definition:Buzzardo

For the few readers who have been occasionally visiting, perhaps anxiously awaiting some new prophetic sonnet of love, hate, or utter disgust…

prepare to be dissapointed.

A vewpoint provided by NBC on a particular wind turbine in Connecticut. If you have an opinion, leave feedback on the NBC site under the video!

Goshen residents oppose wind energy

The following rants will not be categorized by date. For the few readers who periodically visit buzzardo.com perhaps anxiously awaiting some prophetic song about love, hate, or indifference…

…you might be waiting a bit longer.

Farting is funny.

Especially when you fart with an accent.

Click here to watch!

or, just go to ebaumsworld.com

One week ago, one of my roommates developed some severe eye irritation.  A trip to the emergency room revealed that he developed corneal ulcers from bacteria growing under his contact lenses.  During one of the several follow-up visits, there was a significant wait due to a major vehicle accident.  While we waited, the nurse decided we needed something to do.  She brought us an outlined picture that had in it other hidden pictures; like something you may have been handed in the fourth grade.  These puzzles were cleverly designed to occupy you at your little desk, while the teacher sipped whiskey from her coffee mug, writing love letters to her eighteen year old boy-toy on school letterhead.

After about an hour we had finally found all of the hidden items, just as the E.R. doctor entered the room.  He noticed that we were deeply involved in the completion of the puzzle and the following words fell from his mouth: “Would you guys like some crayons?  I hear Clarkson students are good at coloring.”. 

I have made a pact with myself and my roommates.  Whenever we witness someone doing something that is dangerous, idiotic, or otherwise stupid, we are going to ask them if they would like some crayons. 

I think you should do the same. 

“Would you like some crayons?”

Somehow, time has a peculiar manner of sneaking by, announcing its presence only when, say, a final exam is nearing commencement.  I don’t know where the time went, but do any of us?  I can seldom think of an activity that slows the clock anymore, except during a recitative lecture in fluid mechanics in the early afternoon [when most of our bio-clocks say we should be napping]

Battle tactics, 11 December, 2006:

06:00:00 - sit up in bed and destroy alarm clock.  Again.

06:00:15 - morning constitutional.

06:00:18 - dress in comfortable exercise clothing and run down to the gym…what?…of course, I realize only three seconds have passed, maybe you just need some practice!

06:05:00 - cardio work out on the rowing machine

07:04:42 - shower

07:05:00 - depart for chow hall [what, can't you take a satisfying 18 second shower?].

07:08:00 - eat.  food. 

07:30:00 - return to room, prepare notes and writing utencils.

07:35:00 - nap time.

08:02:37 - wake up and run frantically to the final that I am already two minutes and thirty seven seconds late for.

08:04:00 - arrive to the final and realize I have the formula sheet and books for the wrong exam.

11:00:01 - walk out of examination room holding buttocks to prevent them from falling off.

11:06:00 - create battle tactics for Tuesday.

Hmm.

Back in reality, I have five finals this week.  It will be wonderful to have them out of the way.  It will signify my continuing approach to graduate status, let alone establish me as a matriculated student at Clarkson University.  Woah.  Half an hour gone already.  CURSE YOU, TIME!!!

yay.  I am slowly warming up to the fact that someday I will have to be able to further utilize technology.