Honk if you heart construction

Readers as far back as Monday will recall that I mentioned the ongoing (read: ceaseless) construction that is going on in the Ypsilanti area. Apparently they’re replacing a water line or something of the sort that the city probably wouldn’t be doing unless it absolutely had to. Certainly the quality of Ypsi water has never been compromised:



A sensible person might be thinking, If I were the city and had to tear up the roads surrounding the University, I would do it before the Fall semester starts, you know, when the traffic of Ypsi doubles (Source: Lewon).

Clearly this isn’t the city’s view, which leads many to believe the City of Ypsilanti is totally insane and unpredictable, forcing its citizens to walk around with added caution, for fear that the city itself might jump out from behind any corner, causing people to shit their pants.

This construction has caused many problems, the most significant of which is my bumpy bikeride to class. Seeking to secure Washtenaw’s reputation as the slowest means of getting anywhere, the construction workers broke the water main on Perrin--some might say deliberately--spewing water, legos and Cheetohs everywhere. My house, as you might remember from the “Just enough information to track me down and hurt me” approach I’m apparently taking, is located on Washtenaw, so all this water business has resulted in multiple notices in the mail that look like this:



First off I appreciate the three day window, I love brushing my teeth with the ass-cold water from the fridge. Some of you might be wondering, “Just how cold is ass-cold?” It’s defined as approximately between “Tit bit nipply” and “Hot.” The unfortunate part of this lack of water is that it forced me to go to class the other day without showering, which was shortly after five. Fortunately, I’m in the Computer Science program, so nobody noticed because it’s been at least twice as long since they’ve bathed.

This semester I have five classes, four of which are COSC courses. This means Pray Harrold is my life, as per usual. And to make for an especially exciting time inside, all my CS classes meet in either room 302 or 303, a phenomenon of the program I have yet to understand. The other day I strayed out a bit and peeked into 304, but someone immediately yanked my arm out of its socket, just like that god damn babysitter oh so many years ago. Before the pain sensations reached me, I caught a glimpse of what appear to be some black Lazy Boy recliners in place of the crappy wooden chairs I’m accustomed to. I’m not sure what you have to major in to get in there, but it must be hard. Maybe even…dare I say…lofty?

No, no. That’s too far.

Wait.

Lofty.

Anyway, today I was heading to my Operating System Concepts (and no, it’s not as cool as it sounds) class, and was surprised when I noticed the professor hadn’t arrived yet. It was odd because, so far, he seems like quite the punctual guy. You see, as soon as someone whose late opens the door, he runs and punches them in face. I thought nothing of the fact that he wasn’t there and read a couple stories from the Echo. When an instructor other than the one I was expecting walked in, it hit me like a ton of bricks: I was fucking starving. I needed some M&Ms (official reference count: 1) When that passed, some 40 minutes, I realized I was in the wrong class. After I made a subtle announcement to a couple people of my mistake (it takes a bit to embarrass myself, as my mom can attest to…what?), I got up and found the right room, which of course was right next door.

Ok so that was a really weak ending to the paragraph, but this is my M&M (2), and I’ll put it in a can of Coke if I want to (which is delicious by the way—all the color is stripped off and what you’re left with is this white piece of heaven, similar to cocaine). To end, I’d like to answer an email I never received:

Joe Ballentino, from Southern California’s beautiful San Fernando Valley, writes:

Dear Peanut,

Didn’t you say something about not describing all the boring details of your life and promptly shooting yourself if this was crap?

Joe,

I did, I just can’t seem to get my hands on an assault weapon anymore.
(See http://www.easternecho.com/cgi-bin/story.cgi?3461 for what I think is an amusing response to a gun nut who wrote in protesting the Echo’s stance that the Assault Weapons Ban should be renewed)