choose for yourself what you will believe--do not let someone else force their ideas upon you! Alright, I think that I, as a major factor in the notorious creaming, should get my side of the whole affair out there for the people to hear... So there I was, surrounded by these Covenant students. They called themselves "mac scholars" and everybody seemed to think they were pretty smart. Obviously I was intimidated. My rapidly beating heart had but one desire: to make a good impression on these “gods among students”. Therefore, you can imagine my horror when Wilson, approaching Gabi with the now historically significant cone, announced that the cone and her fate had become intertwined. A cold sweat began to form on my brow. With clammy hands I gripped the sides of my chair. My breath caught in terror as, amid the ensuing struggle between the forces of evil (Wilson) and my fearless brother, the cone cascaded down my quaking arm. As the chaos began to diminish, the scent of the splattered cream filled my nostrils and tears of anger and hurt brimmed up in my eyes. The Creaming Incident will eternally scar my soul... Actually, I guess it wasn't quite that bad... sorry for the horribly long post. Just thought you might appreciate another eyewitness account of the event. :) Posted 10/12/2004 at 10:45 PM |
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Alright, folks. Today we've got something special for y'all! Our very own Gabi Van Schoyck presents this amazing story of heroism, courage, and love for all to hear (ok, so I threw in the whole love story part...I just thought it sounded better that way). What is truth? I'll let you decide... Okay so here's the deal. The amazing Wilson Whitaker, Mr. Universe himself, has given me the once-in-a-lifetime-and-probably-never-to-be-offered-again opportunity to tell my side of The Creaming Incident. Here's what really happened, folks. So we're all sitting at dinner in the Great Hall, "enjoying" Chartwell's pizza and each other's company, when Wilson suddenly comes up behind my chair (yes, very sneakily) with a terrifyingly tall vanilla ice cream cone. He begins threatening me with it in retaliation to a small cell-phone prank I had just played on him -- which I hardly think is fair because he started it! Anyway, so the cone is getting closer and closer to my head and of course, I am starting to panic. (The ice cream is melting pretty quickly and I picture it suddenly toppling onto my perfectly coifed hair.) Then Trey runs and gets an ice cream cone of his own....he sneaks up behind Williker and startles the heck out of him by bringing it very, very close to Williker's face. Well of course, a friendly (?) struggle ensues between the two guys and their ice cream cones; the dreaded inevitable occurs and the ice cream topples onto the ground, completely sliming poor Heather in the process (she took it very well, by the way -- way to go, Heather!). I would have escaped relatively unscathed had it not been for Mr. Gentleman, Wilson Whitaker, who decided that my nose would look so much better if it had ice cream all over it! Oh, and did I mention that I almost became the third Mac scholar in a week to tip too far backwards in my chair and topple to the ground?? Thanks a lot, Wilson! So there you have it. The full story, in it's true and honest entirety. I believe anyone present at The Great Creaming would back me up on this. I feel the need to thank Mr. Universe for his gracious allowance of this guest post, and I will see ya'll around campus! Aurevoir et adieu! Posted 10/12/2004 at 3:3 PM |
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I must be turning into a true xangazon, because I am about to post a truly heartfelt thought, which hopefully will remain serious and in depth. I love Michael Rhodes. In a completely normal, manly way. He makes the list along with people like Humphrey Bogart, and as Casablanca says, "If I was a woman, I would be in love with Rick [Bogart]." For those of you who think this is wierd, I mean that I admire and respect him... I am a rowdy fan in his audience. ![]() Michael Rhodes, October 11, 2004 I will be posting in the next day my thoughts for the night. Right now, much homework beckons, and I have to let my brain calm to think things over. But as the Ent says, "I have been roused as I have not been roused in and age and a day." I must cool off and think what to do before my next post. Have a wonderful evening. Love you guys! Posted 10/11/2004 at 11:33 PM |
