Life's our oyster and we're gonna suck that bitch down with a champagne chaser.



  • Behavioral Therapist
  • MA Developmental Psychology, Columbia
  • BS Psychobiology/ French, UCLA




  • Movies to See:
    Mission Impossible
    Haywire
    Shame
    A Dangerous Method
    Underworld:Awakening


  • TV Shows to Watch:
    Portlandia
    The Life & Times of Tim


  • Book to Read:
    Game of Thrones
    by George R.R. Martin


  • Album to Listen to:
    The Black Keys
    El Camino


  • Person to Hate:
    Newt Gingrich


  • Group of People to Despise:
    Fox & Friends




 

Bitchin Links


Blogs and Writers of Note

Mary's Website

Mary's Blog

Ravi's Blog

Lauren's Blog

Cheryl's LiveJournal

TV Squad

The Soup

Cracked

Best Week Ever

The Chive

On Location Vacations

Cute Overload

Michael Moore's Blog

Joel Stein Columns

Maureen Dowd Columns

Secular Coalition of America

Richard Dawkins


Personal Stuff

My Facebook

My Twitter

My YouTube Videos

My DVD Collection

My Books

Machatz Self-Defense


For Politics and Political Satire

The Huffington Post

Salon.com

Politico

The Daily Beast

The Onion

The Colbert Nation

Truthdig

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart


For Entertainment

Ain't It Cool News

IGN

Rotten Tomatoes

DVD Active

Movie Stinger

AdTunes

The Daily Wav

Movie Mistakes


For Humor and Other Things

HuffPost Comedy

Funny or Die

The Lonely Island

Shit My Dad Says

F My Life

Daily Python

College Humor

Super Mario Crossover

People of Walmart

E-Mails from an Asshole

Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster

God Checker

Church Sign Maker

Strong Bad Email

Japander: See Actors Embarrass Themselves Abroad

Landover Baptist Church: Jesus Loves You Sometimes


For Bruins

The Daily Bruin

Bruins Nation

Bruin Basketball Report

UCLA Bruin Marching Band: The Solid Gold Sound

The REAL $UC Application

















 
Old Stuff
March 2003
April 2003
May 2003
June 2003
July 2003
August 2003
September 2003
October 2003
November 2003
December 2003
January 2004
February 2004
March 2004
April 2004
May 2004
June 2004
July 2004
August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
September 2007
November 2007
January 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
January 2010
February 2010
March 2010
April 2010
June 2010
August 2010
November 2010
December 2010
February 2011
April 2011
May 2011
July 2011





 


Photobucket
 
Thursday, May 11, 2006  
Humpty Dumpty Had a Great Fall, That Clumsy Son of a Bitch
Ever since I was a wee lad, I had dreamt about having the ability to fly. Like Superman. Sadly, this week my body told me, "No. You cannot fly."

It had been a particularly long day, Tuesday, One of those 9-6 days. The kind of day where you'd rather stay in bed instead of waking up. The kind of day that, well, sucks. Aside from my usual classes beginning at the ungodly hour of 9am, I had to run participants in the research study I'm working for. In between those studies, I inputted data from the study in a grad student's office. After that, at around 5:30, I went to a Psych Honors Society meeting which I felt obligated to go to since I missed the last meeting. You see? I'm a good boy. I went to class, got a perfect score on my Neuroscience quiz, worked in the clinic, spent two hours inputting data, worked in the clinic some more and went to an honors society meeting. In addition! I gave moral support to one Mr. Dehar, who's running for Campus Events Commissioner (VOTE, BITCH!), as he handed out fliers on Bruinwalk, all while donning my Bruins United t-shirt which I generously purchased from a friend who's also running in the election. You see? I'm a good lad. I completed my hefty share of academic duties as well as my friendly duties, and how does the earth pay me back? By rewarding me with a healthy serving of concrete and bricks.

You see, after completing my tasks for the day at around 6:30 pm, it was time for me to leave. To go to my car and leave. But the brick steps in front of Kerckhoff Hall would have nothing of it. As I descended the steps, the same steps I've been ascending and descending for the past three years, one of my legs, the left, decided to tuck itself behind my other leg, the right. My body, the smart puppy that it is, albeit a rock-hard and powerful one (ladies), decided to keep propelling itself forward. As you might imagine, even without a course in elementary physics, the results were not favorable.

As I became airborne, I wasn't sure what to think. There are about six steps from the top to the bottom and I was in the air above the steps, set to land (or crash, depending on how you look at it) at the base of the steps. And before you scold me for not gripping the handrail, there isn't one on those steps (next year's USAC platform perhaps?). Needless to say, I got to 2nd base with a substantial piece of concrete, leaving my chin with its own moat and my left arm in shambles. I should be thankful, I suppose, that more people weren't around to witness it. In the process of tumbling, my cell phone also became airborne and landed about 10 feet from me. A nice girl with a lovely expression on her face was kind enough to retrieve it for me. "Thanks. I'm an idiot," I said to her, mangled, crimson chin in hand. The Jehova's Witness who was pretty set to try to tell me why I should witness Jehova in case he's put on trial, sheathed his propaganda in his throat and said, "You alright, brother?" I peered at him through the corner of my eye as I gathered myself and responded, "Happens to the best of us, I guess," as I bled, just missing his faux-Armani suit. With my head down as to not scare any young ones, I suppose, I briskly walked to my car. Along the way I saw some Bruins United constituents who noticed my shirt and complimented me on it. I thanked them by not looking directly at them. I finally got to my car, and drove away, clutching a tissue to my brutalized chin, looking as if I was pondering something the entire way home.

I realized I had a midterm to study for as I got home, noticing the horrified expression on my mother's face. "You have to go to the emergency room!" she said. I avoided looking directly into my bathroom mirror and said, "I can't. I have a midterm tomorrow." You see? I'm a good boy.

No matter how much self-defense I teach or take, I always manage to get the shit kicked out of me, all by myself. From airbags to brick-laden steps, I've faced the most gruesome of foes.

It turns out that I probably should've gone to the hospital to get a couple stitches, but it's too late now. The healing process has already begun and this massive bandage on my face is just too damn attractive.

As I always say, somewhat condescendingly, when anyone complains about anything to me: "It builds character."
3:59 PM
Comments

Share

 
This page is powered by Blogger.Humor Blog Top Sites