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1:32 a.m. - 2008-04-26
A HIPPIE FAILS TO SEE HIS SHADOW

So it's a Friday night, and I'm sitting in the basement of the library reading Judith Butler's The Lesbian Phallus and you know starting to feel bad for being as contented with the situation as I am. Have I crossed the line from endearing dorkitude into 'MTV Made-style' nerddom? ("This week on Made, we transform NYU student Britt from a four-eyed blog-geek into the hottest legging-wearing clubrat in town!") I was concerned, and briefly considered bolting out of the library for the nearest bar, taking several jello shots, and giving the crowd a quick table dance. Fortunately, before I did so, I decided to take a quick pee, and discovered this:

Someone has transcribed the entirety of Andrew Marvel's poem To His Coy Mistress onto the side of the bathroom stall.

I mean, really? Andrew Marvel? You took the time to graffiti a (really rather long) poem onto the wall, and that's the one you picked? You know, I can't even decide which lines of this poem I hate the most.

Is it this?

"...I would
Love you ten years before the Flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews."

Because, you know, it might be this:

"The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace."

Honestly, it's probably this:

"Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,"

I guess it just goes to show, no matter how low you think you've sunk, there's always someone left to deride. On the other hand, I'm now scanning and analyzing Andrew Marvel bathroom graffiti in the basement of the library on a Friday night. Fuck.

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Just stepped out for a smoke and overheard this:

"and my mom was all like "waaaaaahhhh!" and I was like, "oh my god, we have to take her to the hospital" and my dad was all like "whatever Susan".

I feel better about myself now.

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Oh, and because I said I would, for those of you who do not know what rickrolling is, it is when you are reading the internet and you come across something like this:

"Scientist now believe that that life certainly exists on other planets."

And you click. And that happens.

This is a meme that is funny to me, but I was not terribly invested in until I saw this:

Mets Get Rickrolled

Amazing.

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In other news, it is officially spring. The sun is shining, and the birds are probably singing, but I can't hear them over the damned bongos being played in Washington Square Park. Around here, we don't rely on anything as silly as a groundhog to predict the coming of spring. Rather, we mark the change of season with an annual event known as the Running of the Hippies. Their behavior patterns are closely monitored throughout the year, and it is a truly remarkable phenomenon. On the first day of spring they all, en masse, awake from their winter hibernation, dust off their bongos and hula hoops, and gather around the fountain to engage in joyful celebration. It's not unlike the pagan ritual of Ostara. (Btw, I stongly recommend you spend a little time with that webpage I linked to. You will not regret it.)


CNN headline(s) of the day:

First the Man Cave, Then Crossdressing
Baby Walker's Gun Message?

Your moment of Pravda:

Man lives a normal life with a still heart
(I particularly like the part where this phenomenon is compared with having only one testicle.)

-Britt

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