My bob Ross t-shirt is the most prized item that I've brought to college with me. The reason that it's so special to me is because it was given to me for Christmas by my parents when I never even asked for it, which always reminds me how well they know me. It also illustrates what great mentors they are to me to work hard but to not sweat the small stuff. The shirt itself is important to me because I like to think that I have more of a goofy and carefree personality, and I believe that this shirt is a good reflection of that. I have always also been envious of Bob for his positive attitude and his ability to remain calm under pressure and turn an accident into something spectacular. Sometimes when I feel inadequate at a particular subject in school, I just have to remind myself that everyone has strengths and weaknesses to begin with, but the greatest people are able to turn their greatest weaknesses into their greatest strengths.
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College has been pretty wacky-tacky so far and I will say one of the more interesting experiences so far was the Waka Flocka concert a few weeks back. The air was palpable with the smell of intoxication, as I stood uncomfortably amongst dozens of fellow spectators in what felt like being trapped inside of a sardine can. After being blasted for 3 hours with what seemed like a mixture of bass-boosted Death Metal lyrics, permeated with the sounds of a heroine-infused Michael Bay movie, my legs had begun to get weak. I was beginning to grow tired of the sweaty, excited concert goers that seemed to never run out of energy, and I began to have thoughts of leaving the human petri dish in order to get some water and to sit down. Speaking of water, I had none, since the rather rude individuals running the operation would not let me bring my water bottle in, and I was trapped in the depths of the crowd. To make matters worse, some particularly questionable individuals, who were standing 15 feet away from me, proceeded to make a mosh pit, and push each other into the crowd. As one can suspect, testosterone and intoxication do not mix well, and soon a fistfight broke out, and at one point, someone was thrown into the crowd, knocking over half a dozen people. Fearing that I too would be victimized imminently, I prepared my last words to my family and friends. To my great surprise however, a small gap then opened in the crowd, and my friends and I were able to escape. Now standing outside of the crowd, I collapsed and was finally able to grab a breath that didn't feel saturated with "the devil's lettuce". At this point Waka Flocka entered the stage, and the crowd went ballistic. After listening to a few of his songs, my friends and I decided that we'd had enough fun for the night, and we left. As I left the minidome, I came to the frightening realization that the concert had actually temporarily deafened me, and I began to wonder if it was too late to sign up for a sign language course. The concert was so loud in fact, that I could actually hear the vibrations from the speakers on the outer walls of the minidome. The night concluded with my friends and I going to the best fast food restaurant on earth AKA Pal's, and my hearing thankfully returned around 40 minutes later. My overarching conclusion is this: Am I glad I went? Yes. Am I glad I spent $25? Absolutely not. Would I bring military-grade hearing protection next time? Yes. Was it worth the partially deafness to watch one of the openers ride around on a tricycle while spitting some straight fire on the mic? Absolutely. 9.5/10 Totally Werf.
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AuthorI'm 18 years old, with aspiring dreams of being a trophy husband. I also enjoy the entire star wars series, and I love exercise, Bob Ross, and memes. I also hate Sea World, and think that it's an abomination to mankind. If I could have any animal as a pet, it would have to be a capybara. I love serving the community, and getting to meet and develop friendships with new people! Archives
April 2018
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