Workin' for the Weekend... (part 2)

How goes it blogosphere? Sir Marcus here, back for part 2 (SCROLL DOWN FOR PART ONE).

So with my family having left for the weekend, it was time for me to settle down into something we've all been looking forward to since February: the beginning of pro football season. Not only am I a fan of the game, willing to watch just about anyone who's on TV, but fantasy football has given me a vested interest in most games that take place, whether it involves my favorite team or not. To date, I have five separate fantasy football teams, so I have players on most of the league's teams that I cheer for every week. Yes, it's stressful most of the time worrying about players in every single game, but at least this way, every game means something to me. Otherwise, games like yesterday's Ram/Seahawks showdown would be barely a blip on my gameday radar. 

Now, anyone who knows me knows how much I love football. But by the end of the night, NFL Opening Weekend took a backseat to something else that was going on that night: The 2009 MTV Video Music Awards. I originally had no intentions on watching the VMA's this year, but by the end of the night, anyone who missed it had missed out on quite the shitshow. Now, let me clarify this: when I say it was a shitshow, I mean it in a sorta complimentary way. It certainly wasnt a shitshow in a bad sense like the BET Awards 09 were. The BET Awards 09 were pretty damn terrible, and embarrassing to watch for the most part (which, in a way, makes them a perfect microcosm of the entire BET network). The VMAs last night were a shitshow, but an entertaining one at least, running its viewers thru a gamut of emotions like elation, confusion, anger, sorrow, and at times - at least for me - sheer terror. I'll explain.

The host for the evening was Russell Brand, who was hosting for the 2nd year in a row, I believe. I'll go on record by saying that I like Brand. His comedy is definitely not for everyone, as his jokes take quite a bit of time to develop, but he seems like a genuinely cool guy to hang out with. I don't think he's necessarily funny as a stand-up comedian, but I think we can all agree that his work in Forgetting Sarah Marshall was pretty solid. Anyways, last night, he seemed like he wasn't totally there. Maybe he was on drugs or something or maybe I just don't see him on T.V. enough, but something seemed a little off last night. He seemed to have a much easier time making us all uncomfortable than he did making us laugh. He generally rambled quite a bit, and I honestly thought he was ad-libbing all of his monologues, which isn't always a good thing. Not his best effort, in my humble opinion. 

The night opened with a very nice dance tribute to Michael Jackson, as a group of dancers performed routines to a a handful of his hits, concluding with a heartfelt cameo appearance by Janet Jackson to perform their hit collabo "Scream." Even if you don't particularly care for all of his music, this was a great moment to watch. Good for you to be able to bounce back like that Janet, good for you. Once the sentimentalities were outta the way, the night really took off.

As for the actual awards, only a select few really matter, and with that being said, we go right to the story of the night: Kanye West's outrageous stunt. If you haven't seen it yet, then you, my friend have missed the boat. We all know that Kanye is eccentric and outspoken, therefore making him prone to incredibly sad and perplexing moments (ask Mike Myers and George Bush), but last night, he might have finally earned himself the type of negative publicity that even a superstar of his stature may not be able to overcome. What did he do? Well, the category for "Video of the Year" came up and in somewhat of an upset, Taylor Swift came out as the winner over people like Beyonce and Lady Gaga (who would also be heard from on this night). So Taylor goes onto stage to accept her award and is about 10 seconds or so into when Kanye crashes the stage, takes the mic, and though he attempts to give her her just due, he goes on to say that basically Beyonce got robbed and that her video was one of best videos OF ALL TIME. Needless to say, the crowd began to boo mercilessly. Now I admit, I laughed when I saw it, not because it was funny in a comical sense, but because it was just so surreal and so vintage Kanye West, that I had to laugh at just how uncomfortable everyone was. 

The only real way to explain the subsequent expression of Taylor Swift,

 Beyonce, and everyone who watched this is COMPLETE AND UTTER SHOCK. He probably could have dropped an N-bomb on live TV and gotten less astonishment in return. Now, for the record, I agreed with him that Beyonce's video was much better than Taylor Swift's, but that, IN NO WAY, excuses his behavior. Sadly, this type of behavior isn't exactly outta the ordinary for Kanye, but again, this one has been met with the biggest backlash. For the rest of the night, just the mention of his name garnered a chorus of boos, and rightfully so.

