> netslackers <

this is not my homework assignment
-- Thursday, April 28, 2005 --

The time is 4:07 a.m. The place is outside the lounge on the floor I live on. I told myself four hours ago that I would begin work and so far

Nothing.

I need to write two 250-word essays by 2 p.m. 500 words does not take long to type. Hell, I've already got over 70 with the completion of this sentence and it only took me about three minutes to type. At this rate it should take me somewhere between 5 and 27 hours to complete my assignment because what I'm writing at this very moment has very little to do with what I should be writing.

Third Eye Blind once posed the question, "Can I graduate?" I too would like to ask that question but without screaming it to musical accompaniment.

Actually that's not entirely fair. I have actually quite enjoyed college. I would be perfectly fine with just moving on from my freshman year in which I have learned little and accomplished even less.

Students entering their first year of college this coming fall: beware. Your randomly selected roommate may very well call Satan's asshole his or her hometown. If this is the case and you are not hell-spawn yourself, prepare yourself for long sleepless nights wondering if this will be the night your roomie decides to crack open your head and feast on your brains.

You will probably come back to your room some night to find a combination lock you do not know the combination to on a chain wrapped around the hinges of your door in order to prevent you from closing the door without your roommate's permission.

Your roommate will probably also wear all black and communicate with you exclusively via slamming your the door very loudly in the morning to wake you up.

At least that's how my roommate was. I expect it's part of the first-year experience so learn to enjoy it!

Hey! Here's a treat! If you hurry over to my dorm right now, you might be able to catch some of the draw-droppingly beautiful sounds emanating from my floor's bathroom at this very moment! Or you can order my CD, Sounds of the Dorm Bathroom Part I: Food Poisoning and Alcohol. It features my personal favorite track, Barfing in B-Minor.

I could begin to think about what I might write my essays on, but I've still got several more hours of procrastinating I haven't completed. I better get on that.

> KC 4:07 AM [111467855463052671]
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CNN makes my life.

I would add funny commentary, but I just don't think it's necessary.

> Abby 4:31 PM [111454758619771933]
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Below is a list of words that you would not have found on netslackers had you done a search on the site prior to this post.

-Cheese
-Busty
-Funtastic
-Testicle

The point is that there's a lot of ground we haven't covered yet here at netslackers. Two years and not a single comment about testicles. Or even a testicle.

For shame.

> KC 4:49 PM [111096048096499103]
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Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, all of God's creatures, great and small, and you atheists, agnostics, and other such godless heathens,

Today, I, netslackers' Pope, received the sad news of my death. Tragic, indeed, would this event be, had it in fact taken place. However, I sit here today to reassure you that it was not I who perished atop that lonely tower in the Vatican on Saturday night, but rather my stunt double, George III, who has been in place since 1977, when I decided that I could better serve God from a secluded bunker on a remote Pacific island, where the ocean sparkles in the gentle breezes and the fountains flow with fresh pina coladas. Having determined that it was my saintly duty to scour this stronghold of the Devil for the forces of Satan, who ever lurk in the hideaways of a tropical paradise, I packed my floral print swimming trunks and set off. I am pleased today to report that, not only am I alive and safe within my secluded pineapple grove, but, owing to a small, but ferocious holy war I have waged for decades against the only other occupants of the island, a small, but savage breed of guinea pig, this island is now 100% godly. Let it be a light unto others.

George III was a good stunt double. He practiced the Popely wave until his shoulder ached and his fingers could not longer bend. He proudly bore the beanie of office and never once complained that it made him look like a slightly rounded Q-tip. On his brave headed rested the tall, pointed hat of authority, upon the sight of which many an enemy of God was struck dumb and rooted to the spot, either with surpassing awe or the uncontrollable giggles. That the world today mourns for his loss is indeed appropriate. However, we must keep in mind that he is not me, and therefore show a little perspective in our grief.

His death obligates me to resume those duties of Popedom that I so heavily shrugged off for a rugged lifestyle in the field lo those many years ago. My first order shall be to relocate the Vatican--in fact, make that the entire nation of Italy--to my island fortress. It would simply be too much of a hassle to have to figure out a way to ship my deck chair and impressive collection of exotic beverages back to Europe.

Secondly, I hereby forbid the development of peace, freedom, and democracy across the world. I feel as though the Vatican has been too long a slave to the old ways, and it is time that we took our rhetoric in an exciting new direction. It's the only way to hook the youth vote. Therefore, from now on, it will be nothing but discord, repression, and tyranny. I would tell you more, but under the last edict, I don't think I have to.

> Abby 3:06 PM [111255662324731336]
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