Euphemisms, gay porn, depraved pantomimes, famous historical figures being the bitches of other famous historical figures, it was the Gong Show, Jeopardy, and Iron Chef combined into a swirling cesspool of higher learning. Our memories were fermenting, the analysis reducing us to the state of drunken, juvenile beasts.

Say what you will about Acid and X; no physical substance known to man can screw with your head the same way Finals can.

Matt L. and I studied right up until the test. I'm amazed how well we bounce ideas off each other, being able to play with and pervert ideas into new combinations. I was sad that we wouldn't be working together again.

Last night I felt doubt. At 5:00am while I twisted my hands white and called myself an idiot for staying up so early, I felt doubt. As we walked across campus to the sunken-in seminar room, there wasn't a question in my mind. He started to doubt himself, but I was in a whole other zone. There was nothing I could do but succeed absolutely.

The connections I made during the essay writing amazed me. They kept poking themselves into the sides of my mind, little toothpicks of inspiration scrawled on the edges of my blue book with hasty arrows. I went to town on that essay, utterly dominated that essay, amazed even myself the way it all came together; like your perfect climax, erasing you into the nothingness of mind-frayed satisfaction.

I've done well...but there's more to go. Chemical Vikings, psychology, cleaning up this bedroom, buying other people booze to get on-the-road money. Dean will be coming soon, ferrying me off to New Jersey and a town that he describes as being Twin Peaksesque.

Let the townsfolk and Bob come, finals have me halfway to being nuts already; my genes take care of the rest. Soon it will be time to grab the rubber ducky, bathe in jello, and spend some time with my friends Jack Daniels and Jim Bean. Oh yes, I will blow this pop-stand.

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