The Inspiration, or the Unavoidable Happenstance
Years ago I started blogging on that little website called myspace--remember it? No, neither do I. Later I transfered here, then I went back, then I just stopped blogging. It felt ego-centric and stupid and, really, I didn't have much to say. Supposedly I was blogging things that went along with my title (it's sometimes rough being vegan) but I didn't. I wrote emo poetry and complained about petty things. Yes, I deleted those posts.
Why resume?
1. Last year I wrote a column for the Collegian about different ways people could be better, more decent human beings. I hated writing that column every week. I was never happy with how my columns turned out and I couldn't do what I really wanted to do: rant. This seems like the appropriate venue to explore my different ideas without (or with!) proper references and citations.
2. I struggle between who I would like to be and what I do. Specifically in being vegan, being easier on the environment, and putting thought into what I do.
3. My car just came out of a 3-week stay at the mechanics, where it amassed a $1,000 bill and not much to show for it. I'm selling the damn thing before it can curse my life further, and that means I will be out of a car. And I'm excited about it.
Sub-Post Time!
The Story of Philippe, a '96 Ford Taurus SHO
by D.A. Sturges
A young girl was given a car purchased with her own money. It ran fine, although a speaker sometimes buzzed and it burnt through oil and the a/c didn't work if it was too hot outside.
One day, after being pulled over and given a ticket for having no insurance, for speeding, and having no registration, the girl takes Philippe to the DEQ to start the registration process. Philippe fails the test.
After three weeks with the mechanic, the results are in: Philippe's engine was a model built by Yamaha that Ford only used for two years. They no longer make any parts for that engine. Philippe had several damaged valves and coils and leaked oil and had some other random problems the girl didn't understand, but she understood the bill when she got it: $1,000. Yes, this was nicer than what it could have been, but it was almost more than the car was worth.
She decided to sell the damn thing.
The End.
Why resume?
1. Last year I wrote a column for the Collegian about different ways people could be better, more decent human beings. I hated writing that column every week. I was never happy with how my columns turned out and I couldn't do what I really wanted to do: rant. This seems like the appropriate venue to explore my different ideas without (or with!) proper references and citations.
2. I struggle between who I would like to be and what I do. Specifically in being vegan, being easier on the environment, and putting thought into what I do.
3. My car just came out of a 3-week stay at the mechanics, where it amassed a $1,000 bill and not much to show for it. I'm selling the damn thing before it can curse my life further, and that means I will be out of a car. And I'm excited about it.
Sub-Post Time!
The Story of Philippe, a '96 Ford Taurus SHO
by D.A. Sturges
A young girl was given a car purchased with her own money. It ran fine, although a speaker sometimes buzzed and it burnt through oil and the a/c didn't work if it was too hot outside.
One day, after being pulled over and given a ticket for having no insurance, for speeding, and having no registration, the girl takes Philippe to the DEQ to start the registration process. Philippe fails the test.
After three weeks with the mechanic, the results are in: Philippe's engine was a model built by Yamaha that Ford only used for two years. They no longer make any parts for that engine. Philippe had several damaged valves and coils and leaked oil and had some other random problems the girl didn't understand, but she understood the bill when she got it: $1,000. Yes, this was nicer than what it could have been, but it was almost more than the car was worth.
She decided to sell the damn thing.
The End.
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