ok, see i have a confession to make. no, it doesnt involve underage girls or a video camera, father, its something much worse. right now, right at this moment, i have two papers due in the next fourty eight hours. two. at twelve pages a pop, and about an hour of dicking around on facebook per page, thats a whole lotta writing. so instead of actually doing productive work, im blogging. welcome to the show.

understandably, the undergrad is not exactly poppin at eight in the morning. my first paper is due in exactly nine hours and im not worried one bit. hell, i wrote fifteen pages on The Godfather in six. something tells me that the economics of premarital cohabitation is not as much fun as visual analysis of violence in the greatest film of all time.

speaking of The Godfather, its common legend that, in order to play the role of Vito Corleone, Marlon Brando stuffed his cheeks with wads of cotton to pull off the necessary aura of The Don. this is a load of horseshit. i just had my wisdom teeth removed, and after having my cheeks stuffed with gauze for the past three days, i can tell you from experience that it doesnt make you all raspy or strike fear into the hearts of men. you can wave you hands around in the air and squint with beady eyes all you want, but without the voice, people will be refusing your offers left and right. theres no such thing as the co-tton don.

the only good thing really about having dental surgery is getting a brand spanking new bright orange plastic prescription bottle of Vicotin, addictive painkiller to the stars. this shit will fuck. you. up. i promise. theres a little sticker on the side that says so. ive been trying to get off it, especially cuz academic work usually requires clarity of thought in writing and not medicated ramble soup, but it just makes you feel so damn good. i could probably get off it if i really wanted, which means that ive just come into a supply of prescription drugs for recreational usage. not my bag, but nobody turns down a profitable opportunity. any takers?

two pages down, ten more to go. schweeeeet.

mobert out.