In the interest of time and because I am not too into Everything is Illuminated so far I've resorted to blogging on the train. That, and I just like how it sounds just enough like that classic Milli Vanilli jam.
This past weekend I attended graduation at my alma mater where the big story was Barack Obama, or Oback Barama as I've become fond of referring to him, replacing Ted Kennedy as keynote speaker. The speech I would give a "B," but turnout an A+ or so. Not surprisingly, after Obama spoke, shit cleared out in a hurry, which I actually thought was a little offensive to the graduates, but they probably didn't give a shit since they all shook hands with the Senator and presidential hopeful.
I honestly was expecting to drop some stuff here, but as I tend to get nappy on the train ride home, I'm already getting pretty close to my stop. I will say that on my ride in this morning I had a fairly fulfilling experience. Despite the fact that the train is packed because it's rush hour, many a commuter insists on not simply placing some item on the seat next to them to discourage a passenger joining them, but also looking ahead so as not to have to make eye contact with a potential seat sharer or, better yet, pretend to be asleep. Normally I just think quietly to myself what dicks these people are, but this morning I decided to assert my rights a little. A spotted an Indian gentleman in a fairly nice suit, covering the adjoining seat with a light folder, a seriously weak effort. In spite of this, his look away tactic had thus far been successful until I inserted a gruff "excuse me." He still kept his legs spread wide so as to give me less than my entitled allotment of seat.
Boring story I know, except that when he thought I had nodded off to sleep in the tunnel I observed him digging ferociously in his right nostril and then examine the spoils before placing it on the floor. I admit I was hoping he would eat it, but not every commute can be this action packed.
On a less boring note for the time being, I suggest you check out my buddy Blake's blog. A lot of funny shit happens to Blake, plus he has a gift, I feel, for placing it on the page. Whenever I get around to taking an extra three seconds to change my layout, I'll post a permanent link.
Finally, before I am likely without interweb for a few days I must post a link to the first episode of my current obsession,
Sir Digby Chicken Caesar, a recurring bit on the BBC sketch comedy show That Mitchell and Webb Look.
You must dine at my club sometime.