Unless something horrific happens I have an apartment next year. An amazingly large apartment one block from College ave and one block from the park. Oh my God, my life is amazing. But so so random. I'm writing a journal entry about the apartment in a bit ...

Have you ever seen any Oprah episodes when the topic is the gross bacteria on movie theater seats or bathroom door knobs or something? I'm sitting here in journalism, typing on the good old Gateway, and wondering how much fecal matter is on these dirty, nasty, keys.

Note to self: He had a great link to an article on hacktevism. I should use the idea for the inside beat cover story I have to write later in the month.

Ever heard of a Cum Tree? Neither have I, but they exist. Come to New Brunswick. For the past three days whenever I walk down my street I smell a foul, tart odor. I realized today it's coming from the fucking prettty, blooming flowers on the trees along our street. They smell like cum!!!

Stadium Pal scares me. What happens when you puncture the pouch?

I'm so all about the photos. Today was no exception.

So, I'm at Targum and Jes just mentioned something I hadn't heard yet, which is surprising considering the blogs I read. On the 30th, same-sex marriages were sanctoned by a major rabbis group. One said, "It's no honor to be heterosexual, no sin to be homosexual," he said. "It's just who we are."



That's something.