JETHRO HOROWITZ

Life inside college is no different to living inside the clink. I got sent here 4 years ago and vowed never to return. Look at me now. It’s my first week back and I’m already looking for the toughest guy so I can stick my toothbrush sharpened shiv into his guts. I would never even think of doing this on the outside, but college… It changes you.

We had a party Saturday night and I tried my best to shoot for the stars but never got there. I’m sure they watered down the grog to keep the Gen Pop under control. The music was also played to keep everyone gay, literally gay. YMCA and the Scissor Sisters were on repeat for most of the night and when I couldn’t take it anymore. I ambitiously grabbed my ipod. The beats which I played from the college’s huge speakers were so deliciously thick and fresh, I reached a new level of consciousness. I had to cut my state of ecstasy short, however, because gangs were forming on the dance floor. What began as booing, developed into shouts of ‘whoever is playing this shit should die!’ I snuck out escorted by close friends.

Just like in the slammer, we have rec time as well. Some spend their time calling loved ones, others play basketball or just bum smokes. I, along with many others hit the gym to prepare for what might come. I remember just 8 months ago, I was king of the gym, I would laugh at the Filipino body builders who were finishing their bench presses as I added 20 kilo man-hole covers to the already stressed out bar. My enormous biceps and rippling pecs became a Filipino landmark.

Since my days of glory, I have maintained a continuous 8 month state of atrophy. So, the first day back at the gym meant me removing all the weights from the previous user (a petite Asian girl) and lifting just the bar. After a few repetitions, it was time for the infirmary. The doctor said I had micro torn some muscles in my arm and not to work out for at least a week. It was the kind of pain euthanasia should be legalised for.

Things are going to be dangerous until I find a click to protect me. I’m just scared of what I need to do to gain membership. I’m still suffering the effects of smuggling a hot pot in my ass from when I joined the Honkies the first time I was here all those years ago.

The Source Of My Demise:

Pump it up, play it loud!

This entry was posted on Wednesday, August 6th, 2008 at 2:14 am and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.