So here it is ladies and gentlemen, another mildly entertaining post, from yours truly.

I recently finished my adventures through post secondary education, University if you will. Over the course of my education I learned a plethora of useless information, and a couple things that are likely to stick with me forever.  But lets start with the useless stuff first, it’s more fun anyways.
For example: the meniscus, and I’m not talking about your knees here.

I learned that, in order to pass certain classes, you need to:

a. show up,
b. buy their text book (which is, of course, written by the prof),
c. read 6 of 647 pages,
d. and finally, hand in one report detailing why that book was a bigger waste of money than paying for the class, which may have actually cost you brain cells, as well as roughly $75,345,899,834.

I have essentially spent the last 67 years in a school of some kind, and by 67 I mean 20.  I have learned a variety of wonderful things, 99.57% of which I will never use again, nor could I recall if I had to.  That being said, I can tell you all about the meniscus. No, not the piece of cartilage in your knee that everyone seems to tear.  I’m referring to that little bubble of liquid that forms at the top of your glass.  The very same one that forms when I have poured as much wine as humanly possible into it, before over flowing into your lap, or onto your brand new white shirt. Thank you 8th grade science, I’ll never forget you.

Here’s a short list of things I have never found a use for:

1. Raising my hand (Sorry Mrs. Jones)
2. Coloring inside the lines (Miss Mcewan – you tried, but those lines could never hold my colors)
3. Binomials (Miss Baltitude – this has yet to help me calculate my way out of any situation)
4. Trinomials (Again, not helping)
5. The Quadratic Equation (refer to points three and four)
6. Long Division (One word: Calculator)
7. The fur trade (I’m still not sure what happened here)

There’s plenty of room for more, feel free to add.

Now here’s a book that’s bound to get a child through school:

As for the important things, stay tuned while I try to figure those out.

Okay, so I know most of you out there reading this already know me.  But for those of you who don’t: I’m a 24 year old male, who is a few weeks away from (potentially) completing his never ending post secondary adventure.  I have been single for the majority of my life, and entirety of my adulthood.  So why, in the world of permanently single people, is Instagram showing me ads like this: 

Tinder bots. First off, thanks for being interested in my day, but its Friday, not Tuesday. I understand we’re all trying to make a living out here, but the least you could do is customize your opening messages to make a guy feel special.  Don’t even get me started on the punctuation issues here. Where are the capital letters? Have you ever heard of an apostrophe?! I’m sure you’re a wonderful Physical Therapist, with a budding career, and a glowing personality, but I think I’m going to pass on your tempting offer to sign up for “www.whoresnap.com”.

And finally, to conclude my Friday afternoon rant: Those of you who are complaining about being woken up by a text, or phone call, at 2 in the morning, they created SILENT for a reason, use it.

Yours truly,

Someone planning to call you at 2am. Repeatedly. Possibility inebriated. Or for his own general amusement.

If you’re heading into the weekend, dreading the next 2 weeks of exams and final papers, you can rest easy knowing you’re still better at life than I am.  At the VERY least, your luck is about 6,7859,282 times better than mine. Realistically speaking, my luck can only be compared to this guy right here —->

How does this shit happen. I mean really. You kind of joke about it with a friend, or maybe you’ve seen it in a movie or TV show, but real life?

I’m sitting at school working on a paper, decide to go grab some food  I figure, you know what, I’m gonna be a nice guy and grab my friend some food as well. She asks me to grab her a hot dog; ketchup, mustard, the works.  Sure, no problem, it’ll take an extra 30 seconds out of my day.

So I trek across campus (all 200 feet of it) to the only place that sells half decent food.  The kind of food that wont stop your heart after the first hobbit sized bite, or send you into cardiac arrest. I proceed to order my wrap, and her hot dog.  While I’m waiting for my food I see the girl, who’s supposed to be working the cash machine, run off with the box that is meant to hold the hot dog, totally normal… About a minute later she comes back, her co-worker hands me the box, and my wrap.

Head over to the condiments, open up the hot dog box and find a note written under the lid “Thanks for being hot <3” insert stupid smile on my face, then move about 2.6 seconds forward to the moment I’m about to put mustard on the hot dog, anddd BOOM. If you haven’t figured it out yet, that “BOOM” was  the sound of the mustard machine exploding. I may as well have showered in it.  Did I mention I was in a white shirt? Or that I was standing in the middle of the only restaurant (if you can call it that) in school?

I spent the next 6 hours walking around school looking like the neglected love child of the red and green Teletubby