The jokes just keep on coming...

This whole "all the boy bands everywhere from all time were molested" thing just gets me and makes me think:

1) The Backstreet Boys had to put out to get down.

2) Same as with the Michael Jackson trial, would a prosecutor ask if it was larger than life?

Posted out and it's the weekend...

I'm posted out. The only material I have in my back-pocket is a long-ass post, and I've just been invited out for drinks, so that shit's going to have to wait through my usual Saturday hiatus till Sunday or whatever.

That said, I've been asking people all day if they know that Nick Carter was molested because of the casting room couch for boy bands, and when I tell them to google "Nick Carter molested New York Post", I don't mention anything about how fat the guy who molested him is, leaving them to be even more repelled by the story. The few people who googled it still had horrified expressions on their faces when I ran into them later, but I figure it's their own impulses punishing them and creating the horror, kind of like that one goldfish-in-a-blender art exhibit from a few years ago (loved it, some of the best modern art I've ever heard of).

Nick Carter was molested.

There was a casting room couch for boy bands.

Germs / Germans.

Today in my Hebrew Bible lecture class I was two minutes late to class, so instead of sitting with my friends towards the front, I had to slip in a desk next to this undergrad, a mousey-haired thing with a clunky wood-bead necklace and a couple ornate silver rings on her fingers. Within two seconds of my settling in, she started pulling out snotty tissues and blowing her nose in them, and then she started to chew with her mouth open the gum that she had been chewing with her mouth closed, and I could just feel the mouth germs floating everywhere. She also leaned her head into her hands a few times, like she was thinking, "I'm so sick, why did I ever come to class?" The entire class I leaned as far away from her as I could.

I guess like last week some grad students were sitting around talking about how when they were kids during the summer their parents used to send them to camp to get rid of them, and this one German ph.d. student who was with them got pale and sat back in his chair and gulped and was like, "Camp?!?"

Close one, farting.

I was sitting outside the main library enjoying the last of the day's sun and having a coffee and a donut and doing some language homework, when a friend passed by and we ended up talking. After she left, I farted, and I felt something slip out, though after I finished up my homework and went to check, a couple probes of toilet paper between my ass cheeks turned up clean, fortunately.

The three times you can sleep with a college freshman:

1) When you're a high school senior.
2) When you're a college freshman.
3) When you're tenured.

Chapped.

My lips have been chapped this week, so I've been bitching, since I can't remember the last time they were chapped and it just annoys the fuck out of me. However, like two days ago, for some reason my chic black t-shirt was rubbing my nipples and chafing them and causing them to get hard which made them get chafed even more, so that put my chapped lips in perspective, especially when I took off my t-shirt and my nipples were sore and slightly hard and a bright red like a new sunburn.