boot camp starts tomorrow, 9am. given how single-mindedly I devoted myself to accomplishing absolutely nothing this week, I think I've got this Latin shit on lock. apparently the competition will be extensive (32 out of a possible 40) but I'm pretty sure that none of these suckers will see me coming. or maybe they will. either way, they're going to be like Ultra Magnus fumbling with the damn Autobot matrix of power and getting wrecked because they can't figure out that you're supposed to put your fingers in the finger holes. so while Megatron will probably smack them around, I'll be turning into a sports car with a big fucking trailer at the drop of a hat and calling myself Jeffrimus Prime. also, flames will come out of my exhaust pipes.

after meeting Martha and Mark Matt for Thai brunch (complete with awesome metal tokens) I now believe that we should probably be known from here on out as "The Oregon Trail Generation". if there's anything that can tie together anyone from about age 19 to 25, it's the fact that every single goddamn one of us played that game (and really only about a third of us ever made it to Oregon as anyone except the damn banker who could fucking buy everyone all the way up and down the trail. which is dirty, but effective. also true to real life). but if you ever meet a stranger about this age and want to strike up a conversation, drop some Oregon Trail shit on them. now I only ever got to play the ghetto version that wouldn't let you control the hunting yourself. but my kids died of diptheria just like everyone else's. so I'm not going to get all reverse-elitist on you and claim that I am better than you because of this. that's not my style.

look, I'm pretty much just floundering around here trying to kill some time whilst Drrty Tina does some reading from the Stanford Law Review about third wave Feminism or something. I can't really claim to know much about feminism. but according to DTina's old track coach, Zhao, "Jeff, he understand woman issues." this judgment is based solely upon the fact that he took us out to dinner and I let her out-eat me. let might be something of a euphemism, because K-Boo is famous up and down Berkeley-town for having something of a hollow leg when it comes to eating. or drinking.

sweating is up 78% and bleeding from shaving is up 750,000,000% (est) since coming to Berkeley. on the up side, sun exposure is up 240% and walking exercise is totally off the charts. further bulletins as events warrant.