DoofusMedia

Return to Very Few Apologies

Here we go again!! And by again I mean one last time. For real now. The last thing I posted in this section was my nearly week long trip down to Key West back in early March. It is now June 6th as I type. College is done forever. And, more importantly, being relatively removed from reality in a town full of people within four years of my age doing things similar to me, in the grand scheme of the world, is done, forever. lt's a gift and a curse, a double edged sword as I more often like to say, but I do reflect on life frequently. And if there's one thing that I've come to realize I'll miss about these odd past four years of my life, it's this - there truly was potent absurdity readily available around every corner. A good picture may be worth a thousand words, but I don't know about a shitty screengrab. But who cares what the scale reads out to. Below is what I could manage to scrounge together from the archives I have from the past three months. So let it roll baby, let it roll. 

 

BANGER DANGER BEGIN


sums it up or no..?

This picture signifies the coming of spring time if I've ever seen it.

[I DID THIS (in collaboration with White Castle)]

HI DEF QUALITY OF SING DOING HIS FRIDAY NIGHT GIG AT BILTMORE; VIVA BURMA!!!


REX OUTGREW HIS LACTOSE INTOLERANCE AND THIS IS HIS FIRST TIME AT BEN AND JERRY'S

I'm not gonna lie about this... toward the end of my school career I started paying over 20 dollars to have a crabcrake over walnut rice pilaf delivered to my room.