Even in defending his friend, Kanye proved that he isn't above going out of his way to make his voice heard and no matter how big or small the venue or the company in the room, no prop or personality in any given room can even compare to the size of his ego. No one here is questioning his talent and his impact on modern-day music, but this was absolutely the wrong forum to express his sentiments. To have the gall to do something like that, damn the consequences, speaks to someone whose ego simply cannot be placated enough. There was no reason to get on stage and steal Taylor's moment from her like that, especially since she's still a teenager who was experiencing her first moment in the glory of the VMA's. No, a VMA is not a Grammy award, but if she hasn't won one of those yet, they probably aren't far behind either. Rumors have it that she could be seen backstage broken down in tears by quite a few people, which obviously makes the story that much sadder. By all accounts, Taylor is an absolute sweetheart who was just happy to be there and mentioned in the same breath as the other people in her category, so when she won, it should have been a moment that she could treasure and keep forever. Well, from hence forth, she'll definitely remember the moment, but not for the right reasons. Just an absolutely astonishing lack of respect for the moment and the process shown by Mr. West. 

Kanye's power move set facebook and twitter afire with passionate music fans (ESPECIALLY those of Taylor Swift) and other celebrities calling for his head. Pink wrote "Kanye West is the biggest piece of shit on earth. Quote me" (Katy Perry also had something like that to say, but as she's beginning to find out, people care less and less by the day what she says, so her quote doesn't matter).  Many pop-culture bloggers and fans have gone as far as to say that they will never again contribute a dollar to any of his music or projects and they are no longer gonna even listen to any of his music. While I can't exactly co-sign those kinda rash statements, I certainly understand the general disgust people have towards his stunt. It was embarrassing to not only fans of his, but fans of music in general, and - considering that Lil Mama later did something similar - yes, black people as well. Yes, I said it, and I know I'm not the only African-American that feels that way, but that's another issue for another day. 

After Kanye's outburst (and subsequent removal from the building)

 though, there was plenty more to talk about from the VMA's. First of all, can we talk about

how truly bizarre an individual Lady Gaga is? PLEASE?!?!?!?!?!? I mean, the woman

 showed up to the red carpet with KERMIT THE FUCKING FROG as her date (though now that I think about it, that was weird, but still pretty awesome). Her performance was so incredibly eerie that I could not find the words to properly convey my thoughts on it. At one point, fake blood poured from her costume and she was then raised by rope to about 20 feet off the stage, where she ended the performance dangled above her backup dancers. I legitimately thought that maybe she was hanging herself for a hot second there. Throughout the evening, it seemed that she was somehow in a different outfit every time the camera caught glimpse of her. When she won the award for "Best New Artist," she came onstage wearing a see-through red dress, complete with a mask and what I'm gonna just refer to as an asshat . I never know what to really say when I see her. Hermaphrodite rumors aside, she is just THAT weird. That being said, I believe this must have been what it was like to see Madonna when she first hit the scene

 and if that's the case, then we may be seeing this woman become an icon right in front of us. Say what you will about her music, but you can't argue with her creativity and ability to make sure that no two performances of hers are the same. You're very creepy Gaga, but at least you're keeping things interesting.

The night also saw a flying trapeze performance by Pink, who deserves kudos just for being able to concentrate on singing whilst she flew all over the stage. During her set, I mentally prepared myself to see her fall from her rope and harness, but luckily, the fall never came. I don't think I could ever see something like that happen and just shake it off anyways. I would be terrified to ever watch anyone on a rope ever again. 

All night, folks had been wondering where Jay-Z was. When the time for his performance came, he did indeed show up, and he and Alicia Keys performed a very good rendition of their song "Empire State of Mind." However, the end of the song was ruined when Keys and Jay-Z struck a pose and then had their stage crashed by Lil Mama - Yes, THAT Lil Mama, the assclown from America's Best Dance Crew - who could not have possibly been invited to that stage. The look on Jay-Z's face said it all, as if you ever see the picture, you'll see that he - like the rest of us - had to have been disgusted. It's one thing for Kanye West to do this sorta thing, he's musically relevant. But Lil Mama hasn't been the least bit musically relevant since that damn "Lip Gloss" song came out like 3 or 4 years ago. Her music career isnt strong enough on its own to withstand the sorta backlash that she may have brought on herself. Did she think it would be funny? It wasn't. It was possibly as absurd as Kanye's stunt, but she won't be talked about as much because she doesn't matter. I've already used too many words on her. 

After that debacle, however, we got a moment that, at the very least, rivals the Janet Jackson moment from earlier in the show. When Beyonce won for "Female Video of the Year," instead of giving yet another monotonous, blah blah blah speech for an award that she's certainly got plenty of back at her home, she brought Taylor Swift to allow her to have her moment in the sun after all. If you weren't a Beyonce fan before that, then you certainly were when she did it, as it was the epitome of classy and gracious. This showing by Beyonce was as classy and touching as Kanye's was selfish and ridiculous. What a truly poignant moment. 

And that, my friends, wraps up my take on the 2009 VMA's. There were many ups and downs, but it was very entertaining and at the end of the day, that's all we can really ask. Kanye West may end up coming to regret the timing of his outburst, but at least it's provided us with something to talk about for years to come. Until next time, this is Sir Marcus T. Williams signing off... Yall take care now. 

