Uncle Chafe is chafed. No shock there. I'm in the Brighton Library (I know, very sketchy, but it really is the best kept secret of BC finals Week - close to Walsh, virtually empty, printers out the fucking ass, and really nice 70's decour. I'm divulging this secret now because I'm done tomorrow and could care less if you invade my oasis any point thereafter), studying Environmental Law. At this juncture I've definitely spent more time calculating the lowest possible score I can get tomorrow to retain my B in the class than I have spent actually studying (iPhone calculators are tough to operate, get off my ass). Besides for that, what would you expect any sane, conventional BC student to be doing in the midst of a study grind? Checking Broston College of course. But, since I write for the site and can basically repeat every post verbatim, I occasionally have to settle for less comical, less interesting, less original blogs.
Yes, I'm talking about the weasel Portnoy. Now kids at Umass Amherst and Johnson and Wales (what the fuck is Johnson and Wales?) may be pretty intrigued with this jabroni's wit, and I assume many are amused by his work daily. Well friends, his posts amuse me for drastically different reasons. The only time I get tickled by a Portnoy post is when I know he's stolen it from me. Needless to chay, he jacked another post a day late. Dear Barstool, I have been grinding my balls off all week, studying for 4 finals in 3 days, blogging only when my head feels like it's going to explode, and you still can't keep up? It's like a Major League player, whose job it is to play baseball, not being able to keep up with Benny the Jet, who just fucks around with his boys in the Sandlot ripping the cover off the ball when he feels like it. I really don't care, I'm above it, but if he wants to work for us he should just ask politely, don't you think?