Friday, 10:56 p.m.
My boobs have magic powers.
Wednesday, 12:40 p.m.
An RIT student just published a book. You should probably write an article about him.
Sunday, 12:07 a.m.
All right, RIT Rings, I am back at my apartment. I was at TC Riley’s, having a great time. It was my friend’s 21st and I bought him a shot and he friggin’ puked all over me. So I’m back home changing and then I’m heading back to the bar.
Sunday, 12:00 a.m.
I’m just calling to be an [improper donkey] for a little while. I think it’s ridiculous that people who live in Colony Manor can’t park on campus, but on the weekends we can’t even park at our own complex. So [harsh expletive], those [ignoramus female dogs].
Saturday, 8:53 p.m.
I just found out that Henry Rollins from Black Flag, William Shatner the famous, and Adrian Belew all worked on a track together produced by the one and only Ben Folds called, “I Can’t Get Behind That.” All I can say is that must be one “Star Trek.” Oh, I need to go home.
Saturday, 8:39 p.m.
Hey Rings, you know the Reporter OCD article? You should have interviewed my roommate.
The dumb [truck] is such a neat freak. He cleans all day. Oh, well, he’s back, better go. Bye!
Sunday, 7:47 p.m.
Our next-door neighbors are blaring their bass again, so we’ve decided to turn on really really bad porn extremely loud and see how the [mother lovers] like that.
Friday, 6:11 p.m.
Sometimes I see purple rhinoceroses that run around in pink pantaloons prodding prostitutes in the ... I don’t know, figure something out.
Friday, 3:30 p.m.
I’m watching men snowboard down a hill and some of them fell on their stomachs and I found that to be pretty funny. I want David Bowie’s babies.