Workin' for the Weekend... (part 1)

How ya livin, blogosphere? Sir Marcus back here

WOW, what a weekend. This weekend was Family Weekend at MU, which also coincided with NFL Opening Weekend, but by the end of it, they both surprisingly had a bit of competition with the shitshow that was the MTV Video Music Awards 09. So much going on, so much to say about what went on; so much that I'll hafta relay the information in two installments. Let's get right to part one.

Last week seemed so long, partly because the workload of an 18-hour class schedule is starting to build up quite a bit, but mostly because I was pregnant with anticipation for Family Weekend and the impending arrival of my brothers and my cousin. See blogosphanatics, my family almost never gets to come out here. As of this weekend, my younger bro Nate has now been here 4 times since I got here in 2006, my cousin James twice, and my older brother Ricky - Yes, as in Ricky Williams, insert joke here - once. I was excited to show them my newest residence and show them a decent time while they were here.

They arrived on Friday afternoon around 2:30ish and we immediately went out for lunch on the town. After watching the 3 of them scarf down Applebee's like they hadn't eaten for days, we returned to my place to get them settled in. They met my main man Ryno, and then Gossip Girl stopped by for a little bit to get a taste of the Brothers Williams Plus One's group dynamic. I was glad to see that they all liked each other and that it wouldn't be weird, just in case she returned at any point over the weekend.

Next, we took a trip to the Rec Center for a lil' b-ball action. Unfortunately, none of them even brought any shoes that were appropriate for basketballing, so I had to lend Ricky and James some of my more worn-out shoes. Since they had already weathered many a storm, the black-on-black Nikes Ricky wore made it thru the day, but the black-on-black Adidas that James wore could not say the same. James has boats for feet (14's) and though I also have somewhat big feet (12's), even my shoes seemed nothing more than a cruel joke when on his feet. The only things in more pain than James' ankles during Rec time were my shoes that he was wearing, as we all had to watch them as they began what would turn into a slow, painful death that afternoon. They looked as if they might explode at any minute; as Nate so poignantly put it - James looked as if he were out there running the court in "Ballin Slippers." They'll simply never be the same again. R.I.P. Black Adidas.

We didn't fare too well out on the court that afternoon, but hey, it was more about the experience than anything. We returned to the house for some quick showers and adult beverages for Ricky, then headed off to the marquee event of the evening - bowling. Three of us are good-ish at bowling; the other one is not, but his identity is not of importance. The three of us that are good went in hard - PAUSE - for 2 games before conceding defeat to fatigue early in the 3rd game. I came in a close 3rd both of the games that mattered. You see, I'm a power bowler, known to be able to get my ball to reach speeds upwards of 21-22 mph. However, I have yet to really harness this power into a more controlled bowling stroke, which oftens leads to many frames in which I hit alotta pins, but few in which I get strikes (but also few gutters, I might add). Anyone who has ever been bowling with me can attest to the fact that I get MORE than my fair share of frames in which I only knock down 9/10 pins, even when I know and the pins themselves - though they'll never admit to it - know that it should be a strike. I simply will not debate this point.

After officially calling it quits on bowling, we returned to the house around 12:30ish to rest up for what would be a long day on Saturday. Well, I should say, THEY got to rest up. While I would have loved to get some sleep, this goal became far too ambitious for me to achieve because I decided to sleep on the floor next to the air mattress where James slept. Poor form, Sir. James snores quite a bit and quite loudly so, I think I may have gotten 3 hours of sleep. I kept getting up to turn on the dryer to try to drown out the slumbering giant next to me, but I'm pretty sure I heard him snore out "NEGROOOOO PLEEEEEEAAASE,"at one point and only slept louder from then on. Not even making that up. I only got any sleep at all because I finally had to tell him to go sleep in my room on the floor so that he and Ricky could tag-team to snore the paint off the walls in my room, but leave me to get some sleep outside the room on my own.

After being awoken shortly after that (I think it was about 7:30), we sat around for a few hours as Ricky began what would be a day-long slow drinking binge. Never drunk but always drinking, he was pouring drinks down his gullet whenever the opportunity arose. After showering, we then ventured onto campus for brunch at the Plaza 900 dining hall. They were in love. For some reason, Nate ate right before we left so he didnt eat a whole lot, but James and Ricky set out to prove that the previous afternoon's Applebee's performance was just a small hint of what they could do with unlimited food resources. Between the readily available food and the parade of college-age women, Ricky dubbed it "the best cafeteria experience he'd ever had." That made me proud.

