It's like Jerry Garcia in a pouch, man.

Wow, what a week.

I will remember this week for a very long time, maybe my entire life. It was the week that I finally went to a full on, backwards cap, polo shirt wearing MOTHERFUCKING FRAT PARTY. At first, I didn't think I could handle it. The red cups, the bellowing, the relentless beer chugging. I thought I was about to do a fucking scanners. A fucking scanners, man.

But I was no loose cannon. I pulled it back and pounded enough Keystone light to make even the the most weathered Chad, Brad, or Cody feel inadequate. And as I couldn't possibly do this level of funny justice, I took my camera along.

Class

I won't regale you lot with my classes (they are all pretty much awesome) except for one; creative writing.

The professor struts and bobs into the room. Shit he looks familiar. Then it hits me; he looks identical to 60 year old Jerry Garcia. Things were about to get ridiculous.

Rocks and Islands, man.

I'm deadly serious, we started off with a discussion of the usage of metaphor in various 70s rock songs.

I am a rock, I am an island he proclaimed, quoting a famous Simon and Garfunkel song.
"
Wouldn't it be awesome if they played the song dressed like a rock and an island?" mused the professor, laughing at his own statement for the best part of twenty seconds. No one else laughed.

My god I thought, this man has consumed more drugs in his life time then all of the children's T.V presenters of the 40 years put together. And then some more.