Still not too old

Today marks a very important day in my life, because it's the 365th-to-last day I'll be able to pawn car-renting responsibilities off on someone else.  I mean, obviously I'll still be lazy as balls and make other people do it for me years from now, but this is the last year I can do that without anyone suspecting I'm lazy as balls.

So eat my ass and rent me a car, turds.  I'm 24!

I'm even olderer

I'm getting pretty wise in my old age.  Wise and enigmatic.

For example, here are a few things I have tweeted recently:

Nobody likes you when you're 23.  Except the Twitterverse.  Follow me, bitches.

P.S.

I'm even older

I'm 22 now! Ugh. I'm a week late because I was too busy nostalgia-creeping on Sally's wall to be reminded of my birthday on my own.

In gym we had a health class about sugar. I murdered the sugar content quiz. Murdererrdr.

I'm older

I've been pretty busy obsessing over tournament stats and working on my rap career, so I haven't posted in a while, but today, I'm feeling philosophical.

Birthday. What is a birthday? A combination of two one-syllabled words, one a noun, and the other a noun that serves as an adjective. I like birthdays all right. But you know what I like more? Horsemeat. Nutrage. Spacedong. Those are some classy words.

One more classy word: shotgun. It's time for me to go do that to some shitty beer. Happy 21st, me!

Don't call it a comeback.

Mission: accomplished

I'm still uncomfortably headachey. That's right, bitches, it's been 24 hours plus a 3-hour practice. I do what I say and I say what I do. Plus, Dan cleaned the sink. I'm the man!

There's still puke in our sink

It smells like ass in there. Where's Connie? I'm not cleaning it up.

So far so good

I'm uncomfortably headachey. Also, someone puked in our sink last night. Ugh.

Tonight's itinerary

First, we're having a team meeting in the suite where we establish goals for next semester. I'm pumped because I might get to make a speech about committing to going to practice and getting in shape and kicking ass at Wilmington. I love making speeches.

Then, we're pregaming for the COÖP party in our suite. I'm gonna challenge Greg to a speed-drinking contest and make him eat my ass. He's gonna eat it hard, too, because I've been practicing shotgunning Natty Ices for months. I love hazing rookies.

Finally, we're going to Sari and Abby's for the COÖP party. I'm gonna get so hazardously shit-faced that I feel uncomfortably headachey for the next 24 hours. I love getting hazardously shit-faced.

What if your name was Fuckles?

That's it. I'm just wondering. What if? That'd be pretty crazy, right?

Take that

I am a mastermind of fake e-mail accounts, mass messaging, and redemptive blogging. Assuming Lili's the only one who was in on the creation of my own fake blog.... Eh, so what if she wasn't? I'm the fucking man. EAT MY ASS, LIL' GOOBER!!!

Bert only dates Zerglings. And the occasional Terran.

I'm back

Okay. I've come to terms with this whole imposter situation. For the most part. I even have a good idea of who said online doppelganger might be, and let me tell you -- I'm gonna prank the shit out of her.

Existential emergency

Shit, guys. I just discovered the weirdest thing. I'm at a complete loss for words (except for all the ones I'm about to say). Seriously, anything I've ever thought was weird and uncomfortable before? Completely fucking forgettable compared to this.

I have an imposter.

You read that right. Someone out there has been pretending to be me on the internet, and has been UPDATING A FAKE BLOG FROM MY PERSPECTIVE FOR AN ENTIRE MONTH.

What the-- what am I supposed to do?! I can't even think! This is insane. This is just...shit, it even has readers. The fucking thing has comments from my friends responding to my posts, but it's NOT FUCKING ME. Who does this? Who fucking knows this much about me?

I don't know whether to be flattered or freaked out. I guess I'm a little of both, I guess. No, a lot of both. I'm very flattered -- it's kind of like I'm famous or something, right? And I'm a whole fucking lot freaked out.

I'm not sure where to proceed from here. Do I ignore it? Do I keep updating my own blog in the hopes that my true friends will know I'm the real Gui? Do I just...stop? I still can't think. My blogosphere has been turned upside down. I need to go suck on a Ritter Sport and spit it out before I ingest too much sugar. Updates to follow.*

*Or are they? Who even knows anymore?!

Thanksgiving hiatus

Oh, last night ended up being kind of fun, I guess. We invited Eliza and Nathan and friends over and drank and played board games. I like being really belligerent about games until everyone else gives up and I win (see, the problem with Smash is that it's impossible to do that), so I'm in a good mood again. Happy Thanksgiving! See you after the break.

Day 3

UGH.

Nothing good is happening.

Day 2

People are going out again tonight. I give up. Falling asleep to LCD Soundsystem fucking blasting from my laptop is more entertaining than anything anyone else is doing.

The worst is all the lovely weather.

Day 1

It's already happening. I just found out I have to go to La Negrita tonight for what will definitely turn out to be a boring, unoriginal, and un-entertaining time. Drinking at bars with friends? That's all anyone could come up with? Fuck. Why do they even try?

This week is going to suck

Thanksgiving is on Thursday, which means everyone's going to be boring and stupid and waiting for Thanksgiving for the next three days. It's so lame. I guarantee you nothing fun will happen.

Okay, now I really need them to come back

Milo and I don't really know how to clean all this birthday aftermath up. We washed a pot to make Annie's Mac and Cheese today, but now it's dirty again, and so is everything else, and we're lost and confused and don't know what to do.

This looks exactly like it did 48 hours ago.

Vindication, motherfuckers

Not that I've been checking scores, but Yale just lost in the fourth quarter. Suck it, assholes! Eat my poop!

I've been abandoned

Bert, Lili, and Connie are all in New Haven watching the Harvard-Yale Game. Ugh. Who watches sports when the Denver Nuggets aren't involved? I hope Yale loses in the fourth quarter. That'll teach them for not inviting me to come along. Not that I would, because, again, who watches sports when the Denver Nuggets aren't involved?