We then went down to the bookstore for a short tour of the merchandise mecca that is the MU Bookstore on gamedays. That place is crazy on gamedays, and though it temporarily deterred him, Nate ended up perservering through it and buying himself 2 Mizzou t-shirts. Next, we went to Mizzou Arena so that I could try to get them tickets to the game that night. Ricky had been adamant all weekend that if the only seats available were the overflow grass seats, then he would just as soon not go, especially since he knew the USC/Ohio State game would be on shortly after ours started anyways. When I got the the arena and was told that those wear indeed the only seats left, I was dismayed that my family would not be able to go to the game. In hindsight, i realize that I should have just tried to buy tickets online when I found out they were coming out here, but also in my defense, when I picked up my student tickets at the Arena, I was told to come back there to get general admission tickets ON GAMEDAY, so I figured that I wouldn't be able to get them at all until then. But now we know.

But it's probably no big deal that they couldnt go to the game because Nate and James took naps when we got home, while Ricky and I watched some football. Gossip Girl came around for her 2nd appearance of the weekend and to her credit, endured some pretty relentless grief about her beloved ND Fighting Irish. She's about as passionate a female football fan I've ever met. I'll admit that though her passion for football can be a bit too tense at times, it's also one of the reasons we can hang out so much. Having partaken in a few adult beverages herself, she let me drive us to the game - an adventure all its own - because we had already paid for the tickets, so we might as well go, right? I realize that this decision to go without my family was an ethical gray area, but Ricky gave me his blessing to go and James/Nate didn't really care anyways.

It's a good thing Ricky didn't go to the game. Though we ended up pulling out a close game against the Falcons of Bowling Green (who I maintain are a much better team than people think), I can also admit that MU didn't play particularly well and Ricky's constant reminders of such would have irritated me to no end. Gossip Girl and I left at halftime so I could get back and spend time with my family, who were leaving in the morning. We decided to go out to dinner, but before that, we spent a lil time at the house talking, dancing around, and generally acting like assclowns. The photo evidence of said events is sure to hit the web any day now.

After bidding adieu to Gossip Girl, we hit the Macaroni Grill, where we preceded to eat ourselves into a stupor. I cannot think of any meal in my recent memory that hit and held the way this one did; we were completely stuffed and borderline immobile when we were done. We did somehow make it back to the house, but were completely useless for anything but sleep. Having learned my lesson from the night before, I quickly sacked out on the air mattress outside of my room, which removed all doubt from James as to where he would be sleeping from the beginning of that night. It was only about 11 or so, but having been up since 7:30, there was no way we could do anything else that didn't require us to be in at least a reclined position.

We woke up fairly early-ish the next morning around 8:30 or 9, and after bullshitting for awhile, the 3 of them showered, grabbed a lil food for the road, loaded up the rental car, said their goodbyes, and headed out to return to the KC airport. The "family" part of the weekend was now in the books and had been a relatively big success, but little did I know, the weekend still had quite a bit more to offer me.....

Stay tuned for part 2, blogoteers.

Health Scare

What it does blogosphere? Sir Marcus here

Fuckin' swine flu, man.

Recently, the gf - from hence forth referred to as "Sweetness" - has been complaining about not feeling very well, especially when she's not around me. Come to think of it, for the duration of our acquaintance with one another, she has been saying that she's been sick. But when she comes to see me, she doesn't complain much besides of it being cold at my place, something I dismiss as pretty normal, considering that I legitimately think that frigid is the default temperature setting in the house.

This morning, Sweetness broke the news to me that she has indeed contracted the dreaded swine flu. Granted, the stigma and terror that was attached to swine flu when it first hit the world are no longer nearly as profound, but still, it's certainly not good news. It's one of those things that you always think is just something out there but you'll never really come into personal contact with - a la SARS, Mad Cow disease, or bird flu during their respective reigns of terror. But, because we are a mutually-consenting adult couple who occasionally engage in consenting adult activity, I have literally come to up-close-and-personal contact with the beast. I mean, chances are that she certainly didn't pick it up just in the drive from my place back to hers, but chances are also that if she's been sick for awhile and I still haven't picked up any symptoms yet, then I may have dodged this bullet already and her case isn't one that can't probably be resolved with a little rest, relaxation, and Tylenol. That's certainly the hope that I have anyways, but it would be greatly appreciated if you would keep the both of us in your prayers for the time being, because even if I'm physically fine, she obviously isn't, and I only consider myself as healthy as she is.

Until next time, stay tuned my friends. This is Sir Marcus T. Williams signing off... Yall take care now.

As-Yet-Unnamed-Blog

How's it goin blogosphere? Sir Marcus here

Damn, it's been almost 2 weeks since we last spoke; where the fuck did the month of August go? I've been dropping the ball, I know. Because of that, today's post will be quick hits about the goings on and observations of the past week and a half or so.

