Jeremy Price

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Journal 11

I have no idea what I’m writing, but I am writing this now because I’m afraid to log out of Moodle and be banned for another two weeks.  Every morning since this semester has started I’ve woken up and the first thing I do is try and get into Moodle, but those efforts are wasted and so is my time.  Usually I would spend time and actually write something meaningful, but I do not have time.  From my understanding, I can write anything here, so I will use this journal to vent.  I’m not sure if any other university raises tuition every semester while services are minimized. Why do I pay 75 dollars every semester for technology fees when every single time I try to use the technology provided by my school, it fails?  Anyhow, I’ll leave that at that.  Today was an okay day; I woke up and tied my shoes.  Usually I leave them tied, but last night I felt the need to untie them, and so that was the makeup for my morning.  I tied them in a double-knot, and while that may seem silly, it is very serious to me.  One time I forgot to double-knot them and they came undone while I was walking and I nearly fell into the Contraband Bayou.  There are alligators in there, and I’m pretty sure they eat meat.  I’m not totally certain that they like chicken, but I’m sure they’d eat Popeye’s if I threw that in the bayou, and that’s fine, as long as they don’t eat me or my shoes.  My shoes are very important to me because they carry me everywhere I go, and they’ve never failed me.  I just wish the Mcneese servers were so loyal and trustworthy.

Mural at Luna Live

Mural at Luna Live

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Journal 12

Today I woke up to a bird chirping on my window; that was pretty nice.  The next thing I witnessed was a stray cat come and try to catch the bird.  I think they cat is not as smart or sly as he seems to think he is; birds fly, and cats don’t.  The cat continued to prey on this poor songbird until a stray dog came to prowl on the cat.  The cat ran from the dog when the dog started chasing it and they continued to run around my yard until finally a wild boar appeared.  The boar let out a snarl and this seemed to motivate the cat and dog to band together and form an alliance; they even shook paws and did some weird ritualistic dance.  The wild boar began taking charges at this newly formed alliance, but his efforts were wasted because they were using teamwork and unity to defeat him.  I’m not sure what happened next, but before I knew it a mountain lion crept up from the horizon and all three of the other animals left, and only the bird remained.  The mountain lion’s claws are sharp I’m sure, but they were no match for the glorious dragon that came down in one swoop and carried the cougar away into the midst.  This was quite an exciting morning for me.

Journal 13

Tonight I got home to yet another dark and dreary street; the parish doesn’t have lights out where I live, so this tends to bring all walks of life through my neighborhood.  Some days there are bands of gypsies that seem to have been freshly released from a blue gypsy train in Romania.  They carry live chickens in cages while they breastfeed their young and they all seem to shop at the same department store.  They all wear the same dirty brown flowered dresses, and they all seem to take pride in their armpit hair; one lady even had French braids beautifully down her side, and I commend her on her attention to detail.  The braids held some of the finest beads I’ve ever seen.  Some were rubies, and some were pearls, but none of them were emeralds; this bothered me since I’ve always loved emeralds.  I think this woman was the leader of the band of gypsies as she was riding the tallest mule I’ve ever seen while her subordinates simply rode through on pygmy goats.  All of the animals were decorated in the finest linens and tassels, but I really do not understand how they made their way to South Lake Charles.

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Journal 15

This morning I woke up and tied my shoes again, this is nothing new, but on this particular morning I found a set of keys in my shoe.  This set of keys was no ordinary set of keys as it was the tiniest set I’ve ever seen.  I thought that this could have been a joke my roommate was playing, but it was quite the opposite.  As I knocked on my roommate’s door, there was no answer, but only a tiny squeal.  I couldn’t find where this noise was coming from, so I kept looking and looking, but I couldn’t find the source.  It was as though it was following me.  Finally I ran to the mirror and what I saw next was unheard of.  My roommate was dangling from my beard, and he was as tiny as an ant, or maybe even smaller.  I kept asking him what he did, but couldn’t make out what he was saying since the noise was nothing but a chirp.  I pointed to the spoiled milk and asked him if he had a drink, but he shook his head from side to side.  I pointed to the stale bread on the counter, and again he nodded his head from side to side.  We continued through the house until finally he pointed outside.  Upon walking out of my front door I witnessed such a marvelous site.  There was a huge pink gorilla sitting on the top of his car, and the car was demolished, but this explained nothing.  I approached the gorilla and it let out the strangest noise; it sounded like Chewy from Star Wars.  Regardless of all that, we never figured out exactly why Jacob shrunk, but we’ve made do with how things are and I just have to be careful where I step.

