Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Saturday, January 6, 2007
Childhood Memories
You probably woke up this morning and said to yourself, "I wonder what's new with Charles lately. I wish he had a blog I could go read." Trouble yourselves no more as I will now answer all of your life's questions.
Life got interesting when I was selling one of my textbooks to a fellow BYU student. His name conjured up intrigue. I asked him if he was from Orem and perhaps attended Geneva Elementary as a young lad. Sure enough, Jared Bristow used to play soccer and chase girls on the same playground where I used to play soccer and get in fights with people whom I offended by calling them off-color names like "bub". I can already tell I'm forgetting a lot in life because there aren't too many things I remember vividly about my Geneva Elementary days. I hope that the roughly 85% of my brain that scientists claim I'm not using is storing all of those memories in high definition.
The only other thing this week that has been on my mind has been whether or not to live at home. BJ thinks I need an exit strategy. Apparently some girls are so misguided as to think that if someone is 26 and living at home, that MUST mean that he has no ambition, lacks the ability to take care of himself, and sends polonium-laced letters to retirees. So far my exit strategy is to stay the course stay the course stay the course. And like the Iraqi situation, my exit will no doubt include nuclear warheads. I welcome any and all comments about nice, cheap, close-to-BYU housing where I might also have clean roommates who don't think that a good time consists of playing Playstation XVIICIM for 9 hours every day and don't date.
Life got interesting when I was selling one of my textbooks to a fellow BYU student. His name conjured up intrigue. I asked him if he was from Orem and perhaps attended Geneva Elementary as a young lad. Sure enough, Jared Bristow used to play soccer and chase girls on the same playground where I used to play soccer and get in fights with people whom I offended by calling them off-color names like "bub". I can already tell I'm forgetting a lot in life because there aren't too many things I remember vividly about my Geneva Elementary days. I hope that the roughly 85% of my brain that scientists claim I'm not using is storing all of those memories in high definition.
The only other thing this week that has been on my mind has been whether or not to live at home. BJ thinks I need an exit strategy. Apparently some girls are so misguided as to think that if someone is 26 and living at home, that MUST mean that he has no ambition, lacks the ability to take care of himself, and sends polonium-laced letters to retirees. So far my exit strategy is to stay the course stay the course stay the course. And like the Iraqi situation, my exit will no doubt include nuclear warheads. I welcome any and all comments about nice, cheap, close-to-BYU housing where I might also have clean roommates who don't think that a good time consists of playing Playstation XVIICIM for 9 hours every day and don't date.
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