- That Old English class I mentioned was probably the worst mistake I've ever made in my career as a student. By the 3rd day, I was COMPLETELY lost in what was going on; I mean, that shit was wack. So I was left with no choice but to drop that sumbitch from my schedule and replace it with sumthin alot less impossible-to-comprehend. 

- Remember when I was raving about how much I liked working at the bookstore? That was then, this is now: I can't wait to NOT work there anymore. Luckily, Friday is my last day. Why the change of heart, you ask? Since I wrote Textbook Temps, at least half of the people who were working there with me have finished their temp. obligations to the bookstore, leaving only a handful of us, spread out over random intermittent periods of the day, to do the trivial, infinitely-less interesting tasks around the store in the post-Early Bird periods of dormancy known as EVERY OTHER DAY OF SCHOOL. But don't fret, blogoteers. If you subscribe to the idea that God has a sense of humor, then you - like me - can take solace in the fact that at least Cathy is amongst the handful of us still working there. 

- Only Michael Jackson could die and instantly gain back all the sympathy in the world, as if the last 10-15 years of his life never happened. Since he died, it's been two months of nonstop,  borderline-unnecessary further probing, a phrase that had an entirely different meaning while Jacko was still alive (wait, too soon?). Somehow it's been determined that it was his doctor's fault and the case has therefore been ruled a homicide. CNN can't stop talking about it for some reason. Say what you will about his last few years, but the one thing no one can argue about Jacko is that he could get people talking. 

- On a much more serious note: it's football season, BITCH. 

- Recently, I've been learning things about some of my friends that have come completely outta nowhere. Yes, I'm TALKING ABOUT YOU, GOSSIP GIRL. I'm not exactly at liberty to discuss these things, but consider my mind blown. 

- We don't have HBO at Gateway and I've been missing the recent episodes of Hung and Entourage. I don't appreciate this. If anyone has any suggestions as to how we remedy this situation, I'm all ears. Not even joking a lil bit. 

- Got a girlfriend (and have had her for the last month). Don't know why that hasn't come up yet, but now you know. More on this later.

- I STILL havent figured out how to switch my MU email account over to the Outlook thing that they we're supposed to switch over to. I feel like a dumbass cuz it never seems to work for me, but it can't be as hard as I'm making it seem, right? I would also appreciate some help on this front.

- Cheesecake is still where it's at, but this isn't news to anyone. 

- When is this Ed Hardy/Affliction t-shirt fad gonna be over? (If I know you and you wear one of these, don't take this personally; I don't necessarily associate you with them all, but these shirts are UNQUESTIONABLY the preferred attire of douchebags and tools all over America.)

- Remember when facebook chat was cool? Yea, me neither.

- I got a new phone last week to replace the one I had had for quite awhile. Not that the old one was, but it had started to give me some grief. You ever had a phone that just stopped acknowledging the charger that you plugged it into, thus nullifying you even having a charger, thus FURTHER nullifying you even having a phone? If so, then you, my friend, have met your match, because the only ways to solve this issue are to either A) order and wait for a new phone or B) toss ur newly-dubbed P.O.S. phone into the nearest body of water at ur earliest convenience and try to convince ur friends that the recession has forced you into trying to bring back ACTUAL mail. You may think that there's nothing worse than not having ur cellphone in this day and age, but anyone who still owns a Razor would beg to differ. 

- Yall remember that entry I wrote about the shit that's on T.V. these days (see Sir Marcus on Television)? One of the girls from Rock of Love recently got her own show. Well, I should say ANOTHER one of the girls from R.O.L. got her own show. I can't believe how easy it is for apparently just any random girl to get onto T.V. This particular girl - Megan Nobodywillcarebytheendofthissentence - has "cashed in" on her 15 minutes of fame by not only competing on R.O.L., but also competing on the "all-star" spinoff show "I Love Money." THEN, she competed on "I Love Money 2." Clearly, she was setting a precedent for what would indeed become the premise of her own spinoff show, "Megan Wants a Millionaire." I wish I were making that up. But I implore you blogosphere to stop shaking your head in disgust just long enough for me to tell you the real reason I brought this up. Megan's show was pulled from the T.V. airwaves because of a slight mishap involving one of the contestants on her show. It's no big deal really, but apparently some guy who was on there was wanted for murder. To be a lil more specific, for the killing and dismembering of the body of supermodel Jasmine Fiore. he was labeled as a "person of interest" for about a week until apparently the pressure got to him and he was found dead of an apparent suicide this past weekend. SMH. I repeat, HER SHOW - which had no business being on TV in the 1st place - HAS BEEN PULLED BECAUSE ONE OF THE CONTESTANTS KILLED AND DISMEMBERED A YOUNG WOMAN AND THEN FOLLOWED THAT UP BY KILLING HIMSELF. I'm just gonna let that marinate. 

