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mood |
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Ridiculously Dramatic |
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music |
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God, I'm really dramatic |
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Things I have learned this week/end:
1. Getting drunk on a wedneday: good idea at the time, bad idea the next day
2. Going on adventures consists of little else than getting lost in lancaster looking for video games
3. Not watching Bridget Jones's Diary for three days in a row is not the end of the world
4. Replacing 'love' with 'penis' into most poetry or songs is far more entertaining than one might think
5. Adult Swim is possibly the greatest part of the week
Now...my friends...I have a grand tale that is not fit for numbered lists. It is a far-reaching epic that transcends time and space, moving the hearts of millions. And so I begin the story:
Not long ago in a place Founders D, a half-decent dormitory where many assorted residents resided, a girl lived who was perfectly content in her belief; the faith in her safety. She believed with all of her heart that apart from the drunken antics of those who lived amongst her and occasional shower scalding, she was safe in her little room. It was an asylum which no evil could penetrate, which no foe nor creature of the night could reside. But irony is the lesson in which this girl would learn all too well.
It was a gorgeous Saturday when the girl awoke to find her roomate absent, most likely traversing the elements to her job in the far off land of Lancaster. The slight hangover she felt would not sway her jubilant mood. Sounds of groggy twenty somethings wafted into her room, filling her with the urge to change into suitable saturday clothing. Preparing to exit the room and fill her lungs with the smoke of Marlboro, she spied a flying object buzzing about the light fixture. Frantically she ran out of the room, then returned to contact one of the male sex to aid her in this crisis. The one called Mark offered his assistance in this sordid matter, but the girl turned down the aid. After all, she believed this bug, although one of the flying sort, was of no danger to her well-being.
She joked and dramatized the situation over meals to her good friends. It would most likely murder her during sleep, a silent killer who longed for her death. While entertaining, the thought never entered her mind that this buzzing creature may indeed attempt such an attack. Alone in her room except for the heater and her blankets, the girl soundly slumbered, dreaming of fantastical things. Suddenly, a sharp pain entered her left ring finger, a needle-like sting extending into her forearm. Confusion entered into her half-conscious state and she stood up, turning the light on to reveal a dastardly wasp lounging on a chair. This time, the panic was real, as the girl once again fled the room, returning again to contact one who was male. This time, Jon answered the call for help, hurrying to her room and whisking her away to the safety of Founders A.
The pain in her finger quickly dissipated, but not the fear. She spent most of the sunday running in and out of the room for items of importance, dreading the inevitable bedtime which would occur. Informing her roomate of the days events, she wandered off to a safer place. As night approached, she grew more and more agitated, only diverting her attention to view television programs. Fatique soon overcame her and she threw her hand to her forehead, saying her last goodbyes to those she loved. Resigned to her fate she sparked the tip of one last cigarette, realizing the thing that would eventually kill her resided in her home, not her lungs.
She entered the room and went about her normal nighttime routine. Realizing she might be able to save herself after all, she grabbed the ice blue flashlight lying on her desk. Her roomate slept soundly, and the girl creeped throughout the tiny room in search of wasp holes. Shaking out her blankets, she was satisfied the wasp had either expired or left in search of a new victim. She climbed under the warm sheets and set the alarm...but something told her not to succumb to sleep. The light clicked on under her thumb and a force pulled the girl towards the window. The shade swung up a little and she pointed the flashlight downwards to reveal the creature that was certainly created in the depths of hell crawling on the window sill.
Both the girl and the creature seemed surprised to find the other one there. It was as if a moment of hesitation washed over the creature, while the girl, filled with an animalistic rage, brought the heavy cylinder down to crush the evil being. Again and again she bashed the wasp, until its ridiculous strength gave out and only a reflexive twitching moved its mangled body. Staring at the corpse, the girl breathed heavily and collapsed on the floor, the weapon rolling out of her hands. A triumphant feeling overcame her and her roomate, who was only slightly less ecstatic to hear the good news. She slept soundly that night, in a room that was once more secured for the forces of good.
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