I guess the last few posts (minus the puppet ones) make this blog my bitchin' blog: my blog for bitchin' & rantin'. In spirit, I am going to list 9 problems of mine:
1. Paper due Tuesday
2. Presentation due Tuesday
3. Need to make two 3-D objects, even though my construction skills are equivalent to that of a 3-year-old
4. Need to find a new crowd to hang with (Decided to "start fresh" this year by essentially eliminating asshole-y people from my life, yadda yadda yadda)
5. Bored as fuck
6. Would rather be overseas
7. Complicated situation with a member of the opposite sex
8. There's a crack in my kitchen ceiling
9. Want to delete Facebook account, but it's regaining its appeal right after I send out the message telling everyone I'm deleting it.
Bitch.
Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Sipping on Cosi, Thinkin' bout Trulli
I arrived about 37 minutes early to Art History so that I can write this blog post and sip on my Cosi cappuccino with a shot of French vanilla.
On my way to Cosi I saw a portly old business man wearing a Mancester scarf. And then on Michigan I saw a middle-aged woman wearing a Liverpool scarf. This kind of sucks because twice in about a 5-minute period I was reminded of this guy I met and had a thing with in Madrid, who was from England. His Facebook stati always mention something about some football match that apparently occurred recently. He poked me on Facebook a few weeks ago just so I could find out that he's finally "in a relationship." What a douche. What a wankah.
Anywho, it's another lazy Wednesday, seeing as I don't really have anything due for Core tomorrow, and just a 1-page proposal for Pun Intended. I have to think of a project I'd do if given $6,000,000 for funding. It's going to be a trullo, which is kind of a little stone or stucco hut that peasants built in the Italian region of Puglia (Cisternino, represent) many centuries ago due to high property taxation. However, I'm going to make it out of bullet-proof glass, furnish the dwelling with highly expensive furniture made to look crappy, and place it in the middle of Little Italy in New York City. In order to enter the trullo, you must claim Italian heritage. Once inside, you (as long as you're Italian) can enjoy a savory, mouth-watering, orgasmic Italian meal that includes my family's kickass sauce (or "gravy", as us real dagos call it.) It has to do with Little Italy's being gobbled up by Chinatown and loss of cutural identification, yadda yadda yadda. More details later.
And did I mention that there's totally a small town near Cisternino called Palmisano?
(Click for detail)
On my way to Cosi I saw a portly old business man wearing a Mancester scarf. And then on Michigan I saw a middle-aged woman wearing a Liverpool scarf. This kind of sucks because twice in about a 5-minute period I was reminded of this guy I met and had a thing with in Madrid, who was from England. His Facebook stati always mention something about some football match that apparently occurred recently. He poked me on Facebook a few weeks ago just so I could find out that he's finally "in a relationship." What a douche. What a wankah.
Anywho, it's another lazy Wednesday, seeing as I don't really have anything due for Core tomorrow, and just a 1-page proposal for Pun Intended. I have to think of a project I'd do if given $6,000,000 for funding. It's going to be a trullo, which is kind of a little stone or stucco hut that peasants built in the Italian region of Puglia (Cisternino, represent) many centuries ago due to high property taxation. However, I'm going to make it out of bullet-proof glass, furnish the dwelling with highly expensive furniture made to look crappy, and place it in the middle of Little Italy in New York City. In order to enter the trullo, you must claim Italian heritage. Once inside, you (as long as you're Italian) can enjoy a savory, mouth-watering, orgasmic Italian meal that includes my family's kickass sauce (or "gravy", as us real dagos call it.) It has to do with Little Italy's being gobbled up by Chinatown and loss of cutural identification, yadda yadda yadda. More details later.
And did I mention that there's totally a small town near Cisternino called Palmisano?
(Click for detail)
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