look mom! I'm an artist!

As a fake art student, (meaning I am technically enrolled as an art major but really I just do film and am completely artistically challenged at everything else) I sit in art history--in the second row in the middle because I am a rebel like that--just looking like

heh? 

Because we're looking at this....


why yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is in fact a URINAL 
yes! the kind boys pee in and check out eachother's thingys when they're not looking!
You might be thinking "okay, i guess if he made it, it could be considered art..."
WRONG
He didn't even make it. He found it, put his name on it and called it art.
So here we are looking at this piece of art and everyone is like
"I think this means..." 
 "Clearly this is a commentary on..." 
           "...symbolic of..."    

and I'm here like

 

its just a damn urinal, people!

So the next day I'm like "Okay. That's fine. I will accept it because I am just a stupid little fake art student who doesn't understand such complex things...apparently."


So now, the professor shows us this...




What...what is this? Nothing! There is nothing there!

And my professor is like

"Its minimalistic" 

and I'm just like

No. I don't understanddddd *sob quietly* I see nothing. 

So now there is this test next monday and currently I'm into the stressing eating fun dip. 

"What is the meaning of lifeeeeee????"

I also found myself slamming down 6 pieces of bread covered in glorious nutella.....

....I am not proud of that....nope. not at all....but it was pretty damn tasty. 

And suddenly, by some nutella induced trip...
REVELATION!

If I paint my name on a urinal or draw a single line down a piece of paper
I can be a real artist too!
yipee!!!!

Glad thats all cleared up. Now I'm not some fake art student anymore.
But there still is a test on monday I have yet to study for.....
yup. Just make up some randy meaning behind these piece of art and score another 68! ...because, ya know, I'm a REAL artist now and i know EVERYTHING....

The cold and frozen tundra that is Marquette

Every Monday, I kick ass.

Literally. I take karate.

I don't have a car, so when I have to go to my karate class I just take my bike. Yeah, it's pretty cold to be doing that in the UP in mid-November... I don't want to brag, but I'm pretty hardcore.

I was running late, and tore apart my room searching for my favorite mittens, the leopard print ones with the claws on top (I wear them to attract the local gentlemen). When I finally found them, I raced down to my bike, and mentally prepared myself for another freezing ride through the wind and weather.

NOOOOOPE.

My lock was frozen solid.

I ran back up the stairs, waving to an innocent peasant along the way who cowered in fear at my claws. I burst into Kashmir's room, made my best puppy dog face, and requested a ride. She slapped me across the face.

Just kidding.

She said she would drive me, so we walked out to her car. In return of the favor, I put my mittens away to save her the embarrassment.

We took the long trek out to the Freshman parking lot, and when we finally got to her car, we opened the door and got in.

Only that didn't happen, because the doors were frozen as well.

Perhaps it was a sign from a higher power, telling me to skip class. I will never know. I don't want to brag again, but Kashmir and I are pretty buff, so it didn't take long for us to get the door open.

Hiya!

I was just joshin'

"Don't let the facts stand in the way of a good story."

In a nutshell, my life is boring.

REALLY boring.

So sometimes I just make stuff up, but it's usually so weird that I say to myself "Self, you don't have to tell people you're making this all up, it's too stupid to be true!"

Well, apparently I'm more convincing than I though!

I've gotten several texts asking if I was alright after I was "sent to the hospital after stubbing my toe on a grand piano in a dorm." There are SO many things wrong with that statement...

So from now on, I will post pieces and label them as "fiction" when I'm just messing with you.

Sound off!