- The worst part is that we all just know that Megan isn't upset about the two people that died and the subsequent grief that both of those families now hafta face; she's most likely just upset that her 15 minutes have been cut short prematurely. I don't mean to judge the girl without knowing her personally, but the only Megan I can pretend to know is the one that has been chasing money for her entire "acting" career. Anyone who's ever witnessed her on any of these shows knows that unfortunately, I'm probably right. Sorry, but when you appear on the shows that she's appeared on, you forfeit your rights to any benefits-of-the-doubt. 

Despite the somber note that we ended on here, it was fun sharing with the world again. Until next time, this is Sir Marcus T. Williams signing off.... Yall take care now.

First Day Observations

How you livin, blogosphere? Sir Marcus here; 

So I always look forward to the beginning of the school year because it's an opportunity to finally see who's gonna be in your respective classes and whether or not said classes are gonna be any good. That all being said, is it just me or did the 1st day of school just sneak up on us this year? That sumbitch came outta nowhere. I mean, maybe it was because I've been working at the bookstore quite a bit as of late, but I turned around and it was right there staring me down. Well meet my eyeline, opening day, game on. 

I'm also pretty sure that classes normally start on Tuesdays but this year they started on Monday, so today is part 2 of the first day of school. What I mean is that obviously in college, we don't normally have the same classes on two consecutive days. So yesterday we fulfilled our Monday/Wednesday/Friday slate of classes, and today we do the Tuesday/Thursday ones. 

As for yesterday's classes, things went fairly well. Well, relatively well. Well, I guess it could have been worse; at least I made it to all of my first day classes for the first time in my college career. I kicked off my 4th year of undergraduate work at MU with back-to-back 4000 level English classes, which were 19th Century American Literature (which thus far emanates much more of a history class vibe) and then Old English. Naturally, the Old English class ended up being a little more than I bargained for, as I thought it was more like the jargon in which Shakespeare penned his plays, but as it turns out, it's not that simple. It's gonna end up being more like the ancient Norse, Anglo-Saxon mumbo jumbo seen here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_English. Not only do we hafta read this shit, but we're gonna hafta learn to speak it for various presentations in class (it stands to be mentioned that the phonetic sounds of the alphabet that we use in English now mean next to nothing when being employed in Old English context). When we found this out, the only sound in the room was that of the collective OH SHIT that coursed through our heads, kinda like what you were just thinking, blogosphere. 

But more important than the old Norse language that will most certainly become lost in translation over the course of the semester, I would like to address a phenomena that is becoming increasingly more prominent in classrooms these days. It happened to me in all 3 classes yesterday and I DONT LIKE IT! For years, it's been an unwritten rule of first-day etiquette that teachers should just barely introduce the course (and for non-large lecture classes, maybe a short icebreaker type of exercise) and then allow the students to get out and be on their merry way; the past has taught me that I can go into class allowing the professor 20 minutes, but anything more than that is just greedy. But suddenly, more and more teachers are leaning in the direction of keeping class for the entire allotted time frame of the class, even on the first day, even if it means they hafta employ obvious bullshit-for-time techniques like READING THROUGH THEIR ENTIRE SYLLABI. Why is this happening? For instance, my 19th Century American Lit. class was kept in class for 15 mins longer than necessary as our professor was clearly trying to single-handedly keep this trend alive, reaching around trying to come up with things to talk about. He was like "Ummmmm....... soooooo, how many of you see author names on the syllabus that you don't exactly recognize?" Ummm sir, considering the length of the average century, odds are that in a class featuring works from writers of just one particular century, there will be a couple of names that come up that we all haven't become completely acquainted with; I call B.S. on that question. He then showed off some versatility, moving onto geography: Okay, so ummmmm..... who in here is from Missouri? Where in Missouri? North? South? East? West?..... Oh yea? Emily Dickinson is from Massachusetts, but outside of Massachusetts, I believe Missouri has the richest literary history in the United States. That's nice I suppose, but not only do I not really believe you, but even if I did, I would be less inclined to do so today because you brought it up outta nowhere on THE FIRST DAY OF CLASS, meaning that you sir, are clearly stalling. Stop embarrassing yourself. 

