Fun is where you find it...

So, I've spent the last hour hanging out at the Library at Dalhousie University, and there are two points being strongly driven home here. Firstly, I hang out with some pretty attractive people. And, as an aside, I'm not shallow, and I don't really concern myself with people's looks. But this library is lookin' pretty damd hott.
I think it's safe to say that the lecherous (sp?) old man gene has kicked in, because, well, as the fucked up kid in American Beauty said, and this is a direct quote "flying bags are fucking beautiful, aren't they, teenaged other girl in the show?" I think he actually said...

Wait. There are about 300 people in here writing term papers due in 15 minutes, and there's a custodian shoving a completely fucked, rattly, smelly, wobbly, squeaky garbage cart through the computer area.
Wait. He's dead. Two female undergrads just finished him off by gnawing off his neck. The glares he got from everyone else knocked him unconscious, anyway, so he didn't feel a thing.

Ah, the old school library. It seems like just decades ago that I was sitting here, writing text-based telnet e-mail on monochrome monitors with PCs that rivalled the power of graphing calculators. Yep, this September was the 11th anniversary of my entry into the halls of higher failing. And looking around this place is like looking back in time, because the people are all the same (though a little younger and more attractive). There's the nerdy poser girl with stupid glasses who will end up being my roommate for two hellish years.
There's the two nerds talking about math while only the language of love (Chinese) passes between them. And there's some girl with huge earrings. But she's not from my past. SHe's from my FUTURE. BWAHAHA...? Huh?

So, like I said, two points in the library are being driven home. First: people are hotter when they're younger (Ah, there's a little Dan Lazer over there, just thinking about feelings and how gross he's going to look in a year when he wears a child's "Jar Jar Dinks" costume to a University Newspaper Halloween party --- and this isn't hot, no, not at all, but I saw it at the wrong point in this post, so here's where it will stay), and secondly, I think, point #2 has evaporated.

So, in conclusion, I'm thinking of coming to Toronto next week, because I don't work enough to give me any reason not to. Maybe there's a nice publishing job there that I could (Jesus! someone's got too much fucking perfume on) walk right into and revolutionize by being fired within 45 minutes of downloading massive amounts of animal-based porn. None of that Japanamation crap, either. Just hardcore donkey on pig action, with no download time and ... $45,000 per year.

So, in 45 minutes, I would make.... $11.68. But that's assuming I worked 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Which I promise to do, if I'm hired. Really.

Well, as you may have guessed, I really didn't have anything to say. If somecats was a hotdog, I'd like to think I'd be the lips and asses that gave it that "I wonder what that aftertaste is" taste.