I always knew his baldness was directly related to his Nazism

Well, they spelled his name wrong, but I'm glad he's dead. Never liked Letterman much anyway.

On a related note: I AM SO BORED IN THE SUMMER THAT ALL I DO NOW IS POST MILDLY AMUSING NEWS STORIES ON THIS BLOG. UGH.

A Tuesday Morning Limerick

The 'Tick is a blog delightful
with humour and chatter insightful
blessed with content anew
once in a moon blue
I hope this didn't sound spiteful.

I'm hoping to spread the word out
so we can continue to grow our nerd clout
it's time to keep blogging
our brains are all clogging
prescription: get some absurd out.

I know posts like this are so lame
so i've decided to make it a game
if you can't think of nothin'
instead of sittin and cussin,
why don't you try doing the same.

Two Hundred and Ninety posts in
There's gotta be something to win
"Dessert Tickets Jest"
a limerick contest!
first prize: a bottle of gin.

If we can't be the Blog that Keeps Thinkin'
At least be the ones who keep drinkin'
please keep them dirty
ribald, hurdy-gurdy
to save this old ship here from sinkin'

So come back right here to the tick
and send in your finest limerick
Y'all should have something to show
i've set the bar oh-so-low
and it's easy to rhyme about dicks.

Just start a new post like normal
click the link in the top right cornah
just try your best
in our silly contest test
you don't need to rewrite the mourner's.

Thanks to you for reading my rap
at times it was great, others: crap.
all i hope that i did
was appeal to your id
who doesn't love a poetic fap?

for gods sake

what with the return of midterms and all, comes with it the return of one of student-kind's worst curses: procrastination.

I'm in full swing, and it sucks. i'm working somewhat efficiently, don't get me wrong, but i am still wasting so much time.

see this? like a 75-word post, just so i can wait for californication to load.

Fuck.

oh, and in case anyone forgot, Milton: really damn good writer.

Curing loneliness with even more loneliness

Just over a year ago, I found a plastic card on the street. It was all black except for the words "EB GAMES" in big red type on the front. I put it in my wallet and assumed I would use it later. I had since forgotten about it.

Passing by an EB today, I remembered that the card had been taking up space in my pocket almost every day for the past year and a half, so I stopped in and asked how much money was on this dirty old gift card.

Turns out I've been carrying around a hundred bucks in video games for a year and a half.

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Since returning to the T-Dot from my formerly gregarious lifestyle of Maritime university friends and Quebecois high school friends, I've been able to literally feel the loneliness seep into my life. I recognize this feeling: I lie in bed until just after 12:00, I run the few errands I've set aside for that day, maybe perusing the city's many ludicrous fashion stores and revel in the disgust I can't help but feel when looking at mannequins wearing silly and colourful clothes worth more than my rent.

With any luck I'll start work soon, , but that won't fill the gap created upon leaving my cozy Halifax nook. Maybe I took for granted the ability to call any number of my friends and take the five-minute walk down to the Wardy for a $2.50 Keiths, but the knowledge that I could was what stripped me of the social void I fall into every summer.

That's what kills me: I know this feeling. Every summer, for as long as I can remember, I spend time alone in my basement, replaying old Zelda games, renting four movies a week, spending heinous amounts of time on Facebook. Wishing I could bring myself to read all the books I've been telling myself I ought to read, only to find that my copious lethargy makes me immune to sitting still and concentrating for longer than ten minute intervals. I get so clinically lazy that I can't bring myself to do something that requires any sort of disciplined investment.

I'm not depressed, just aimless.

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I bought six video games today, all used, sort of on a whim--short of buying Rock Band for absolutely no reason, I figured it was the best use of the hundred dollars. I could feel my summer degenerating into arthritis as he told me I had $15 remaining on the card.

This post turned out indulgently long only because I've literally nothing else to do. (I played two of the six games already; I'm just taking a break.)

Granted, I finished university a bit earlier than almost all of my friends; I anticipate the shared two-fours and Banquet Specials that will inevitably precede shouting "BRUUUUCE!" in a car to Manchester, TN. This summer will not be horrendous, and I know I have friends here.

Mostly, I'm just fucking bored.