If Chuck Norris Laughs While Drinking Milk, He Accidentally Shits A Cow

This has been an eventful week, marked most notably by the inaugural practice of the official Registrar's Office bookstore team: Academic Smack. The name is derived from the fact that we talk a lot of shit and there's nothing you can do about it because we control your grades. My suggestion was The Harold Pace All-Stars Featuring Samuel L. Jackson and the SuperMegaTerrificHappyPartyFun Shooters of Justice, but I was unfortunately vetoed by a punch in the sternum. As I recall, the last time I played in Bookstore, my sole contribution was helping to boost Barry up to dunk, where he picturesquely grabbed the rim and was promptly depantsed by the opposing team. This is going to be awesome.

Since it is Spring Break and all the students are gone, I decided it was finally time for my triumphant return to Rolfs. I thought, hey, it's only been 5 months, I'm sure I'm still in pretty decent shape! What a terrible, terrible mistake. I went on Monday for chest/tris and a quick mile run, and am just now recovered to the point where I can put my jacket on in less than 15 minutes. I had to stuff about 200 envelopes Tuesday morning and it was pretty much the worst thing ever. You would not think stuffing 200 envelopes without being able to bend your elbows would be that hard, but it is. Or maybe you would think that. It's pretty obvious. The point is, who cares.

Apparently there is some St. Patty's Day shindiggery in glorious downtown South Bend this weekend, so I might head out for some of that revelry this evening. Or I might get a case of Guinness and sit down to some Boondock Saints--WHICH IS AWESOME--instead. We'll see.