Women's soccer is really, really interesting. Really.

My German Political Theory Professor: Yes, well, as we all know, the US Women’s World Cup soccer team lost last night, unfortunately. It is a shame, too, because I was really hoping for a US versus Germany final. By the way, Germany, of course, won.

Class: Boo!

MGPTP: Yeah, well, come on. You guys won the war.

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"Tase him again, bro."

Yeah, I know I don’t usually post images with my musings. But darn it, this one is just too good. My beloved school has gained national notoriety this week, except this time it doesn’t involve large black men wearing orange and blue.

Nope, we’re notorious for using tasers on people who resist arrest – violently – at political speeches. For those of you who haven’t seen the video I’ve seen, here it is .

Oh crap. You know what this means now, right?

That’s right: I have to live with a bunch of ill-informed, blind hippie children fighting back against the system for a few weeks. The mere fact that the university police used this nondeadly force on a student, never mind the fact that he was using profanity during the speech and refused to be forcibly removed by running and elbowing officers, has the stupid half of this campus up in arms. I’m not saying it’s like a modern day Kent State or anything, but I just know that I’ll have to be refusing new flyers and rally information outside of Turlington Hall for a good while now. And that irks me.

Listen, I’m all for disliking the police (link and link). But I respect them. And if they tell me to do something, I do it. And so should everyone else. End of story.

I kind of want to get a taser in case I ever meet this stupid sack of crap. And tell all of your long-haired, Alligator-reading, Krishna-eating, uniformly biased friends to look out, too.

Edit September 20 8:00PM: Does this count as my being published? Probably not, but I’m going to pretend it does. I would like to thank the Academy…

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Maybe it's just because we can relate

Hey, everyone over at Rotten Tomatoes. Yeah, you. And heck, everyone else on the Internet that seems to hate The Brothers Solomon: Screw you guys, it was a funny film.

Granted, not as genius as Superbad, but I doubt we will see many movies that compare in our lifetimes.

It’s a funny movie with a funny plot and, yes, good acting. In fact, I would say that the acting trumps all other aspects in this film in the humor category. It’s a far-fetched, fun movie. Will Arnett and Will forte paint a beautifully absurd picture of life as the Brothers Solomon, and if people are too stupid to see that, it’s their loss.

Funny enough though: when Ian and I saw the movie at 9:55 last night, we were the only ones in the theater. I would rather have it that way than to have the house packed with people who don’t appreciate the genius that we were able to see last night.

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Inevitable

We knew it was going to happen. We just didn’t know when.

Well, it happened.

Allow me to set the scene. Ian, in all of his fortunate goodness, was able to lease a (very nice) new Nissan Altima a few months ago. He kept his old jalopy of a Saturn so he could drive it to and fro while not accumulating miles on his new, fancy-shmancy car. This left me high and dry outside of the garage, which only has room enough for two cars. So, I have to park in the backmost portion of the driveway, leaving Ian to play musical cars to work his vehicle around mine, meandering into and out of the garage. I have no problem with parking where I do; it will be especially cool in the winter (no pun intended!) when ice forms on my windows.

We both agreed at the beginning of this system that my car was going to be hit. We didn’t know when it would happen, but we knew it was coming. It’s sort of like a far less interesting return of Jesus to Earth.

Sure enough, last night Ian took a page out of the book of my grandmother, whose two year old Mitsubishi Gallant has been wrecked no fewer than five times as a result of her not looking behind her when the backs up her car. He hit my front fender. No actual damage, though – just a good amount of paint that has found its way off of my bumper.

Interestingly enough, though, Ian was far more upset than I was. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so genuinely apologetic. It was kind of nice – I could get used to that. As for the car, it will be fixed in time; it’s really no big deal.

Until then, I’m parking in the street.

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I have no idea what I am going to do with my life.

As if it hasn’t been apparent for some time now to those that know me well, I have decided recently that my life lacks any direction. This became clear to me when I watched John Candy in Uncle Buck yesterday afternoon and realized that it is quite possible that I would end up like his character – irresponsible, poor, and reckless.

So, what do I do now? Part of me says that I should ignore this inevitability, embracing it as a beautiful alternative way of life. But then, the other 99 percent of me says that I need to buckle down and decide what I want to do with my life. Sure, it’s quite normal for people my age to not know what they are going to do for the rest of their lives, but it has become increasingly apparent to me that a lot of my friends at least know what they want to do with their lives.

All right, that has been established. I should decide what I like to do and build my career around that. Hm, are there any high-paying professions that involve sleeping until 11, sitting around my house watching television, and eating meals high in fat and calories?

Uh oh, I don’t think my political science major will be useful after all.

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