Finding out your superhero name is also way better than writting essays

Your Superhero Profile

Your Superhero Name is The Magnetic Hornet Your Superpower is Soul Sold to Devil Your Weakness is Bald People Your Weapon is Your Poison Lasso Your Mode of Transportation is Pony

What's your Superhero Name?

Way Better Than Writing Essays

Me: Okay, work sucks….and if they say masturbation is like procrastination (it feels good until you realize you’re just fucking yourself) we should at least be fucking each other (or making out) if we are going to procrastinate cause that way it will feel good for both of us… ;)

Cute girl: I’m getting work done, ya slacker.

Me: That’s lame….I was coerced into the library under the pretense of a make out session…I’m prepared to leave if no make out ensues.

Cute Girl: Don’t leave.

Me: Take your top off.

Cute Girl: We are in a quiet study area. It would illicit too many screams. (of pleasure)

Me: It won’t be a quiet area for long ;)

Cute Girl: Hhmph.


Me: Tease.

Cute Girl: I am in the process of crafting the most brilliant cultural studies paper ever written.
You are a good muse though.
And good for the ego.


Me: I’m good for more than just the ego. Seriously though, making out in the library is like the holy grail of make outs…and you could count it as busting my library make out cherry…. I know you’ve been dying to bust some cherries. Furthermore like any healthy, sexually active student the library make out should be high on the list of university goals. In ten years you won’t remember this stupid CSCT paper, in ten years you will remember busting a make out cherry in the library.

Cute Girl: Brilliantly argued. A+


Me: Take your pants off. …okay, tell you what…I will write for a half hour, get a solid 500 or 600 words down on paper and then you and I can go get down in the book stacks. It’s good incentive to work.

Cute Girl: My moral systems are being compromised. I’m very confused.

Me: Let me simplify things for you….you + me = lonely. Library make out = best idea ever. Work for a bit = reward time. Reward time = library make out. Library make out = BEST IDEA EVER

...

Me: you know what the best way to celebrate the finishing of an intro to your paper is? The Library make out.

Cute Girl: I’m leaving,

Me: you suck, I need to find a more make out friendly study partner.

Cute Girl: Let’s go smoke.

Me: Then make out?

Cute Girl: I’ll think about it.




*** I have yet to start writing my paper.

Stupid library.

Makeover Makeover

Well it's not really a makeover. I did however succesfully makeover my side bar. You will now find more links, links to other blogtastic blogs by some of the very cool people I know. You will also find ever-changing links to the bands that I am currently in love with. The book section is still up and will be updated shortly with more great books to read. So attackrhinos can become your jump-off point for all kinds of online fun.

Also I want to give a big blog hug to everyone who has been posting comments lately. Thankyou so much! Comments are the food that the blog monster who lives in my head needs so he can feel creative and take control of my brain. Everyone who has posted a comment rocks, all of my other readers who have not still rock, just not as hard as those who took the time to post. Thank you all for reading. New Posts will come soon I promise.

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Whenever The First Leaf Falls, It Falls For You.

I do the buttons up and help you tie your scarf, the November winds carry a chill and you look cold.
We walk arm in arm in the twilight of fall, watching as the world turns gold and falls at our feet.

You burrow your head into my coat for warmth. Your hair smells like my memories, like the falls of our past.
A can dances down the street in rythm with the wind.
A gust of air flutters leaves up around our knees and then slowly settles them at our feet.

I look anxiously at my watch, and then down the road for the blue lights of the late night bus. This bus stop, this lonely corner at the top of the valley. The only spot where you can see love in the street lights; the curve and bend of the valley below cause the street lights to form a heart. There's no confusing it, as plain as day a heart, yet somehow I never saw it till you showed me. Since then it has become our heart.

Breaking our emrbrace I go to check the schedule and look at my watch one more time. You burrow in deeper when I return and remid me of the heart lights.

November is the coldest month, not cold in the way that a snowstorm in the middle of Decmber can be, but the coldest for your heart. The world around us dies and falls to pieces...the flowers and leaves that bloom so bright in the spring and so vibrant in the summer give a final flourish of life and color, then drift off into the seasons of our past. It doesn't matter how tightly I do up my scarf or what sweater I choose for warmth, Novemebr chills my heart. Its cruel winds snake into the saddest cracks in my heart and chill me to my core.

Every fall I look for beauty in the carpet of red and gold that rustles so softly under foot. A blanket of new colors for the often drab world, but it is fleeting and temporary. Soon the color fades and the trees look like skeletons. The wind will start to howl soon, a terrible empty wail when it has stripped the trees of all their life. Soon there will be no more quiet rustle of leaves, no gentle swaying in the wind, just the harsh whip of a cold Novemeber wind cutting through the days until the silence of winter falls like a heavy blanket on our heads.

I pull my hood down as far as it goes. Take one more look as the bus drives off and shiver as I lean into the wind for the walk home.