We’re already on Week 5 of the semester, and now I’m forced to do real work, which is bullshit. Those movies about college told me college was this beer-soaked oasis where you “can really find yourself!” Well, somebody needs to tell Old Man Ward that we’re not finding ourselves by reading this 30-page scholarly journal article that’s written in four-point font. I’m not here to learn, dammit, I’m here to rock and roll!
Movie from your childhood that still kicks ass
“Heavyweights” (1995)—I’ve seen this movie multiple times, and all it does it make me hungry, which is probably the exact opposite feeling I should have in a movie about obese children going to a weight-loss camp. Still, that didn’t prevent me from thinking about food, which happens at least 25 times every hour. Take last week, for instance. I was hungry so I ordered food, and I couldn’t even wait 45 minutes for it; I had to eat these two slices of pizza to tide me over before the delivery guy arrived. It wasn’t good pizza either, it was like a week old, rubbery as shit and probably had 60 different strains of salmonella in it. You realize how disgusting that is, right? The things I would do for food. Dogs may be man’s best friend and all, but I’d trade good ol’ Buster to Michael Vick for a box of Cheez-Its right now.
Shit that salvages an otherwise shitty day
Going to the bathroom isn’t a particularly pleasant activity, but I can’t help but be pumped when I find an open handicapped stall in the bathroom. For some reason, while I know it’s wrong to park my car in a handicapped spot, I’ve deluded myself into thinking it’s perfectly fine to use the handicapped stall. In fact, I’d argue it’s necessary for longer-legged folks like myself to avoid regular stalls so as not to inadvertently start Senator Craiging up in someone’s business. I believe I found the holy grail of handicapped stalls at the Teacher Education building last week: a stall that is so big, it contains an armchair within the same space. I don’t really think that’s really useful given that the toilet is a seat within itself, but I’m oddly comforted by it as a reminder of my spacious surroundings. I could spend all day in that stall.
First-World Hate of the week
This week’s hate is reserved for people who hit “reply all” to emails you’re cc’d on. It’s one thing if you’re replying all to clarify something that pertains to everybody, but nearly all the reply alls I get are messages that truly only pertain to the original sender. In that case, why not just hit “reply” so everybody else doesn’t have to sift through that pointless email, as if our lives aren’t already saturated with enough pointless emails about whatever stupid election ASM is running. The worst kind of reply alls are the ones meant to congratulate somebody for their award/newborn kid/marriage. They usually consist of one-word responses saying “congrats,” and because one person got the reply all going, everybody else follows suit so they don’t look like a dick. The result is 30 emails in your inbox, all saying the same damn thing. Reply all is the spawn of Satan, I tell you.
Song that will make you wet your pants with excitement
“Fool in the Rain” (Led Zeppelin, 1979)—Guitarist Jimmy Page hooks you in with the opening samba-like groove, but it’s drummer John Bonham going absolutely berserk around the 2:30 mark that makes you keep listening. Bonham’s frenetic drum breakdown during the song’s intermission serves as a microcosm for how he lived his life: with total disregard for moderation. Thus, it came as little surprise that Bonham’s life was cut tragically short at age 32, when he died from alcohol asphyxiation after coroners estimated he consumed 40 shots of vodka during the day. He reportedly started off the morning at a bar and quickly downed FOUR QUADRUPLE VODKA shots. What bartender thinks it’s a good idea to serve that at 10 in the morning? Christ, even Monday’s draws the line at some point, and practically everyone in there is staggering around like “Walking Dead” extras by bar close. Anyway, it was a shame to see Bonham die so young, as it effectively spelled the end of one of the great rock bands of all time. But his legacy lives on in the iconic opening scene in “Freaks and Geeks,” with Jason Segel’s character offering perhaps the most appropriate eulogy: “Hey, I believe in God, man. I’ve seen him, I’ve felt his power. He plays drums for Led Zeppelin and his name is John Bonham, baby!”
Unedited moronoic facebook status from a kid from my high school
“maybe a 30 case will solve the problem”
Actually, that’s probably the more appropriate quote for John Bonham.
Remember to email awolf3@wisc.edu to share in Adam’s anger.
