How I spent my Saturday Vacation.

Words are used to describe weekends. Words like Relaxing, Exciting, Epic, Eventful. Today started out in that manner. Hardee's began the day. Hardee's, where it turns out, staff relations are not the strongest point of the training program. The girl at the register, after taking our orders into the computer, began to flip out because the register wouldn't clear. She turned to us, and casually informed us she could not complete our order till some manager came, then talked shit about the manager with her coworker, while also commenting on how half the staff spoke spanish and she didn't speak it for shit. All I wanted, was my hardee's cup, so that I could proceed to the Beverage Bar and get myself some diet coke, but no, we had to wait. Wait, and look at the biscuits, and fried chicken, and Thickburgers going out to happy drive through customers. Finally, the Mushroom and Swiss arrived to me, and I ate it happily, on my way to Davis Library to bust out learning like no other. Perhaps I should have prefaced this by saying instead of going to APO semiformal, as I never have, I instead went to Carolina Coffee shop and drank rum and coke's all night while talking to Dustin about key west and listening to a band play the Legend of Zelda theme on a sax and a piano. This was instigated by the ever-troublesome Jimmy, as I had no plans of going out, and instead wanted to sit at home, eat baby carrots, and wear my mesh carolina shorts. So, I went by wendy's and got a Spicy Chicken ($5.13), picked up the ever-slow Dude Searcy, and arrived at Lewis. Everyone took a miller high life of mine, and we walked. There was a Cover ($2), and made the mistake of ordering a beer on $2 highball night ($2.50). After this, I realized my error, and began to purchase rum and coke, (3 at $2, so $6). At this point, my cash reserves had been depleted. I don't run tabs with the debit card, because that is a recipe for disaster. So Mr. Searcy stepped up with the cash money, and the drinks flowed some more. We ended up crashing the formal, I yelled at Paul about the Power bill he hasn't paid me for then spillled beer on the pool table, and saw Dan at cosmic wearing a Ohio State hat; no reason given for that fasion faux pas. "Hush" by Deep Purple has quickly become a favorite song, and gives me the fire to go about studying on a weekend when the rest of chapel hill seems intent on burning shit and flipping cars (Duke game, for those of you not in the know). Hopefully, that is, seeing as the game hasn't happened yet. Davis today was not the productivity I had hoped for it; at one point, as I sat in my wooden stall on the 7th floor, wearing my headphones, stealing music from myTunes and reading the random skribblings on the back wall, I heard a sound I had never expected to hear in Davis Library, ever. Sex sounds? No, unfortunately not. Loud Farting? No, luckly not this either. It was the mornful sound of a child, crying and yelling its head off. Why, why why why would anyone ever take their youngass child to the 7th floor of Davis, and proceed to let it ball its eyes out? Crazyness ensued, and I took the time to go get a diet pepsi. Boom, another free song, I win again. It's to the point where I expect to win every time, Fuck the 1 in 3 shit. Perhaps the worst decision of the day was making the dinner choice of CiCi's. Damn that place, though I love it like a forbidden pleasure. The main problem with the place is this: everytime I go, the buffet layout prompts me to eat more than I should, and then the tempting dessert forces me to eat that as well. As is standard practice, I came home, hit the couch, and promptly slept till 11:30ish. I awoke to Chris making chocolate pudding in the kitchen, not a normal thing to see around 40H. At first, I scoffed at pudding; do I look like Bill Cosby? But then, later, after Paul returned and the idea had rattled around for a while inside my brain, out came the pudding, and we disposed of it quickly. Damn good it was. Here is an interesting concept: In hell, what kind of bullshit jobs will Satan be making people do? Not that I plan on going there, but in the off chance that I am fucked so bad I don't quite make it to the big house in the sky, I'm pretty positive that it will either be Hanging tobacco in a Tin Barn on a hotass August day, or working at the Union in the daytime with Mrs. Watkins as my direct supervisor, hung over, hungry for chinese food, with chapped lips and a TUCKED IN shirt. Let us be real for a moment, Who does't love Chinese food? Next week I am fucked, Have a good Sunday