Journal 16

Right now I’m waiting on my buddy to pick me up from school.  I think the gorilla from yesterday broke my Jeep, but this isn’t unusual and I’m used to failure.  Right now I’m using my girlfriend’s laptop because mine decided to crap out on me again, and this mouse pad will be the death of me; every time my palm touches the mousepad, I look up to see that my cursor has decided to jump up into my paragraph and just place words wherever it pleases.  Well today will be the last day I deal with this.  I have decided to come down with swift vengeance on this particular mousepad, and upon its defeat, there will be a glorious feast to be had, and all are invited.  The only problem I see in the near future is that at some point the vegans may have a scuff with the vegetarians, and at this moment the carnivores may grow weary, but nevertheless we will come from this feast with full bellies and smiles on our faces.  To be unified is sometimes a scary thing; I never know what to cook for lunch, and the appetites of my soldiers are repressed for many days during the winter months, so it is hard to keep everyone happy.  There are plenty of nuts and berries to go around for everyone, but this makes for quite a colorful display of affection between the soldiers and their commodes.  In the end, we all have to use the restroom, and this may be the most humbling thing a man can endure.  Eucalyptus leaves are fancy, and send a delightful scent, but the koalas are not a tribe to be taken lightly.  We will endure!

Journal 17

ell, this evening was a wonderful evening.  I woke up from a quick nap to find my friend mowing my lawn, and this was just great, but I do believe he forgot that I like to maintain a constant 2.75 inch lawn, so this was upsetting to say the least.  I quickly jumped out of bed since I could see that he was cutting my yard at two and a half inches and I found this to be absolutely absurd.   I hurried outside with my broom and tried to briskly brush the grass up to the desired length, but this slowly became a failure and I resulted to dancing around a pile of the hay accumulated from the death of my beautifully manicured grass.  This was yet another failed attempt.  Knowing that there was no way to save the yard that had been cut already, I swiftly ran over to the band of gypsies and called for their assistance, but this didn’t go so well as they stole my broom and started throwing rum in my eyes.  I think the rum was also stolen.  Ultimately, I wound up saving half of my yard from the wretched human I had once called my friend, but this did not undo the damage done by the machine this man rode in on.  I know I will never get that grass back, and what’s worse is that now I have no idea what my life would have been like had this intrusion into my destiny not taken place.  But is it destiny?  Am I but the only man in South Lake Charles destined for failure?  I would like to think that any good friend would leave a man’s yard unattended and unkempt, because sometimes one quarter of an inch can make the difference between life and death, and today my grass died.


Journal 18

nce again I have woken from a lengthy slumber, and once again I have woken up to defeat.  My grass grew back overnight, and it is still raining.  I’ve made every effort possible to stop the rain, and I think I have an answer for Creedance Clearwater Revival, and that answer is, “ME!”  I will not give up until this rain stops.  This morning I have already climbed to the highest levels of my neighborhood, the big oak tree down the street, and I’ve been yelling into the heavens to no avail, so I went back home and gathered all of the flour, yeast, and powdered sugar I could muster myself to carry without sneezing.  I have thrown the entire seven pounds into the clouds to create a common cloud clot, but I am not sure if this is a thing; it did not work.  My friends all think I’m crazy, but I think they are kind of stupid, and furthermore, they are cowards.  I will stop this rain or my grass will die!  I love my grass, and not the kind that goes in a rolled up piece of paper, but the grass that I allow to grow freely in the lawn I claim to own, but whose lawn is it?  I think it’s the grass’s lawn, so who am I to make the rules.  Nevertheless, I will not stand by idly while my yard is drowning in this violent downpour of what some people call rain, but I call the flood.  I will never give up, much like a swallowed frog choking the stork’s neck.  Everyone always says I can’t do it, but guess what! The sun is shining, and there is a rainbow, but I’m afraid that this rainbow has come a little close to my lawn and I’m not certain that I want a pot of gold blocking the photosynthesis my grass desires.


Journal 19

Well, this morning seems vaguely normal. I’ve woken up to a half-sneeze and while this bothers me, it is no reason to go bother the gypsies.  There is no wild stallion out disregarding my opinion on what a beautifully manicured lawn should look like, because I have had enough, and I have poured concrete over my lawn to protect the grass from such heartless intruders.  I have encountered another problem though: the neighborhood kids seem to believe that I have opened a shuttle-run arena, and they have been out there hooting and hollering all morning, but this will end today.  I have planted a series of traps throughout my property to trap these short excuses for humans, but these short humans are incredibly illusive, so I must muster up a new plan.  I’m at a loss for words and ideas at this point.  The parents of these short humans seem to find amusement in my efforts, so I have decided to use stealth and the darker hours to plot my retaliation.  Tonight I shall dig holes in the yards of these parental units and I will bury the fecal excrement that the pink gorilla has been continuously hurling at me upon exiting my home.  This pile has grown immensely over the last few days, and it has now blocked in the Jeep previously broken by the menacing gorilla.  I do not know what will work, but I have taken an oath to protect my yard from any intruders, and this oath has not yet shown the slightest bit of fulfillment.

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