ARGH!! MY EYES!!

   One of my eccentricities is that, every 15 minutes, I will get up and walk around the floor of my hostel. It’s because I can think better when I was moving, and besides it gives me a wee bit of exercise. So no harm, right?

   Unfortunately, on my latest journey, I came across an International student clad only in his boxers, with his… privates bulging prominently. “GYAAAAAHHHH!!!!” screamed some part of my subconscious, my psyche shuts down, and my brain undergone a soft reset. I must research whether it’s constitutional to force everyone within the hostel grounds to wear decent clothing when outside of their rooms.

an accurate representation of what’s going on in my mind at that
exact moment

   This is one of the cons of hostel life; big, hairy men walking in their short shorts. While I have no opinion on homosexuality (note: by “no opinion”, it means that I’m neither for or against gays; I just don’t see any reason why i should form any leaning one way or the other… yet), nevertheless I also believe that guys should practise modest dressing. Ah, do note that this restriction is only for GUYS. Ladies, feel free to parade around in your undies. You will have no complaints from me, no sir.

   That aside, have I mentioned how screwed I am tomorrow? I have Logic Programming lab test at 9am (9! Why can’t he schedule it on tutorial hours? WHY?), followed by Machine Architecture lab test at 2pm (and why did I schedule TWO exams on one day? Am I an idiot? Wait, don’t answer that). And the day after, I have to hand in my non-existent programming exercise.

   And as if I don’t have enough problems as it is, Mr. High-and-Mighty have somehow forgotten how to use a headphone. Fuck, I’ll play MY mp3s at full blast the next time HE tries to study. Ah, how I long for a time when I can get all the privacy I want.

   You know what’d really hit the spot right now? One of those round coffee-flavoured Marie biscuits. I know, I should probably demand something fancier, like Cordon Bleu and 32-oz steaks, but can I help it if I’m a man of simple tastes? Maybe I’ll buy some tomorrow, to heal my broken, stomped, totally riddled-with-holes heart tomorrow. Oh academia, you are such a harsh mistress *sobs*