Man. I'll tell you, I hate this sh*tty c*ty. I've had my mom's new Honda Insight parked at the garage for the last week while my parents were on vacation. As I approached the car, I saw the drivers side rear view mirror was pushed back, and the passenger side mirror was hanging from its control wires. For some reason, some 'tard went out and broke the rear view mirror of my mom's car on purpose. Now, it'd be one thing if someone backed into it by accident, no sweat, but it was forcefully broken in such a way that it scratched and dented the door, and broke the sill of the window. I know it was done on purpose because my roomate was the car parked next to me and he hadn't moved his car in days. Who are these people?!

This was a corner of the room devoted to the gangster arts. Aptly named the "Ghetto Corner," it had pictures of great rappers of the day such as Coo Coo Cal, the Triple Six Mafia, Cadillac Tah, and of course Snoop Dogg.

Here's my desk and collagish portion of last year's dorm. While my roommate, Jason, was busy hanging up pictures of girls, I was hanging up pictures, cars, monkeys boxing and wrestling, and Gilroy PD Police Line ups. I'm cool

Some new people moved into one of the buildings of our apartment complex. They threw some stuff out in the hallway that the previous tenants left behind. FREE STUFF! (score)The most enticing thing in the hallway was a giant throw rug. Well, when opportunity knocks, you answer. So at 2 am this morning Jason, my roommate, and I picked up the carpet an made a mad dash down the hall back to our place trying not to be seen. We brought the rug upstairs and proceeded to lay it out on the living floor. "What's that smell?" Mike asks. "Why does my arm have this painful itch?" I wonder. The rug was FILTHY. My arm quickly broke out with a rash, and we're still sneezing half an hour later. We rolled the carpet back up and proceeded to take it back to where we found it. As we started the long trek down the hall, Jason and I both realized we have a strong dislike for our neighbors. The rug became our gift to them. Philanthropy reigns. I wish I could see their face tomorrow morning.

Mike and I had a Late Twentieth century art lecture for humanities on Tuesday. Inspired, we went to the art building to look at the galleries on display. There was some lame stuff, and some cool urban art. There was one particularly interesting gallery in a small room. Each wall had a different theme. On one wall, garbage was tacked onto little squares. Another wall had paintings that appeared to be black and white photography. Another wall was an arrangement of blue beads. Against the wall nearest the door, was a white podium with a guest book, pen and a flower vase on it. I went over, to look at the guest book entries. It was there to leave comments for the artist, and had lots of nice things written in it.
Dear Anna, Congratulations on getting your own gallery
or Anna, Way to go. You're doing a good job!
or Hey Anna, Awesome work. I especially like the paintings!
Many comments her friends had written. So, wanting to leave a comment of my own, I flipped through and found an open page and wrote

Dear Anna,
           Great gallery! Thanks for the pen!                               ~David