For real though, a night of smash and freestyling with the naturally associated drinking and smoking amongst homies is not nm.


~~~~ ENHANCED GROG INGREDIENTS ~~~~


We never had a "spot" until relatively near the end, but it became Michael's Bistro. God bless blue motorcyles, Chris, and Kayla, all for very different reasons. 


STMOTHERFUCKINGP BABY

yo for real, it may be june 6th now but it ain't over. and for real, watch this 1988 CSPAN interview with Bernard, please.

YEAH THAT IS ICE IN MY LEFTOVER ROOTS BOWL DON'T BE AFRAID TO EXPERIMENT MOTHERFUCKERS

the wind from my open balcony door pushed these weak motherfuckers over HA SURE

AND HE KILLS IT

EMPTY PITCHERS BLANK FACES GLITCHES IN THE MATRIX

 

Like the fact that I saved the hardest class I'd ever taken in college until my last semester :')


INTIMATE MOMENTS AT MELLOW MUSHROOM became a Friday standard with Rex, Robbie, and Paula after hour long Buddhist Meditation sessions. I still take that sentence for granted, but damn... meditation followed by exotic pizzas. When will that be scheduled in my life weekly again?

the face you make when the random fuck at the door tries to bigdick the crew but before you can get hostile the girls that you barely know invite you in to the apartment to party even though "the party is over" and you proceed to take all of their alcohol as bounty and reject the sorry motherfucker's apology upon his slight sobering up and subsequent realization that he was fucked all along 

lol ROFL LMAO RITE

(a more intimate crabcake scene)

past 6am in the woods alone pausing on my way home for 15 minutes to take in the beauty of being alive and awake until the morning light again....

~ THE ABSURDITY OF IT ALL IS POTENT ~

look, I wouldn't dare try to put my beloved societal fuck up squad into words, but here's two shitty screengrabs of two of them shits taking some ballsy risks that I guarantee they never once considered ballsy. 


11 is the closest I ever got to being number 1 in line for Bodo's 

also here's a cheat code for your motherfuckin taste buds:

cinnamon raisin bagel with turkey and american cheese, and bacon, tomato, anddd strawberry cream cheese.

and if you order it in the wrong order it'll cost more, and if you don't exaggerate the last "anddd" they'll get confused and fuck it up 88.9% of the time.


AND THEN QUEUE THE RIVER HAUS::::
Look, I don't know how many details I'm willing to go into here, but try this... substance a fockin plenty with the nicest alcohol you've bought in years coupled with whipping a 33 foot boat at full speed under these influences, partaking in watersports all new to you, and then a spot of fishing on the side, all of this followed by beautiful excess time being split between eating fresh crab, gambling on bumper pool and poker, smoking cigarettes in a hot tub, and more of that aforementioned quality alcohol all the while. You do what you please, but I'll say this: fuck a beach week.


AND WE CAME BACK AND GRADUATED. Thank God the robes were black. And I'm not exercising hyperbole when I say we were able to stop to take this beautiful selfie in the rain because the SFUS were the last people in the long line that walked the lawn that day. My motherfuckin g's.


LAST NIGHT OUT ON THE CORNER EVER CELEBRATING DAVID GRAY'S 23RD BIRTHDAY AT MICHAEL'S WITH FREE SHOTS COURTESY OF KAYLA'S LAST NIGHT AND ALL, FOCKIN RIGHT, PICTURE OF AFTERMATH FOLLOWS:

And forever etched into those walls... let the torch of good hearted mayhem and valiant plundering in that too often tight-strung place be passed on to the next willing generation.

THIS IS FROM MY LAST MORNING IN CHARLOTTESVILLE; regardless of temporal sentiments may I say: gold sun, green trees, purple sky. One of nature's most beautiful combos she has to offer. 

1252 BARN BROOK ROAD.... if I'm not back where I started I'll be damned... for better or for worse, it is what it is, right?

Cwiss and Milkhand. The other half of SFUS. I suppose the summer has begun whether I've accepted it or not.

My friendly neighborhood Starbucks is now serving beer with complementary seasoned pumpkin seeds which could very well be a game changer in their much-sought-after transition from faceless corporate entity that I happen to enjoy being at to friendly neighborhood cafe with welcoming name recognition that I can really do some quality work at again, which admittedly would be a much needed phenomenon...

AND SO IT'S BEGUN. SUMMER 2016. IT'S TIME TO COME THE FUCK INTO MY OWN.

closing words and....

I'm not a very sentimental person. I know a lot of people that cried in the moments, hours, and even days that followed college graduation. And a lot of them aren't even crying types. But the two fucks that you see pictured above along with myself cracked jokes during the entire graduation ceremony. And fuck an ego or even a pat on the back, but the people around us had a damn good laugh. That is to say that quite often sentimental for the sake of being sentimental type of shit just doesn't get through to me. I'm sorry, but I don't give a fuck what some random poet that I've never heard of has to say about the past four years of my life that I've LIVED. I can ponder that summary on my own. And it's hard as hell to put into words, and this is by no means at all everything I have to say, but if there's one simple but profound thing I've realized, it's something like this: I will never again be removed from the grind that life so often becomes and put into a semi-dream like wandering state of absurdity with no one but my always willing peers constantly surrounding me again... unless I bust my ass and make it happen myself. I suppose this is to say I've never bought into college being the four glory years of my life. I've never bought into any statement that says, "It's all downhill from here!" And I'm a pretty dark motherfucker at that. 

 

Look, if I'm to be honest, I had a very odd and disturbing series of dreams the other night. Amongst Inception-like phenomena of dreams within dreams coupled with disturbing patterns of imminent death and doom, there was another constant theme: it was the end of school! In a classic sense that we've all felt since elementary school spilled out into mid and late June; one that evolved through middle school, and through high school, and most recently even college; and I'm not exaggerating when I say that the hype in these dreams was much more than I felt upon graduation from college in real life. And so much of it was based around the stimple fact that I knew I stood with my peers, not just my friends, but my acquaintances as well, and their friends, and all of that just creating the general dynamic and alive feeling of the scene that is our age group linking up in ways that seem comical to mention because they have been so frequent that we take them for granted. But who the fuck are we now? Alone, scattered from our epicenter, our collective shaking of the world disappated into a sad series of individual tremors that can't even muster the potential to register on the scale that weighs the whole thing. That's a brutal couple sentences to write, but I believe it's an honest assessment. That wonderful potent absurdity that we all loved, whether we called it by that name or not, is gone. Life is moving and flowing and changing. That's as much of a fact as the wind blowing, or not as it does in the doldrums, which may be the more relevant comparison.

 

And so as you read this I'll be the first to fully honestly admit... I don't know. I don't really know what's next, but I do know that, to put it lightly, it ain't all fun and games. But my friends, if we give up, if we sell out, if we take just the salary for the expenses, and the expenses as the next thing, and the next thing as the so-called maturity and then the family and the settling down, and then the settling down as the sacrifice of dreams, then who the fuck are we? Where the fuck will the inevitable resentment retreat to? Why the fuck shouldn't we be able to get to know ourselves intimately over the years without fear of losing those longterm goals that we've held in our imaginations since we were children? And why the fuck should we ever call the dreams that are rooted in our souls childish? I'm fucking tired of seeing that phenomenon so frequently. Being an idealist is not naive, and being a realist does not mean you need to swing to the preclaimed sides of optimism or pessimism. This vast series of movements that we call life is a very strange thing. In truth, real truth, if there's one thing I've learned, it's that: life is a strange and beautiful and dynamic creature. I seek control over mine, but I don't really have it yet. And that's ok. Because I've been giddily awaiting the day that my 17 years of schooling is done, and I graduated a couple weeks ago, but it's finally here tonight. So I haven't tamed the wild stallion that this incredible series of movements is, but I'm on my way. I'm so fucking unsure, but through the darkness, I know I'm better than ever.

 

 

 

 


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