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Revision Well, let me see. There seems to be a story lurking behind the intricate detail of this painting. Actually, it happened on Sunday. I was enjoying the most elegant ice cream come when all of a sudden, Trey comes up behind me and tries to splatter my face with ice cream. I couldn't imagine why. Well, in trying to avoid it, I dropped my cone on Gabi's nose, from whence it fell onto Heather, Trey's visiting sister. So, if Heather needed any motivation to come here, there it fell. Right now Gabi is about to kill me, so maybe I did alter the story a little bit. This is what she would say happened: "He sneakily goes to get some ice cream, a gargantuan cone thing, and sneakily comes back to the table. He then sneakily comes up behind me and most devilishly, without warning, plops the ice cream come right on my nose! Then, again without warning, he throws the rest of it on poor, sweet Heather! And then he tries to apologize by painting this wonderful piece of art, but I'm not gonna fall for that, so no, this means war!" She then broke into Kreyol and, due to the profane nature of the dialogue, we will not post it here. Now this is the real story: I go to get some ice cream, because it's the weekend and I only get ice cream on the weekend. So I'm really excited that I get ice cream, because it is supposed to be really good today. So I get it, saunter over to Gabi, who is sitting there like a sweet little angel, and start the threaten to do a facial with the ice cream cone. Well, then, in conspiracy between Aaron and I, we try to plaster her face, but are intercepted by Trey, who also tried to splatter my face. But to no avail, except to contaminate my shirt with one drop. Meanwhile, I had lost my ballance in the interaction and happened to drop my cone on Heather and peck Gabi on the face with what was left. So now you know the rest of the story! Posted 10/11/2004 at 1:48 PM |
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The Creaming
Posted 10/11/2004 at 10:37 AM |
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Esteemed Friends, I sit here, listening to the cheerful sound of the microwave emanating its dreadful rays through my room and into my very person. I experiment tonight with grave dangers, friends. I, instead of taking a sociable blink tonight, have stalwartly undertaken to prepare Lipton's finest Pasta Sides, tonight's specialty being broccoli and cheddar. This is quite a noble undertaking, to be sure, and even more so, because I refrained from using the recommended milk and margarine (though they recommended using "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!"® Spread or Shedd's Spread Country Crock®). To say the least, it will be a great accomplishment on my part if no one is seriously injured in this experiment. Other than that, I have small portions of reading to do tonight, such as Numbers and several other extra-biblical books. But hearken, I have hope, for my soup/pasta side now sits steaming on my microwave, awaiting that moment when it will be ready for me to eat. haha yes! So, I hope that ballroom went well tonight. I wish William a happy birthday! Nothing else of consequence seems to have happened today. Some tutoring at the Beth. An assault or two by SNiP. Ice cream at Mr. T's. A grave dinner in the GH, brought to you especially by Mr. Salad. I leave you until I again find the need to appease the wrath of Gabs. For now, I remain devotedly your humble servant, known to my closest friends as, Mr. Universe signing off Posted 10/5/2004 at 10:10 PM |
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What a beautiful day today, with some lovely adventures. This evening began in Carter lobby. From there we formed a posse and masqueraded down the mountain. Our conversation consisted mainly of debate on feminism/masculinism/chauvinism, etc., and good uses of he/she/them. We came to the conclusion that, although we have lived only two decades at most, we men at heart have oppressed women for the last 3 centuries, at least. Therefore, in our writing, we will use the indefinite pronoun "she" for bad examples, and "he" for good examples. We arrived at our destination (which I will not mention here, lest I muddy its name and repute with the above conversation) and set in to our potluck dinner. Our speech, having served its purpose of stimulating thought, ceased as we looked to more serious and immediate business: food. Plenteous was it, and good. Desserts, provided from the night before, were luxurious, nor was the main cuisine in any way unappetizing. We, in the American tradition of overeating, thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. It was not until we had had thirds and fourths that we pushed back our plates and gave a contented sigh. Home cooked food left no disappointments. I remain grateful for the expedition down the mountain, for dinner in the Great Hall was described thus: If I took a handful of this dirt and ate it, it would be better than what I ate in the Great Hall. I will refrain from comment, having made an attempt to not complain about our food, but to rather be grateful. On the way back to our tents, we had another close encounter with the side of the mountain and an empty gas tank. But not to worry, we are all safely back on the top of the world. Trey awaits, or perhaps is receiving, his hair cut, while I prepare for another busy week of activities and some class. Posted 10/3/2004 at 7:43 PM |