The time has come for GTL to GTFO
By Shea Ford | June 27, 2011I hate "Jersey Shore."
I hate "Jersey Shore."
I'm about to begin a journey into a jungle. This isn't your typical jungle. Here, habitats range from indeterminate bars to packed apartments. Sustenance is in the form of ethanol. The male animals are characterized by Polos, reversed hats and the use of the word "bro."
You think he would have learned from his countless role models.
In 1946, George Orwell said that political language "is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind."
"Sith, get one of your boys to cross the Mekong. Bring back a couple of shopping bags full of pot."
"I am become Death, destroyer of worlds."
Recently I was watching an interview of Dave Chappelle, who has faded from the public consciousness after fleeing the burdens of being an American cultural icon.
Impending doom arrived May 21, 2011.
I gulp a frosty mug of Pabst, wink at Gerry and ask, "Hey Hank, when are you going to start serving blacks in here?"
Since assuming office in January, Gov. Rick Scott has taken every step possible to pander to corporate interests at the expense of Florida's working class.
"Wait ‘til you try this. You won't believe it."
Do you ever wake up in the morning, look in the mirror and declare to the world how remarkably awesome you are?
As I was placing my weekly necessities on the conveyor belt at Sweetbay one morning, I glanced at the magazines begging for my attention in front of me. Of course, I noticed the emaciated, indeterminate women on the covers and was forced to wonder, "Are these people even real?" Actually, with today's photo manipulation, they often are not.
They're really obscure. You've probably never heard of them.
Editor's Note: Across the world, millions struggle with addiction to alcohol and drugs. These are the stories, as best as he can remember them, of one of those compulsive personalities.
About two years ago, I decided to do what millions of college-aged kids have done since the days when Jesus and the Dirty Dozen toured as a traveling family band: print out a resume, put on the greatest pseudo-smile Monopoly money can buy and apply for a job.
"Hey man, aren't you from New York? A plane just hit the World Trade Center."
Here’s the situation: Your exam is on Saturday and, let’s be honest, you never actually watched those Statistics lectures. You did most of the quizzes, attended various labs and it’s all coming down to a careful calculation that says you must score at least an 85 on the final for a B in the class. What’s the game plan? Wouldn’t it be nice if there were a pill that gave you a super brain blast allowing for hours of cramming without any of the pain? Forget getting a B, this pill would let you score high enough on the final to reach a nearly-impossible A. Well, that pill exists. In fact, many of those pills exist, and they go by various names such as Adderall, Vyvanse and Ritalin. The day is finally here, folks. Tomorrow marks the end of the 2010-2011 school year at UF, and the light at the end of the tunnel is so bright it’s almost blinding. Freshmen like me end our first year of college while seniors bid their college years adieu. For all of us, however, one pesky word separates us from our summers, and it starts with an F and ends with INALS. Library West is braced for stuffing to max capacity, and Starbucks has stocked its strongest espressos. No. 2 pencils at the ready UF; it’s finals time. How will you navigate these treacherous waters?
What a difference a year can bring.
“I am fiscally conservative but socially liberal.”