Pop Quiz

True or False.........

Frank the Maintenance Man paid me for a gallon of 2% pasteurized milk with a dime, two nickels, three pennies, two different sized paper clips, a small black piece of plastic, and a green crayon.

"Office Hours"

Anyways..... i have decided to implement a practice in my dorm room called "Office Hours"..... this may be difficult to comprehend at first, but I assure you it is brilliant. The concept concerns establishing order in this usually unruly dorm experience...... what's going to happen is this: our door will henceforth be locked and no one will be admitted except by appointment. The goal is threefold: to gain a form of privacy for the dorm room, make the overall use of the room more efficient, and also to give me an excuse to dress up, carry a briefcase, and be condescending..... this practice may not take effect until after spring break......

Tents?..... Indoors?..... Indubitably?

It's amazing how much more you appreciate the spaciousness of your dorm room when you remove the tent that had formerly taken up all of the already very limited floor space....

but don't worry third floor Mcauley Hall.... we can still have a campout party in the lobby anytime.....

Relationships

????????????????

What is Calculus?

This question has plagued Science for generations. It is now generally accepted that Calculus is the study of the complicated and frustrating contraption called "Calculator". Although you may ask yourself why geniuses even try to study the unfathomable Calculator, a better question is "where do Calculators even come from?" Calculators have been proven to come from cavemen (and small rocks and churches) ...... one day the cavemen realized they needed something to add up how many caves they had so they discovered the Calculator. If you think i'm wrong, don't even try to argue....... It's Science.

To digress for a moment, the difficulty in comprehending the "Calculator" lies in the variety of forms that each "Calculator" evinces itself. I mean really, could the average person be expected to understand the "Calculator"..... it comes in all sorts of colors (silver, blue, black, etc.), shapes (circle, square, rectangle, house), and even varying masses ranging from 1.2 to 27.8 grams. COME ON.... there's like an affinity of possible combinations.

I suppose all i'm trying to say is COME ON SCIENCE... GET IT TOGETHER... let's make one "Calculator" that does everything and that every creature understands (even the platypus and jackalope)

How about it Science?

Buddha..... this one's for you

Sorry if any of you missed it, but Timothy Cunningham, as he is aptly named, rocked out with his Jazz Ensemble on the night of February 15 at 8:00 eastern time. The night consisted of a number of outstanding performances by Timothy on his "bari sax" as he cleverly calls his baritone saxophone. Timothy even played a solo with the help of his incredible lung capacity on his large brass instrument, which brought smiles to the faces of all who chanced to hear the grace which seemed to flow down from the heavens. There are simply no words to illustrate the holy vibrations that streamed from his gleaming instrument. Our ears rang with delight as colorful beauty transcended man and music, throughout the seemingly endless performance, and those who were blessed to attend were left yearning for the sweet ecstasy of sound.

Just don't stare.....

Memory is much like an art gallery. You may walk through and enjoy the memories embodied by the paintings on the walls, but you must be sure never to pause and wait there staring. For that is when you realize the faults of the art itself. You see the smeared lines and poor brush strokes which are bad memories and things you wished you'd forgotten. So as long as this beautiful art gallery of recollection is glanced through with expediency and sensitivity, it can be one of the most rewarding experiences and yet in the same token when too much time is spent there it can be so destructive. It is okay to look at the past, just don’t stare.....

For all those people out there who are marionettes

A relationship can be nearly described as a “connection”. I have found that relationships can be more accurately described using the example of a puppeteer.

Imagine for one moment that you are a wooden puppet. You send out your uncertain hopes and dreams in the form of puppeteer’s strings with the aspiration that someone might take the reins of your life and use them responsibly. When you fear that you are all alone and can’t go on any longer you send those same strings out so that anyone who shows slight interest may grab hold of the ever important strings that hold sway over your emotions, sentiments, and your innermost being. Almost as quickly as this persona appeared and promised you the world, they dissolve, cutting away your strings with their knife of fallacy and burning your simple wooden frame with the fire of false hope leaving you with nothing but a spider web of tangled strings, a charred heart and no one to hold on to. Everything that yesterday you considered so dear has been stolen from you in the dark of the night and you wake up the next morning without the tears to cry. It’s almost as if you are trying to hold on to this vague sense of purpose that has yet to be determined and the hope that someone will come along to keep you from falling off the precipice of reality into the abyss of self doubt and insecurity. But there is some hope nay some dream that someday that puppeteer will come along who knows the way to guide you through time with their gentleness and to direct you away from the depths of despair with their hand of hope. This person may yet come and it is for this reason that you must persist with diligence in the arduous quest for that being who you do not yet realize…… the puppeteer

Red Hair

You know.... sometimes little old ladies are intrigued by my red hair and feel the need to touch it to an excess...... and sometimes as they are just about wrist deep in these beautiful locks, I consider telling these little old ladies that i haven't showered in about three days; and then i reconsider and say...... "you know..... last night i rubbed some weird fruit which is a combination of kiwi and cucumber all through my hair because of peer pressure"
Because that's just as true......

Soda Gorillas

So there I was right..... sitting in my room with Tomas the Honduran and Frank the Maintenance Man...... and Frank decides to leave my room for the first time in days.
Suspecting nothing, Frank is surprise attacked from behind by the infamous Soda Gorilla, the only known predator of Tomas the Honduran. Luckily Frank was able to subdue the infamous Soda Gorilla by drinking it to death and in so doing he saved the fragile yet beautiful life of Tomas Ayuso, one of my favorite Hondurans.........THE END

When Time and Consequence Befalls us All

(A short unfinished dissertation on the life and times of Seamus O’ Baker O’ Callahan)

A lone stallion galloped across the pale sky of a moonless night. The horse was strong, beautiful, and majestic; for if ever there was an image of Gods grace it lay inside the poetic movements of this finely tuned muscular machine. “CRASH,” lightning lit the scene with a sudden rushed flash that gave only a fleeting glimpse of what one saw, save one set. For upon, a mesa of considerable grandeur stood one lone man. Now be forewarned the description that is henceforth written has been known to kill grown men and make babes weep at its very mention. Without much further ado I present to you a man, yet not just a man. This is some strange concoction only fit for a madman too crazed to realize the simple truth of cause and effect. This “thing” was too much of a beast to be fit for the world of man yet too much of a man to be called a beast. He stood ten feet tall and could hurl boulders far beyond the reaches of the horizon. It has been said that the Lord himself reached his mighty hand to the earth and formed this “man” from the rocks, earth, and the life of nature that held the world in existence. In fact this man taught Thomas Jefferson to read and George Washington not to lie. I could speak myself insane with this man’s accomplishments, yet that wouldn’t even approach his true magnificence. The glory of this man lay upon his head. His locks…the color of the most intense ruby red to exist. They fell around his masculine frame like one illuminated Angel. That being exactly what he was; an Angel, an Angel of Doom, Love, Compassion, Creation, and Destruction. For he and he alone could conquer that poet of a beast that still rushed forth into the night sky…….

Regretfully cut short due to pressing ecumenical matters.

By, Franklin Wayne Gehres