And then I'll have to think about Japanese. What a great way to start the day. Seriously, the proportion of my life that Japanese takes up--truly appalling. I wish it were some class I adored. Violin making or tea ceremony or cultural studies or some shit. Oh well. Did really well on my kanji test, not so well on the opt, and I fucking rocked the vocab, so it's not like my slaving away isn't paying off.
Jesus, though, everything's going crazy. I've got two mid-terms this week. I just signed up to start counceling for queer peers (hey, if you're gay and need advice, look me up, I'm fully equipped to talk you through it, whether or not my advice is sound is somewhat questionable...Winchester Brother Fucking being a favorite pastime of mine) and I got promoted in the freakin' library. I now outrank Juan who is just a "level two minion" as Will put it.
Funny anecdote of the hour: Echelon exists. Okay so, no. That's not the funny anecdote. But why god, did my Strat, Tech, and War professor have to drop that on me. We went through the whole intelligence community shebang, and it really scares me just how much governments don't think we, ordinary people, should have a stake in our lives. Also, I feel like they might be engineering hostile situations (by which I mean wars and missile testing and dropping spy planes out of the sky and all the rest) because, overwhelmingly, they have Y chromosomes and because they are bored.
Now for the long awaited funny anecdote! My professor had a friend who was an airforce pilot and they were moving a nuke across the country. For some reason they decided to paint the nuke green. And then put it on the plane next to the electrical heater. So they're flyin' along, halfway to California or whatever, when they notice the fucking bomb is smoking. Hooo shit. What you gonna do now, boys? So they call base and say, THE BOMB IS SMOKING, HOMYFUCKINGOD, WHATDOIDOWHATDOIDO? and Base says, STAY UP THERE, DON'T YOU DARE COME DOWN, AND POSSIBLY FLY OVER UTAH, BECAUSE WE WON'T MISS THEM ANYWAYS. So they're like flying around because they're not allowed to land because they have a smoking H-bomb on the plane, but you know, fuel isn't going to last forever. Well, maybe there is a god, because eventually when nothing happened base let them come down and they realized all along it was the electrical heater cooking the paint.
LESSON: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO MAKE WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION PRETTY.
Blah. So I'm kind of hysterical right now. And I can't sleep. And I really have to pee, but I'm too lazy to walk to the bathroom. I'm also sure I have single-handedly tried to revitilize English grammar with this one piece. I apologize for any and all weird commas and mixed up theres and yours and nos and whatever else in advance.
What's your funny anecdote, bitches? I bet you it's not as good as the time I got shot in the ass with an arrow by my cousin. So I sorta wish that was a lie, because dude--cousin, shot, and arrow, but at the same time I'm really glad it's not, because then I've a really fucked up story to tell. Best icebreaker ever.