He did end up letting us out 5 minutes early (after conceding defeat to the aforementioned first-day rule), but the trend for the day had been set. I got another dip in the bullshit-for-time pool in the Old English class when, after the obligatory icebreaker go-around-the-classroom-and-tell-your-name/major/something-you-did-this-summer exercise, the teacher decided it was time to pass out an Old English poem, read through it, and invoke the clause in every professor's contract that say they hafta ask if we recognize/don't recognize any words in the text in front of us, essentially killing another ten minutes of the time that we could be spending walking out of the building and towards our next destinations. The next thing I knew, the class was balls-deep in another handout about Old English and the various components of the human vocal apparatus (mouth, throat, lips, uvula, etc) that would hafta be used to correctly pronunciate the words, another 10 minutes had gone by, and I was now looking at something else that has become a huge pet peeve of mine: I was gonna be late for my next class. As I was telling Gossip Girl yesterday, I fucking HATE being late for anything, especially for classes, especially when I'm late for a no good reason such as a teacher keeping class the entire time (and then some) on the first day of class; It's a dick move, and ya HATE to see it. Compounding the issue was the fact that for the class I was currently in, I had already had to go outta my way to a remote side of campus where there are no true classroom buildings, and for the class after it, I would hafta go back to the polar opposite side of campus. We have 10 minutes in between classes and I'm a known power-walker, but even I couldn't walk that fast. When my Old English professor finally hit the mute button on her mouth, it was 11:53 and I now had 7 minutes to complete what was realistically probably a 15 minute walk; I arrived at the next class at 12:06, and again, that's only because I walk faster than most. Here's a tip for all professors: one sure-fire easy way to get students (or this particular student, anyways) to dislike you is to bullshit so much as to keep them for the entire 50 minutes of class and then overflow into the allotted 10 minute transmission period, especially if they have a long trek to embark on to their next class anyways. Repeated offenses will not be conducive to a very healthy or working relationship for the semester; you have ben warned. 

The next class was for Leisurely Studies (the irony of me hustling to this particular class was, of course, not lost on me) and because I got there late, I arrived to a packed house. My ire towards the Old English professor only grew once I saw this, but I just found a seat in the back of the lecture and tried to sit down without bringing too much attention to myself. I sat next to a cute, friendly girl in the back row and now added the worry about being the late, foul-smelling guy to the other issues of the day; no one wants to be that guy. Once again, this class ended up staying most of the 50 minutes, though it wasn't completely the professor's fault. He was given some help from another one of the many tools of class time-prolonging, the-asks-too-many-questions guy/girl. There's always one of these kids in class. In this particular case, it was a girl. It's no secret that when a teacher asks "are there any questions?", that's the cue for students that class is about to wrap up. But, that one particular student always has to ask a question and prevent class from being let out for the duration of the the question/answer conversation. This can prolong class by 15-20 minutes sometimes. I'm convinced that teachers plant these people in their lecture crowds, that way if/when students inevitably complain about being held in class too long on the 1st day (like me), they can just deflect the blame onto someone else in the class asking alotta questions; I will not argue this point. I will allow these people to ask one question just outta curiosity, but anything after that is excessive. So these types of students need be stopped because they are only contributing to a growing trend of keeping students too long on opening day, and that means ur only hurting urself, honey.

Anyways, those are just some of my burning thoughts on the nuances of first-day classes. There are certainly many more than that, but those are the ones that I came across head-on yesterday, and I wanted to share them with you all, because sharing is caring, right? 

Until next time, this is Sir Marcus T. Williams signing off.... Yall take care now. 

Textbook Temps: Doin' Work

Whats really good blogosphere, Sir Marcus again here

It's been quite awhile people, let's catch up for a bit, huh? 

So I've now been working as a temp at the bookstore for about a month and I gotta say, I really don't hate it at all. I work with a really solid stable of other students; every day we're definitely growing more and more comfortable around each other. The store has been getting progressively more busy over the past few days or so as students begin moving onto campus and picking up their books, so alot of us have been logging a few more hours than we used to, but it's not even that bad because the time doesn't drag like it did in the beginning. I legitimately can't say that there's anyone there that I completely dislike. Well, then again....

There is one person who comes close: this girl named Cathy.  You ever meet someone so painfully unaware of their annoyance that you dread having to see them everyday? I SWEAR whoever created the phrase "being a Chatty Cathy" did so after an unfortunate run-in with her. Long story short, the girl talks too damn much. I seriously wish we had never made acquaintances. I mean, don't get me wrong, she means well, but that's simply not enough to get you in the door. I hate getting there in the mornings and seeing her cuz she always greets me like "MARCUUUUSSS! How are you?" It's hard to convey tone and voice inflection via blog, but she always emotes these greetings with a slight pang of enthusiasm that implies to everyone else the sense that perhaps me and her are good friends; Don't be fooled, innocent bystanders. SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO not friends. 

Don't think this is just me bitching about sumthin as trivial as a hello; I wish that were the extent of the damage. There is a foul stench that follows her around. Not only does it follow her wherever she goes, it PRECEEDS her as well; that's some next-level shit. You aint supposed to smell someone coming around the corner. But, did I mention that she NEVER STOPS TALKING? Cathy, when  you're speaking and not only are people allowing your random, completely un-fascinating statements to fall on deaf ears, but you also notice that the people you're speaking to are going out of their way to NOT make eye contact with you, then that's a pretty solid indication that you are officially engaged in a one-way conversation and that it is time to call it a day on trying to talk to them. And I literally mean call it a day; I would like to not participate in AT LEAST the rest of that day's dialogues, not just the one you're force-feeding us this hour, mmkay?

