Fag-tastic

It's not cool, Alan. I know you've been depressed and shit, and Valentine's Day sucks for everyone, but you can't pull shit like this behind my back. Blake was here for less than two fucking days, like two weekend nights, and you had to get your sticky little fingers all up in his business.

And Blake, he lied to me, too. "Naw, man. I'm tired. I think I'm gonna go back and sleep. You keep partying, it's cool." And he walked right into my suite and knocked right on my suitemates door, and they had themselves a fun little time.

Someone should have told me. Someone should have said something. And the way I found out... because they wouldn't have owned up to it, no no. I come home and piss first thing, like I always do. And there's a god-damn condom floating in the toilet. First, I think "Okay, a little gross, but sometimes there's no time to flush," but then I remember that Vlad's been living in the library, again, and Alfonzo... well, Alfonzo doesn't use that bathroom anyway. And I think, "who could Alan have fucked tonight?" and the pieces all came together.

It's not cool.

-Chaz

It's Wednesday Morning; You Know What That Means

No, no. I'm just kidding. I'm not wasted, or even planning on getting wasted before Thursday.

But this Wednesday morning means that Valentine's Day is over, and I'm officially as poonless as I was when it started. What can I say? I just haven't been fucking like my old self, lately. I'd worry, think I'd lost my touch, but it's not that I've tried and got shot down; I just haven't been trying.

We've reached that dead zone, where no new girls show up at the frats, the ones who still show up are either dating someone or I've already banged them. Fall semester, getting laid at the frats is like shooting fish in a barrel. Spring semester is almost the same, only there's more STDs floating around, and nothing is worse than a diseased fish.

There's just no motivation, you know? It's not really fun anymore.

Oh no... ladies and gentlemen, and ladies... is what the Chaz needs... a relationship?

Thoughts, advice, anything. If you've got a way out of this, please let me know. I've got a reputation to keep up.

-Chaz

I'm Not A Bookworm

I've in betweens Saturday activities, and I wanted to leave a note in defense of myself; I don't know how many of you read Vlad's post from the other day, but it's based on pure statistical falseness! The Chaz tries to do no more than 2 hours of homework in a single day,. and so how can I help it if Vlad is only in the common room the one night I decide to catch up in the classes I like better? An error of perception, I tell you!

The classes are going well, but I'm a little weirded out by how much they have in common. I mean, psych classes are all a lot alike, but that's because there isn't enough psych out there to fill two entire classes. But all my social studies classes feel like they're telling the same story. I noticed, in my first week, that something like half my courses have "Gay" in the name, but I don't think I knew just how gay it was going to be. I mean, literally every day is about gay something-or-other; I thought that, maybe, they'd talk about something else once in a while. Not, like, football or anything, but something other than an important supreme court decision, or a hate crime, or the lilting, lisping affect of the modern stereotype.

I'm listening to one of Alan's mixes right now, and that guy is seriously a fucking hippie. I can't listen to this stuff without seeing psychadelic flowers and people running around dancing. All that long hair.... who's going to pick up all those hairs? Seriously, my parents made me listen to this stuff when I was growing up--The Byrds, Simon and Garfunkle, The fucking Beatles--but I didn't think anyone made this music anymore. I asked Alan when most of these songs were recorded, and it's basically all within the last 5 years. You can't not enjoy it. I guess popular bands have forgotten the most basic principle of music : it pretty much always sounds good, unless you do something stupid to make it bad (like screaming, or playing way too loud, or letting computers skullfuck the recording).

Anyway, I'm on foot tonight, so I've got to get walking if I'm going to get there at 11. 11 PM, in case you didn't know, is officially the correct time to arrive at a party that started at 9 PM.

-Chaz