When I die and Bradley chooses to immortalize my literary genius by erecting a gilded naked statue of my lanky frame a la Michelangelo's David--I hope they plant it backwards, headfirst into the bullseye center of Olin Quad, facing Swords Hall, so all the financial witches in room 111 can kiss my brass-ass!!!!
If you can't tell by the sappy sarcasm it happened again--on Edgar Allan Poe's birthday no less!!!! My refund check which they TOLD ME was supposed to arrive today was delayed. "OOOPPPPPS. I'm sorry. You forgot to sign a release form."
WHAT!!!!!!!
Two weeks ago when I verified my financial status they assured me all was in check. Now.......
Shit, Swords Hall even called me the night of Feb 5th three years ago (my father died very early that morning) asking for my father's name, requesting a cordial alumni donation and I Bit My bottom lip so hard it bled down my cheek as I refrained my whiplash tongue from ushering out an I-ching of random vulgarities......
Shit, my grandmother even worked in Swords Hall...for 33 years!!!!!!!!
Oh well, now comes a trip to mama Bears to humble beg for a loan. Mom's been somewhat cool lately. she even showed my stupid lil' story to her co-workers and now they think her son's a total nymphomaniac..............
Ahhh....Life.......
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