April 11, 2004

It's a Very Naked Easter, Charlie Brown!

This weekend, the campus is is completely dead.

Scratch that.

This weekend, the entire town is completely dead. Not only has the school cafeteria been closed since Friday afternoon, not to open again until Monday breakfast, but the grocery store a few blocks from campus closed its doors Thursday night, not to reopen until 12:01 on Monday. The Pizza Hut and Dominos are closed for the weekend. The gas station across the street from my dorm is conspicuously empty, as well as the Taco Bell and KMart. The school's parking lots are mostly empty, save for a few miscellaneous beaters scattered throughout.

The hallways are completely dead. Bad rap songs used to permeate the air, but now, there's only the sound of my footsteps. I've taken to singing aloud the song in my head, and my voice is usually the only thing audible, save for the buzzing of the florescent lights. All the doors are closed, and the bathrooms stayed remarkably clean. There are no announcements over the loudspeaker saying that there's a pickup softball game or that they're showing "The Matrix" in the lobby yet again. The halls don't even smell like cheap pot anymore!

I have yet to see anyone this weekend. I'm not sure, but I think I'm the only person who's staying on campus for Easter Break.

I love it.

In other news, in the commercial for 13 Going on Thirty, they totally play a song about masturbation in the background. I am tres amusant.

Since I have the place all to myself, I've been unleashing my inner nudist. My roommate is singing at his church at home, and he won't be back until Monday morning at the earliest, and I've been letting it all hang out all weekend. I've even walked down to the bathrooms au natural without worry. Admittedly, it was 2 in the morning, but still. Naked naked naked!

I must say that all this time spent alone and naked is doing wonders to help me overcome my BDD. 6'1", 145 lbs, and regardless of what people say, I see flab. Yes, I know that I'm clinically underweight, but I don't really believe it. While I still see flab, at least I'm getting used to it.

Sorry guys, but I don't own a digital camera, so you'll have to use your imagination.
Here lies a most ridiculous raw youth, indulging himself in the literary graces that he once vowed to eschew. Now he just rocks out.