School is as school does. Man, I simply cannot wait for this semester to end. Bring on the summer. I man even, gasp, ride a bike. Little bit. Kinda.
I might have already linked that last one. I can’t remember shit like that anymore. Whatever. My plate is full. And then some.
I am occasionally reminded that I am not like the others. Sorta like when you’re putting in that mileage and some dickhead swerves at ya and honks his horn and calls you a fag. Just to keep you in check. Just to remind you that he’s in a car and he could fuck up your Christmas with one flick of his wrist while he juggles a half gallon of moo juice and his two balls in his left hand. Yo son, my Dodge represents.
Following some class exercises and presentations and broken dreams and crushed spirits yesterday, me and the rest of my 1L brethren had a chance to vote all anonymous like by logging in to an online pole (yeah, p o l e). Half the class, my class, my classmates, my peers, my constituents, my colleagues, said that when they read the word “medical marijuana” they saw something “illegal”. Half of ‘em voted that a “minor” should not be allowed to wear a shirt that “promoted” or “advocated” medical marijuana, even if it was “legal in the state”. Half of ‘em voted that it didn’t matter if a cancer patient was legally prescribed medical marijuana by a doctor under state law, it is, and should be, a “crime”.
I am not of this world. It just sucks that I let myself forget.by