The Week of Blame, Season Finale: I Blame My Brain Randal!

You know, at 2:44AM my mind was racing with all sorts of wonderous things to write, and here I am barely keeping my eyes open at work. My classes are over, for the semester-which-flew-yet-I-thought-would-never-end, on an extremely uncharismatic note. Let's just say that I will never again forget about cauchy sequences... a little too late and I missed the last day in my two favorite classes to swap out with Mr. Bee, so we could nurse our Baby Bee who had to stay home from school.

It's done. Except for finals. Oh yeah, those. I have delusions of grandiosely acing my final in Real (as we in teh biz call Real Analysis) and changing my professor's mind about pitying me, so I can truly be done with all my classes (oh, the yearning) and take Creative Writing or some other wonderously liberal artsy class. Acting, Painting for Dummies, even Tennis. Anything, but Real, though there are parts of me which would like to actually have the chance to go through the class knowing what the fuck's going on. Shut up. I don't think they'll let you graduate a second before you utterly loathe school and are convinced you are an idiot. It's kinda like being pregnant. Yes, you'll reach term. Yes, your baby could come, but will it by those standards? No. It will not come out until you are so utterly fecund that you cannot stand another day. I just hope I have proven my worthiness. I think my professor saw in my exhaustion yesterday that she needed to pass me for the sake of my sanity. But, she won't. She can't. I didn't let her. For that, I blame my brain.

On the way to giving a presentation on Tuesday... a play came to mind. A brilliant, funny play. I don't know shit about plays, but I'm going to write one it seems. When I had all summer to write my autobiographical indictment of all things furry, did I do it? Of course not. But, I was so in the mood this past month. You know me now, right? I'm not a fan of the Murphy's Law Philosophy. It's too perky.

So, it is far more apropos than I ever could have planned that The Week of Blame come to an end here and now.

I shall do something so long overdue, there is not even any evidence left that I am telling the truth. It's ok. I'm used to it. Liberality gave me this award...

Liberality, thank you. As soon as I get home today I am going to draw this award on my walls, so I can cherish it forever until we move next month.

I'd like to pass it on to The Lass. If there were ever a naughty monkey left in my house with a bunch of paints to write a masterpeice, I would name it Lass and take it on a brisk and giddy walk. I long for that day. (Next Wednesday?)

This one-hour long season finale (brought to you by Metamucil™) will not be complete until this fat lady sings, so hold yer horses. Just when he thought it was safe. Just when he thought he had sent a meme to where it was born to die, I hath resurrected Teh Legend of Randal 30 years later.

(Amended) Rules and Regulations:
1. Post your list of the seven best albums, the blogger you will tag, a copy of these rules, and a link back to this page.
2. The person tagged will put a URL to their Blogger Album Project post along with a list of the seven best albums in the comment section here. (Very cool- Go look.)
3. Feel free to post the “I Contributed to the Blogger Album Project” Award Graphic on your sidebar, along with a link back to this page (where you can see the original rules).
4. Post a link back to the blogger who tagged you.
5. Sorry, no Manilow.

Here are mine:
1. Ween, The Mollusk
2. The Flaming Lips, The Soft Bulletin
3. The Black Angels, Passover
4. Elliot Smith, New Moon
5. R.E.M., Life's Rich Pageant
6. The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers
7. LCD Soundsystem, The Sound of Silver
I tag Splotchy

Y finalmente, to wrap up this season finale, I would like to thank the gorgeous Utah Savage, My Future Sugar Mama, for offering this award and her oh so preciously raw thoughts on a platter day in and day out. I hope you know I loved you (before you had me beheaded).

I would like to pass this award on to the deliciously subversive Katie Schwartz.

Thank you for tuning in and please return to your regularly scheduled shit™ (a subsidary of Metamucil™) which, in addition to its bountiful benefits, may produce the following side effects:
uncontrollable erections in IKEA, a loss of appetite for prunes, a feeling of sleepiness when I snap my fingers, an overwhelming urge to watch The Mentalist, the sloughing off of hair when combined with razor contact, suicide by blog, an irresistible attraction to neurotic women with glasses and the pseudononymous initials FB, the sudden adoption of cute puppies, a delayed procrastinatory urge, not limited to or excluding the death of unmentionable ego attachment-related constipation.


La Belette Rouge said...

I think you ought to have put the side effects up front and in larger and bolder letters.;-)

Randal Graves said...

You're like that weird chick in class, weird in the most groovetastic sense, who is working on a different level than the rest of us poor shlubs.

When I grow up, I wanna write posts like you. As long as the side effects don't include projectile vomiting and C-Span at 3am as I'm fresh out of diazepam.

darkblack said...

Frankly, I would opine that your creative writing skills don't need a brush with the tender mercies of a post-secondary brain-embiggining...This might be seen as akin to Heisenberg taking remedial Physics.

As for blaming Randal...Well, certainly. No doubt his penchant for mischief will express itself momentarily.


Anonymous said...

Oooh! A prize! A prize!!! Thank you and yes to Wednesday.

Anonymous said...

Oooh! A prize! A prize!!! Thank you and yes to Wednesday.

enc said...

Congratulations! It's about time you got some payoff. You work hard, F.B.

Liberality said...

like the other's say: you are such a groovy chick!

Utah Savage said...

I wear glasses honey.

Utah Savage said...

And I too have started blaming everything on Randal.

Splotchy said...

Zoiks, okay, I'm on this album thingy. This might not be easy.

dguzman said...

I knew it was all Randal's fault, but I'm no tattle-tale. Glad you figured it out.