No Midterms! However...

I don’t think I have any midterms this semester. I had a great deal of exams and large essays that felt like midterms a week or two ago, so I’d have to say midterms are going splendidly! I’m also not sure if these slacker prompts are supposed to be five hundred words, so I’m going to rattle on about other things for the next four hundred and thirty-six. First of all, who gave the o.k. for the cast of Twilight to put their handprints in the Hollywood forecourt at Grauman’s Chinese Theater!? Right next to the world’s most talented and iconic cinematic figures of the last ninety years! It’s a travesty! The only redeeming occurrence was the theater’s public statement noting that it would never allow any reality TV star his or her own signature block. This is probably in “The Situation’s” best interest because if they did, in fact, give him a place among the stars, I would have to save up my meager earnings over the next few months so as to afford a jackhammer with which to uproot his signature stone and drop it on his Versace sunglass-sporting, east-coast troglodyte head. A meteor cannot strike the Jersey Shore soon enough; the very existence of that tribe of sub-humans is evidence enough against any benevolent deity. Anyway, I went to Burt’s Tiki Lounge in Salt Lake recently to see one of the most legendary greaser rockabilly bands of all time, The Koffin Kats, and was very pleased with the atmosphere. Burt’s unashamedly embraces the fact that it is a complete dive, unlike the bars in Ogden, which unsuccessfully try to disguise the fact that they’re wretched holes in the wall. The best food, drinks, and company are always found in the most unsuspecting (and sometimes disgusting or frightening) places. If you see a biker covered in tattoos and barnacles in the entryway, you know you’re in for a good time. On the other hand, if you see a host of beige people grinning at one another through clean plate glass, it’s typically a good indicator that any points of interest are to be found elsewhere. On a somewhat related topic, I’ll be carrying around a jar with the words, “Cole’s motorcycle fund” scribbled across it, and I beg you all to drop any loose change in. Anyone who contributes shall see his or her name appearing under the “Special Thanks” heading in the credits of my documentary about America’s Native reservations (through which I plan to travel via motorcycle.) Anyway, I’ve run out of things to say, so tune in next time for another one of my vehement tirades; I’m sure there wont be a shortage of material in the upcoming week.