So Arsenal lost on Sunday to Liverpool. It's a good thing I only found out now, because it would have ruined my whole day. Now I only have to deal with a ruined night.

Fucking A.

By the way, fuck.

My goal for today was to bump into someone and say, 'grow eyes, asshole.' I thought it would be funny.

Other than that, I devised one of those meaningless questions:

Q: Who's cooler, a kid smoking in front of Bartlett or a kid smoking in front of the Reg?
A: If you're seriously considering this, you're obviously one of them.

From this point on, I'm just on autopilot until I go to sleep. Which is not for a while yet.

Fucking Liverpool.

In this world, there are some people who just try too hard. You know, people like that annoying little cousin who keeps trying to ingratiate himself to you, or the vast majority of freshmen in any school, or the little train that could. People who try too hard can sometimes be really, really annoying. Now, if you're like me, you're probably thinking what I'm thinking, namely, 'man, fuck these people. I need a fucking sandwich.' If you're not thinking that, though, you may just be someone who tries too hard.

In an effort to help all you sorry sods who may fall under the category of 'people who try to hard', I polled the opinion of 7 independent experts whose peers rated them as 'pretty chill' in order to try and determine what warning signs could indicate that you or those close to you may be 'trying to hard'. Here are some classic symptoms of people who try too hard:

1) If you find yourself mentioning cool stuff about yourself more than once in a given conversation, regardless of the reason (and yes, because you think nobody heard it the first time counts), you are probably trying too hard. Shut the fuck up and chill out. Nobody needs to know how cool you are, and if they do, they're dorks anyway. Fuck it.

2) If people describe you as 'earnest', you're probably trying too hard. Oscar Wilde wasn't advocating being earnest in 'The Importance of Being Earnest'. He was taking a shit on your trying-too-hard head. Yeah.

3) If you keep trying to justify why things are cool, you're trying too hard. Unless you're doing it ironically, in which case you may have transcended cool and gone to post-cool. Otherwise you're a fucking dork. Cool doesn't say why. Cool just is. Damn straight.

4) If you're going out of your way to meet people at parties, you're probably trying too hard. I mean, you might be really friendly, but then again, if you were friendly and cool, you'd be so busy saying hi at parties that you wouldn't have time to meet people. Let new people come to you, and those that don't are either airheads or losers. Fuck them.

5) If you spend more than, say, 10 minutes (for straight guys) or an hour (for girls or gay dudes) making yourself up every day, you may be trying too hard. Nobody likes walking shitheaps, but then again, no amount of combing will make the zits on your face disappear. So give it up, douchebag.

6) If you're still wondering whether you may be trying too hard, you're definitely trying too hard. If I was a clueless first year reading this, I'd be like, hey, fuck this dude, he's full of shit. Yeah, well, if you weren't thinking that by now, fuck you, you're fucking trying too hard.

The other day I was at this party and there was this dude and we were talking and I shot the shit with him a bit. He was a good kid. He was smoking some weed or something like that, and acting like he was from where all the good shit was so he was, like, a pro stoner or something. I think he was from New York. Anyway, this dude was trying too hard.

As we left the party, he took a right on 52nd, and my friends and I walked down greenwood to my place to drink a few beers. He was all, like, 'yeah dudes, see you guys later, nice meeting you,' and some other shit I don't really care what he said, whatever. So, as he turned I yelled at him, 'yeah, nice meeting you, don't try too hard'. The kid thought I said something important or some shit, so he ran, like, halfway across the intersection and was all, like, 'what?'

I wasn't going to walk over to him, and he hadn't caught up, so I just said it a little louder. I said, 'Don't try too hard, man!'

My friends said that phrase would torment him for, like, his whole first year or something. I beg to differ. I bet, one day, he'll be on his crapper all constipated from trying too hard, then it'll hit him. He'll be all, like, 'oh yeah, I'm trying too hard.'

Maybe then it'll be easier for him to shit.

Last night my whole apartment smelt of soap, or at least vanilla. Not the tasty type of vanilla, though. Rather, it smelt like the smoky, sickly sweet scented candle variety of vanilla which I absolutely abhor. According to the roommate, our apartment smells "like shit". Between stale smoke and incense, though, I figure I'd go for the smoke.

You see, I've realized that I really don't like smells that don't seem edible. I want to smell something and think, 'hmm, that smells good, I want to eat some of that,' rather than, 'hmm, that smells sweet.' Sweet smells are overrated. I prefer the smell of garlic, or fish, or wet markets, or roasting meat.

Someone should make incense that smells of roasting meat. Now that would be awesome.

I just wrote a moderately entertaining blog entry about how miserable my day was getting, but I accidentally deleted it.

My life is awesome.

Today i dragged myself from dreary building to dreary building, spent lunch break at the reg editing one of two papers due tomorrow, and now am sitting in the lab, trying my damn best not to fall asleep (and somehow failing miserably). Today I saw two toilets marked 'out of order' and somehow felt that they drew a striking parallel to my mood.

On another note, though, I have tickets to London. S-weet!

Seeing as to how I have two research papers due tuesday, a midterm on wednesday and my GREs on thursday, I figured I'd waste a little time and update my xanga/livejournal/blog (I still find it funny that I'm so desperate to be read that I maintain three of these motherfuckers). Anyway, I'm sure anyone still reading would be vaguely interested to know where the hell I've disappeared to. To tell you the truth, I've been spending a lot of time dicking around on my computer. Microsoft, being the evil corporation that it is, has attempted to sodomize me with compulsory office reactivation, and I have sidestepped its monopolizing corporate penis by defecting to EasyOffice, which is, awesomely enough, free. It's also compatible with its Microsoft counterpart, and has a vaguely amusing voice read back function, so that's given me a little bit of pleasure, you know, sporadically. It's kind of cool listening to a machine read my developmental psychology paper, just for kicks and whatnot.

Other than that, I now have a DVD burner, so I've been downloading even more frenetically than usual. Granted, it's a huge waste of my time, but honestly, some times I feel that wasting my own time is arguably my finest talent. Yeah. Something like that.

Ok I've run out of things to say. Somebody save me from myself before I drive myself crazy.