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




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Saturday, June 17, 2006  
Of Flies and Men
The theme of my recent posts, if you've noticed, has been the general stupidity and frivolity that encompasses the human mind. Now I could continue this theme of attacking others by speaking about someone like Beelzebub reincarnated, Ann Coulter. But I won't. Reasons for this include thinking about that haggard wench gives me the hibbly jibblies, I don't want to give her any sort of publicity or space on this website and I'm hoping that if I pretend she doesn't exist, she/it'll disappear.

Or I could talk about how Dharma herself, Jenna Elfman, and her boyfriend accosted and nearly physically assaulted this man for wearing such an ingenius t-shirt:






















But I won't....however, if you're searching for the perfect birthday gift for a certain someone's upcoming 21st, you know what to look for.

Instead, for a change of pace, I will portray to you how human stupidity stretches into the infallible (ahem) mind of yours truly. As many of my fellow Bruins are more than aware of, these past couple of weeks have been filled with the misery that is studying for finals and the actual finals themselves. Many of us, in our years of experience in ths vicious quarter system, know that the human brain can only sustain so much stress and erroneous factoids and formulas. After a while, the brain just starts to... leave. It eventually returns of course, upon completion of said studying and exams, and with enough time spend watching the sweet salvation of television, but it is a difficult and frustrating time and it takes its toll.

It is during this time of studying and cramming that we find ourselves doing the oddest and most neurotic things. In my case, I just develop odd habits during finals week. I take walks around my apartment for no apparent reason. I stare at the fish in my tank for five, ten forty-five minutes. I decide to raid the kitchen cabinets for snacks and then go to websites for those items (I recommend tostitos.com for great chip tips). In addition, my TV is kept off, an oddity in my room, in favor of my radio or iTunes. As a result, I hear and notice more things as I'm constantly looking for reasons to look away from my notes. It is in this vain that I found myself in a battle with the insect kingdom itself on Monday night of finals week.

As a immersed myself in the bowels of Neuroscience, which is a subject that I actually enjoy, something was amiss. A persistent buzzing kept appearing around my head. No, I wasn't having a stroke, instead I being victimized by... a housefly. Rudimentary shooing away sufficed at first, but then it became ridiculous. My mirrored closet doors are directly parallel to another set of mirrors by my bed creating a peak into oblivion itself. As a result, any fly that is caught in this mirrored vortex is sent into a frenzy. This fly went particularly apeshit as it zoomed between both mirrors, crashing into one then proceeding to crash into the other, all the while passing by my eyeline as I studied. The fly finally took a breather, landing on my computer to rest its weary...stick leg things. Now was my chance, to end it all. I grabbed a pack of Post-Its (blue) and hurled it at the wily beast, knocking several knick-knacks and accessories to the floor.... to no avail. The creature evaded my well-thought out attack.

The fly pranced around my room once more, smug in my failed attempt to take its life. I returned to my studies as the fly took its domain in my abode. Minutes passed until I noticed the insect had landed on my bed...the place where I sleep at night...as it rubbed its meaty paws (do you notice how flies do that? Rubbing their hands together like they're planning something. I hate that). I had my chance. I stood up very slowly... and hurled my neuroscience textbook at the fly, notes flying everywhere. I missed once more. But this time, as the fly rose from the debris... it charged at my forehead! It hit me right smack in the middle of my forehead and flew off again. And the game was on.

As the buzzing played in and around my head, as if the beast was taunting my every move, I lept upon my bed, like a poor man's Spider-Man, with a can of air freshner in my left hand and a copy of Unforgettable Places to See Before You Die in my right (which I recommend as a great stocking stuffer). Crouched upon my bed, like a poor man's Tarzan (but way hotter), I was prepared to do away with the primitive creature once and for all. It finally landed on the mirror by my bed, as if trying to communicate with its own reflection (idiot). I quickly unholstered my can of Glade Air Infusions Clean Linen scented spray and gassed the cunning bastard. Stunned, it flew away, seemingly confused yet enamored with the enchanting fragrance, and descended upon my quilt. I looked Tim right in the eye and struck him with Unforgettable Places to See Before You Die. I slowed my arm down as it came crashing down just so the monster could see the irony in what I was about to murder him with.... and the deed was done. The buzzing had ceased, silence, and clean linen scent, filled the air. I saluted the housefly before raising the book off of the carcass. As I slowly raised the book, no corpse could be found, but the buzzing had not returned.

I'd like to think that the fly had been vaporized into the afterlife after my crushing blow, but one cannot be sure. I still do not know where the animal's body is. Perhaps I shall never find it. But as I looked at my torn textbook on my bed, my notes strewn about my room and my computer desk decorations in shambles, I knew who had been the victor that night.

And for that sense of perverted accomplishment, I thank Tim.

2:30 AM
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