Half is me

Check it – I’m updating another blog along with my roommates Max and Kevin, specifically geared towards the happenings in and around my current residence, a.k.a. Thugz Mansion. It is bound to be a source of entertainment for all ages, but mostly for the ages that are allowed to use swears. It will function as a reminder for our future selves of our antics, perhaps becoming a centerpiece of conversations relating our semester spent in South Central L.A., or in the worst case, as a reminder to our loved ones of our corporal existences should the “Thug Lyfe” get the better of us, serving as a sort of digital tombstone proclaiming for all the see the folly of Max, Kevin, and Freddie.

You can find it here: http://thugzmanse.blogspot.com

Because there are three people writing for this one, expect more updates than this piece of crap!

Coming back to college is always an awkward affair, especially when it comes to people who you weren’t really close friends with. I was at one of our cafeterias on the first day of school today and I saw a girl I sort of knew from down the hall in between bites of stale California roll.

What the HELL are you supposed to do in this situation?

Do you go up to the person awkwardly and be like “Hey how are you doing remember me we established a speaking relationship last year, oh man how was your summer?” This can only end badly for both parties because if “speaking relationship” was the farthest you got, then who gave you the right to escalate that to “interrupt the process of deciding upon a Starbucks’ coffee product in line relationship?” Surely, such gall is simply unacceptable in this day and age.

Kevin told me that he would talk to people he barely knew, and couldn’t get out of the situation without appearing to be an ass. Some girl he barely knew confronted him somehow and they got to talking. He was late to class, but was unable to tear himself away from what essentially amounted to a conversation with someone whose first name he barely remembered. They talked about their summers for what must’ve been an eternity, because nothing makes time drag out longer than a stupid conversation you’ve had before a million times.

This brings me to a tangentially related point – if there’s one thing I hate more than anything else, it’s when people ask “How was your summer?”

What the HELL are you supposed to answer in this situation?

More importantly – what the HELL does the person asking the question expect, besides a curt two-word answer, maximum, before the conversation shifts to other small talk? Do they want you to pull them aside and give them an hour long discussion of all the intricacies of the events of the last three months since you’ve last met? What would they do if it absolutely sucked? Do they change the subject quickly? Do they talk about their summer?

Man forget it. I’m tired of coming up with lame responses to an even lamer question, and I bet you all are too, so I did something about it. Here’s a great little tool to deal with all the tools who ask you that question:

Presenting! The “How was your summer” Magic 8-Ball! Click on it to get a whole variety of various responses to the world’s dumbest question! Next time someone asks you how your summer was, use this handy application to respond!

-f.w.