It's nights like these that I love...

"So, you're not feeling Naqeeb tonight?" -David Yoon

Probably one of the first things I've heard all semester, basically because it was the biggest cock block of the century. Mr. Yoon is a funny human being and I am convinced that he is North Korean. Want proof? Look to your left. This old communist bastard is full of laughter though. He provided me with a bunch of them as I thought the night would most certainly just be full of artsy or pseudo-artsy kids dancing around like a bunch of 6 year olds. Amongst the drunkenness he provided much entertainment. Sucks for poor Naqeeb though. Maybe his night ended better than your red-faced azn. But still. Fucking hilarious. I'm still laughing. Thank you, David Yoon. And he likes anime, and by anime I mean hentai. And only the finest. So if it doesn't involve tentacles do NOT bother, David. At all.

Overall the party was a good time. I met new people, I conversed with old friends and pretty much enjoyed myself. I also hit up the dance floor and too, danced like an annoying 6 year old who needs to take a shit. The worst part of the night though was when you had to make the dreaded walk to the backyard to smoke a cigarette. I'm not complaining about the line that built up just to go outside, one could just push himself through, but I'm talking about the fucking poo poo smell that lingered in the kitchen that was conveniently located next to the bathroom. That was no man doo doo smell. Ours is more pungent. This was the work of a female, it lingered, it stung, it stained. Just like your average bitch.

When I thought my weekend was going to end because I literally almost did nothing on Saturday, it wasn't. By the way, Happy Birthday Loren. My cousin turned 16 years old. Ok back to my point though. I get back to Rutgers, and I thought it was going to be dead. Nada, zilch. WRONG. Due to a few stories I told about former acquaintances, it triggered my best pal Phil into telling me about this party at this house where our best girl friend lives at. K-Bizzlebock. So anyway. Get to the party. Dudes. MAD dudes. Not just "hey you're a cool dude" dudes, but fucking asshole dudes. Bros. Chavs. Dickheads.

Speaking of which. Did you know Rutgers has a golf team? A fucking golf team. What a bunch of queers. They thought they were bad ass in there golf gear, but still it's fucking golf. No fucking respect. I was about to whoop this one golfer's ass. He was like 5'5 and didn't carry a 9iron on him. What a pussy. But anyway, the night got good. How good? Wait until you read this.

"That girl said she's prettier than me. You know I don't think I'm that pretty but I know I'm prettier than her. I'm going to pour my drink on her"- Lauren (dont know last name.)

She's a mega babe though. And she topped off my weekend. How? Fucking chick fighting. The only fighting that is acceptable. I wish a titty popped out. Hair was being pulled. White girls were yelling at each other. Nothing was really done, but watching two to four suburban white broads go at it gets me hard. Fuck, I wish a titty popped out. It was golden though FUCKING golden.

And you see, it's weekends like these that make me love college. Even though I'm going to Art School, I'm still part of a University and that shit is boss. I love school. I love chicks fighting. I love your comical azn guy and the stuff that just falls out of his mouth. Without weekends like this... I just dont know how I'd live.