Due to many recurring 5am nights working on papers, proposals and pretentious video-art projects, I have slowly come to aquire certain physical attributes normally associated with the "crackhead''. Sunken, bruised(?) eyes, eroded arms, and hair with the texture and malleability of a set of pipe-cleaners have all come to characterize my latest spring look. What fortunate timing, as I have like, no money to shop.

While I have been perfecting my date-ability, my best friend Josh
a) ran the Boston marathon
b) raised several thousand dollars for autism awareness/research
c) finished his Impressionism paper on time
d) got drunk

And now I must go watch The View cuz Beyonce is on and I want to hear here sell me Obsessed. Seriously, how awful does that shit look? So glad B made a mistake.