On Labor day morning, I try my best to savor the last day of freedom I have before I tackle 20 academic credits, which translates to roughly 7 classes. Daddy calls and asks me what my study schedule for the day is, and I tell him that I am studying rather intensely at the moment and don't really have time for these kinds of ridiculous questions. He seems satisfied with that response.
On this morning, I also decide that I will not be writing about or posting pictures of my roommates on this blog because I am far too young to have charges pressed against me. And really, I'd rather have Jamie Lynn Spears's boyfriend pressed against me. The rest of the hall, however, is fair game. I've already picked out the ones that I will be showering with. And while we shower, I can use my phone to take pictures through a tiny hole in the curtain. And if they ask what I am doing, I will say that my girlfriend is being a little bitch and she won't stop calling me. They will relate to that.
And while I watch the hot ones intensely, I have begun to notice their idiosyncrasies (i.e. clues that point towards homosexuality). For example, guys that pee in the stall when there are urinals available. This can only mean a few things. One, your penis is tiny. Two, your penis is gifuckingnormous. Three, you are a big queer. So I'm hoping number three is true. And I am possibly hoping number two is true too.