Not only that, but she never lets the rest of us temps forget that she has been working at MU's bookstore (as a temp) for the past 6 or 7 semesters. Because of this fact, from time to time, she tends to carry herself with an air of confidence that seems to suggest that she is somehow above the rest of us and carries some odd, unofficial sense of authority that I seriously doubt has ever been officially bestowed upon her. The great irony in this is that, of all of the temps working there, though she has a little more knowledge about the workings of our system (which should be expected, given how long she's professed to have been working there - me and some of the guys have dubbed her a "Permanent Temp" for her seemingly hopeless chances of ever being promoted to anything higher than what we are now), she seems to be the worst at doing the relatively simple jobs that we're given. For instance, we're now passing out Early Bird textbook reservations, but before that we had to actually go around with student schedules and choose the corresponding books to fill those Early Bird orders. We had to initial the bottom of the pages to denote who filled what order and those order forms go in the box with the books. So as we've been passing and sorting the Early Bird orders with the students this week, Cathy has been bragging about how few mistakes she makes on the forms that she did. And if you're willing to discount all the mistakes she ACTUALLY makes on the forms she does, then she absolutely doesn't make mistakes. I've found myself taken aback by how bad her order forms are when they come up in my boxes some days. I mean DAMN, Cathy; are you just grabbing books blindly out there? Get your head outta ur ass, please, we have orders to fill. But do you guys know what the worst thing about Cathy? That throughout my writing of this blog, somewhere Cathy is with someone else and STILL IS NOT DONE TALKING. Tis a pity, I say.

But all Cathyness aside, the job is pretty damn cool. I mean, being on ur feet all day isn't great, but the chemistry being built with my coworkers is terrific. We get to interact with people of our age group everyday and our superiors are generally pretty easygoing on us. We joke around quite a bit so there aren't very many dull moments throughout the day when we have brief respites from work, which is a far cry from the early days of the job, where we would all stand/sit around in slightly awkward silence during our down time. I'm certainly not meaning to sit here and wax poetic about the subtle intricacies and overly rewarding qualities of the job. I'm fully aware that at the end of the day, I'm only a temporary textbook stocker; nothing more, nothing less. But, when you legitimately like being around the same group of people day in and day out - which is no small task, as there are 40+ temps working there right now, which doesnt even account for the people who work there year-round - then getting up to go toil in the same tedium and minutiae everyday really doesn't seem so bad. It certainly isn't the worst job I've had in recent memory; I can genuinely say that I hope to brought back to work there again come Christmas season and the advent of the next semester. 

So that seems like a good place to close out the day's rant. it's been good sharing with yall again. In the meantime, this is Sir Marcus T. Williams signing off, yall take care now. 

A good way to have fun at the expense of the guy sitting next to you

Hello bloggies, Gossip Girl here. Okay, so maybe I'm not really Gossip Girl, just a gossip enthusiast filling in for my good friend Marcus. And now that I am back in my favorite college town, it's time to resume my favorite college activities including DRINKING GAMES. My new favorite game entails taking shots depending on how douchey the guy next to you is. Let's not lie, the guy sitting next to you is probably somewhat douchey, especially if you are in college. We all know the douche species, trolling bars and the occasional house party looking for the next lady to share his bed for the night. Warning:  because a large percentage of guys in college seem to possess that douche gene, you should probably not be surprised if this game gets you incredibly drunk incredibly fast. After that intense description, the only thing left to do is layout the rules.

(I'm not going to lie, the rules of this game are similar to Chandler Bing's game of CUPS, as in you pretty much make things up as you see fit. Having said that, here are some general guidelines for you to get started.)

1. Drink one (1) if the guy is wearing Ed Hardy, Affliction, knock-off Ed Hardy, knock-off Affliction, or more than one polo with the collar popped. 

2. Drink one (1) if the guy is wearing white sunglasses, shutter glasses, or a visor worn upside down and to the side. 

3. Drink two (2) if the guy is wearing any items in rule 1 in addition to any items in rule 2. 

4. Drink one (1) if the guy uses the words "dude", "bro" or "brah" multiple times in one minute.

5. Drink one (1) if the guy talks about how "frat" he is.

6. Drink two (2) if the guy asks you to feel his bicep or talks about how gnarly his workout was.

7. Drink three (3) if the guy possess any of the above traits AND is surrounded by an army of douchettes. 

And finally, 8. Drink as many as you find necessary to block out the doucheyness of the BRO sitting next to you. 

Have fun! Off to find more gossip and invent more games.

XOXO, Not Marcus