Helen Gurley Brown Sells Sex

Sorry I was out last time, unfortunately I turned my alarm off and proceeded to turn myself over, back towards the coddling arms of my bed. It actually isn't very coddling. Dorm beds have this casing around them which I assume is to prevent vomit soakage. Oh well, I was too tired, 'kay?

So now I'm really in class, as I should be. Scarface is (thankfully) again in the row ahead of me, this time a handful of seats over. Cheats is close to him. Too close. I can't find Bed-head, now taking his place is a strange guy with a hat who is undeniably younger than 22 but looks to be about 46. It's weird. Scar is wearing this very...striped yellow sweater thing. I bet Cheats enjoys it.

Today's topic: Magazines.

Holy buckets, there was a magazine in the 1800s about me.

MCCLURE'S MAGAZINE.

Apparently it was the Cosmo of it's day. I'm awesome, and lecherous.

Micah is writing his blog right now, I hope it isn't better than mine. If it is, though, I'll just have to chop his legs off at the knees. Either way...

Poor Prof. X has chlamydia. Not really, it's actually a common cold which went straight to his lecturing voice. Or a touch of emphysema. Nonetheless he's doing a grand 'ol job. What a muthaf***ing trooper.

Now, I've decided to give you a tiny peek into my personal life. Since this is The Journalism Window after all, I figured it would only be fitting to show you the many windows of my Journalism experience. This one I will share with you is about a girl. Oh, now you're ready aren'tcha? Okay, it all began long long ago (and by that I mean yesterday at approx. 8:20 am) in my Drawing class. The girl who sat next to me is one I had noticed in my Anthropology class, but I didn't say anything about it because usually I'm not noticed. Not to be self-deprecating, I'm just not the most popular guy. Anyway..she sits there, looking like she could be a natural bitch but also looking quite superb, and says "hey, aren't you in my Anthro class?" I'm hooked. Love, it must be. Long story short, she's a Journalism major and she's super fine and we have not one, not two, but THREE classes together! Don't get too excited just yet though. I decided to be a super freak (like Rick James, bitch) and find this hot Journalism girl on Facebook. It took me about 10 minutes (which, if you're an internet creep is actually a long time to spend just finding someone) but eventually I hit the jackpot! Unfortunately, I also hit

a brick wall, face first. She's "in a relationship" with some kid (he's probably older than me, but he's a senior in high school so I'm still going to make him sound like a child) with a stupid name. I know I can't use his name against him because it really wasn't his choice, but it's dumb so he is too. That's what I deduced alright? So now, here I sit in my Journalism class, taking notes, writing a blog, and every so often glancing about 6 rows ahead of me where HotJournalismGirl sits. Urgh.

Wow, I just spent 16 lines telling you a story that basically ends with a FAIL and I've hardly talked about the real romance in the room.

Cheats just dropped his phone. Luckily Scarface was there to pick it up form him. What a pair, what a pair.

That's all for now because I'm sick of you. BYE.


Edit: Micah would like to offer his condolences to Mr. McClure and extend the arm of compassion. Just the arm mind you, not the whole shindig