1-900-2-COMPTON

It's hard to maintain a balance between being a college douche and a crafty douche. Rather, I haven't really made much of anything since getting here, and I really don't foresee any changes. I mean, one day last week I just sat down and, in the space of about four hours, put together my key-wallet-chain. It's pretty epic - I added some neat found objects to make it more interesting - but I still haven't gotten off my ass to take pictures. Even though I could get off my ass to take about a billion pictures of Gregor so he could find a good one to send in along with his West Point application. (Obviously it's not the one to the right.)

I did, however, take some pretty rad photos at Hampton Beach last week, while Jen was making mad cash by hitting up primate lovers. She made almost thirty bucks in the space of a couple hours, which makes me want to buy an animal suit and dance around on street corners. The only real deterrent (aside from creepy men who mistake you for jailbait boys and make offers for five-dollar buttsex) is the threat of being accosted by a group of horny furries. How's that for a nightmare? I'm no ho; I don't yiff for cash.

Had my first noodie model in figure drawing (pictures to follow sometime), and have come to the conclusion that being in that building makes me have to crap real bad. Both my room and my hair need a cleaning. I'm thinking about buying the Old Spice body spray to "match" my soap and deodorant.