Rock and Roll.

I thought that my History of Rock and Roll class would be all about Steven Tyler hiding heroin in his scarf on stage.

Axl Rose running around half naked on stage complaining about the world.

Ozzy biting heads of chickens.

Guess what, its not like that.

I have to remember 25 songs from the 1960s. The artist, the track name and the genre by tomorrow morning at 9.

And by genre, I don't mean country, rap or rock and roll.

I mean vocal jazz, teen idol, splatter platter, Lieber and Stoller and Phil Spector.

I'm going to fail.

Sex, drugs, and rock and roll... kids.

Girls.

I hate them.

I do.

Battle Born

Today I was super patient all through class when all I wanted to do was run to Wal-Mart and buy the new Killers album.

Finally, after my radio broadcast, I drove straight to Wal-Mart and guess what wasn't there.

BATTLE BORN.

Sold out.

I don't know if I'm more mad or more sad.

Also, I don't know if I'm mad at Wal-Mart or mad at Snow college. Maybe I'm just mad that the universe hates me.

FML.

Damn you, Greek.

As I'm sure you know, I am a huge fan of the television program, Greek.

That being said, college was a cold hard bitch slap of truth.

Where are the parties? Where are the crazy live bands playing in peoples back yards? Where are the cool guys passed out on my couch?

In Greek, the semi good looking nerds get hot girls all the time. I'm a semi good looking nerd who can't even score a semi good looking nerd girl.

They're up all night partying while I'm up all night comparing and contrasting R&B music to Western music in the 1920s. And math? I never once saw Cappie and the Beav studying math.

Come on college, lets Greek it up a little.