Not Not a Class

So I was playing soccer this weekend, and Weed decides in the middle of the game, that my foot needs to face the other way. And just as we both went to clear the ball, he kicked my ankle so hard, it hurt. I fell to the ground immediately and started yelping like a 10 year-old schoolgirl, only with more hair. I didn't care. I have no pride. It just hurt a whole freaking lot. But I get up, ice it, wrap it, and struggle through the following game because we were down a man. I was kicked in the right leg more times in this game than there are stupid clichés in the Bryan Adams songs. At this rate, I'll be dead by the final game.

For those of you who don't know, I have a huge mid-term in this class that cannot possibly be outdone when it comes to irrelevant information per word. The class is called "History and Theory Of Digital Art." So far I've read three chapters in one of our books. The first one was about ancient Pygmy language, the second a synopsis of music 101, and the third chapter was a philosophical debate or the existence of emptiness. An entire page is devoted to teaching us how to speak to crickets. I'm not kidding. Just so you guys can sympathize, here's an excerpt from our book on the "History and Theory Of Digital Art"...


Quote Of the Day 10/10

"The meaning of 'cow' is defined as that which is not 'not-a-cow.' Hence, 'cow = not-not-cow."
-Digital Mantras p.37



Well, that certainly clears it up.


Strangling the not-not-cow,
Not-not-Dustin.


Still Standing Right Here...
(not-not-not-there)