Neural
If anyone wants to leave comments, criticism, dollar bills in my g-string (it's a comfort thing - cheapos, only a buck?), or links for me to see, you can now do so. I guess before the comments were set to Blogger members only, but I've changed that. If no one comments it then means that no one reads this and I've been shouting into a void *sob*.
Seriously Hitting Walls
First of all, Ive had four cups of coffee today. After a cup of espresso in the morning and two cups at lunch with my Aunt and Uncle, who were in the area today, I took a nap. So I needed another cup. Someone please counsel me ask to whether I need help or more coffee.
Second of all, that nap came in lieu of going to Music 3. This was because Music 3 today was devoted to listening to what people have composed so far. I figured that the only thing I could get out of going was my quiz back, which I know I got a 90 on. I don't need to hear someone else's composition (especially some kiss-ass's who has been working since day 1) to tell me that I need to work on mine. I already know what I'm doing anyway - figure out a basic beat, something with a lot of snare, and build a composition around sounds coming from any of four things - a) Doll's Polyphony from Akira b) Ichiro's singles (I need to find .wavs of these), c) Opera and d) Nine Inch Nails.
I don't need an email from the professor afterwards sent out to an indeterminate number of students that missed the class saying that because we had missed class today we had missed an opportunity to get his input and precious help, and that "because we had missed class, he can no longer help us". Help this, dude. *extends digit*. Now, I don't hate this professor. He's genuinely an amusing guy. But if he thinks that 60 people that are taking his class for a distrib requirement are going to show up midway through the term for critiques on a project that is due the last day of classes, I want to know what he's smoking. So I can call the cops and tell him he's cooking some whacked out mutant meth somewhere in Vermont.
I don't often get angry at professors. They're usually good people, sometimes less socially adjusted because they've been stuck inside a library for most of their life, but hey, I'm the same way to a large extent. But when they feel the need to amuse themselves and the rest of the class by picking on people that come to class two minutes late and by intimidating certain people repeatedly (that obviously don't enjoy it), I take issue. You're not supposed to entertain the majority of your students at the expense of individual members of the class. Now that I've gotten that out of the system, the weekend can begin. Play Ball
Tomorrow. Play Ball Tomorrow. Work Tonight. Yes . . .
There is not a game tonight. SMEAGOL IS FREEEEE
But tomorrow night . . . come to me . . . precioussss . . . if only you weren't broadcasted on Fox . . .
Open Door to the Bright Light of Day
Seriously Hitting Walls
First of all, Ive had four cups of coffee today. After a cup of espresso in the morning and two cups at lunch with my Aunt and Uncle, who were in the area today, I took a nap. So I needed another cup. Someone please counsel me ask to whether I need help or more coffee.
Second of all, that nap came in lieu of going to Music 3. This was because Music 3 today was devoted to listening to what people have composed so far. I figured that the only thing I could get out of going was my quiz back, which I know I got a 90 on. I don't need to hear someone else's composition (especially some kiss-ass's who has been working since day 1) to tell me that I need to work on mine. I already know what I'm doing anyway - figure out a basic beat, something with a lot of snare, and build a composition around sounds coming from any of four things - a) Doll's Polyphony from Akira b) Ichiro's singles (I need to find .wavs of these), c) Opera and d) Nine Inch Nails.
I don't need an email from the professor afterwards sent out to an indeterminate number of students that missed the class saying that because we had missed class today we had missed an opportunity to get his input and precious help, and that "because we had missed class, he can no longer help us". Help this, dude. *extends digit*. Now, I don't hate this professor. He's genuinely an amusing guy. But if he thinks that 60 people that are taking his class for a distrib requirement are going to show up midway through the term for critiques on a project that is due the last day of classes, I want to know what he's smoking. So I can call the cops and tell him he's cooking some whacked out mutant meth somewhere in Vermont.
I don't often get angry at professors. They're usually good people, sometimes less socially adjusted because they've been stuck inside a library for most of their life, but hey, I'm the same way to a large extent. But when they feel the need to amuse themselves and the rest of the class by picking on people that come to class two minutes late and by intimidating certain people repeatedly (that obviously don't enjoy it), I take issue. You're not supposed to entertain the majority of your students at the expense of individual members of the class. Now that I've gotten that out of the system, the weekend can begin. Play Ball
Tomorrow. Play Ball Tomorrow. Work Tonight. Yes . . .
There is not a game tonight. SMEAGOL IS FREEEEE
But tomorrow night . . . come to me . . . precioussss . . . if only you weren't broadcasted on Fox . . .
Open Door to the Bright Light of Day
posted by Satchmo | 4:48 PM
3 Comments:
Test. Comments Working?
Test 2. Comments still working?
I hate Fox, I hate Fox, I hate Foooox.
I hate Tim McCarver, I hate Tim McCarver, I hate Tim McCarrrrrver.
I hate Joe Buck, I hate Joe Buck, I hate Joe Buuuuuck, and he has a big forehead, and he's only a broadcaster because his dad was a great one, and he's employed by the Cardinals. So much for a facade of impartiality. Jackass.
I like Al Leiter though. He's the man.
Post a Comment
<< Home