Idiocy!

Before delving into my eventful day, I'd like to take the time to recount my goals for Fall Break, as promised in my previous post:

-upload every compact disc in this house onto my computer in preparation for my radio show
-write my ACS paper
-formulate a thesis for my English paper
-do Math
-go to Franklin Mills Mall
-harrass Dr. Hensel at Neshaminy Homecoming
-buy, play, and complete The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass

I can safely say, after 6 full days off, that I have accomplished...

...

...

NOTHING!!! (To quote an imaginative independent film)

Or at least close to nothing.
Most of those goals I haven't even started. Did I prepare for my show? No. Did I write my ACS (Augustine Culture Seminar) paper? No. Did I start my English paper? No. Did I do Math? Yes! --but not all of my Math homework. Screw Franklin Mills, Homecoming didn't happen yet, and I bought and played some Zelda, but I have not completed it yet. Yet, as a self proclaimed idiot, I did not begin to worry that I have done none of these goals, but rather, I added more goals! Believe it or not, I went to the DMV for a Permit Test-taking adventure yesterday!

About an hour or so after lunch yesterday, my brother walked in and said, "Alright, I'm going to the DMV to get my liscense picture retaken. You're coming with me to take the permit test."

"I haven't read the book yet," I replied.
"Read it in the car," he suggested.

Okay, I thought. I grabbed the preparation book and hopped into the mini van. During the ten minute ride, I flipped through the pages. Hmm, okay, don't run over children. Don't honk your horn at bike riders for fun. Don't shoot an officer if he pulls you over.

"You know you're going to fail this test," my mother reassured me from the driver's seat. "This is just a waste of time, and you know it."
I'll show you! Okay, okay, green means go. You will die if you drink and drive. I think I get it.

We arrive at the DMV and my brother wanders over to the picture area. I pick a number from the machine, sort of like the system they use at the deli, where you wait for your number to be called. My number is 823. The electronic board says 944. What the hell? I pick another number: 824. If they're already past us, why can't I just keep picking numbers until I get up to 945? Seems like a good idea to me. My mother doesn't let me, though. We sit down, and my mother looks through the book a bit. She discovers that I need a physical before I can take the test. Fuck it, I think, let's just fill in the doctor's signature. That's not illegal or anything. So this story ends anticlimatically, as I didn't even take the test that I studied so hard for. Those bastards are being racist against cripples, not letting me get my permit. My rights are being violated! However, those complaints are quelled when we go to 7-11 on the way home, and I get a coke slurpee and hot pretzel. Good stuff.

But really, enough about yesterday. As my good friend Roger likes to say, "Yesterday is just a nice memory. I never think about yesterday." I woke up this morning at around 10, tumbled down the stairs, turned on my computer, and looked at the Smash Bros. update. Little Mac? Assist Trophy? Pretty cool, but I had a thought. Wouldn't he be a good candidate as a playable character for a fighting game, since, you know, he comes from a fighting series to begin with? Oh well, whatever. My brother leaves for Villanova early today to do some work (Ha!), and my mother leaves to meet with her sister in Flemington, so I'm left alone for the middle part of the day. Luckily, my loving mom made me some lunch before she left.

Lunch:
She cooked me up some Chicken Fries, which I proceeded to dip in ranch dressing as I watched Drew Carey run the Game Show of my childhood. The chicken was pretty good, much like Drew's hosting capabilities, but they are a farcry from the mastery of chicken held by one Colonel Taso. To furthur the comparison between Drew Carey and my chicken lunch, Bob Barker is the game show equivalent of Colonel Taso. "Oh Bob Barker, your show so good!" However, for one to expect Carey to seamlessly fill Bob's shoes would be foolish. He's done a good job for such a daunting task (like the chicken!).

The rest of the day, I did...

...

... (I hope you see where this is going)

NOTHING!!! (So let's just jump to dinner, shall we?)

Dinner:
For a grand supper, we as a family decided to dine at a fine establishment we like to call Red Robin. It was awesome. I had a chocolate milkshake and French Onion Soup for starters, both of which were delectable. Surprisingly enough, one Mr. Chamberlain and his wife were sitting at a table right next to ours, and sure enough, Chamby came over and embraced me with stories about how his classes suck without the Breadman. Chamby really is awesome.

For the main course, I had a cheeseburger, medium rare, American cheese, and Mayonaise (no ketchup, herpemeisters!). It was quite delicious, if I do say so myself. Upon the dinner conversation came up my sister's less than stellar score on a Geometry exam. She got a 73. Being the cocky Mathemagician that I am, I proclaimed that I would have aced the test. My level headed brother soon interjected, telling me that geometry is the most memorization-based math, and that I could not possibly do well on it, seeing as I haven't taken geometry for four, five years. Ha! I said to this. I bet you five dollars that I can get a better score than Susan on this test, cold and unprepared. And so it was set. Susan is to retrieve a copy of the test from Varrell, her teacher, and also an old Maple Point friend of mine, and I am to take it tomorrow afternoon, in a fifty minute time allotment. She will then take it back and have my former Algebra teacher grade it. Let's be perfectly honest, people, if I can't scrape past a 73 on something so old hat as geometry, than am I really a mathemagician? I'll prove you wrong, Jon. You will be regretting this bet.

-Professor Nesto