Shaun Lewis: the Man, the Myth, the Legend

Tuesday is today.

Wow. Two entries in two days — I believe this is a record for me. Guilt over my slow updating has forced me to be a little more motivated about writing than usual. To those of you still reading this beast of a commentary, kudos to you. I would have become bored a long time ago.

Currently, it is raining. In fact, it is almost always raining here. Athens is the Little Seattle of Appalachia. After spending so much time here, the rain doesn’t even bother me anymore. In fact, I think I’m more disappointed when it’s not raining than when it is.

Although this has nothing to do with the rain, I feel there is a matter that needs to be addressed. I will only say this once — when you turn on a light and say, “Let there be light!”… it is no longer funny, but in fact, it is pathetic. Actually, I’m not even sure if it ever WAS funny. Now, I admit that I myself have on occasion even tried this. It’s not something I’m proud of, but I thought it would get a rise out of the Church people I was with. They laughed, but I feel only out of pity. So, the moral: if you want to succeed in life, do not use this joke.

Besides Biblical Quotations, nothing else is new. I think I am slowly gaining my energy back. I honestly have no clue what caused me to lose it, but things we don’t know are the great mysteries of life. Also, how they get the peanut butter inside the chocolate. That is another mystery to me. I mean, how does this process work? It defies all laws of nature. Before I die, I want to learn how Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups are made. In addition to that, I want to be named World’s Sexiest Man. Both of those are equally important goals in my mind.

To keep people updated on the progress of Roommate Ken’s hygiene, we are still holding at a slightly salty/little oily “smell to complexion ratio”. The little bottles of shampoo and helpful notes telling him to bathe I’m leaving about the room are not working. Honestly, I’m getting a little worried about walking across my floor barefoot now. I’ll probably get SARS or something.

Aside: Speaking of SARS, I am a little disappointed in the medical community. Whatever happened to the cool names for diseases like “Chickenpox” or “Influenza”? We’ve graduated to “SARS”? It doesn’t even sound like a disease, it sounds more like a government building. Until I see some better names, my dissatisfaction will remain. How about it, CDC?

In addition to his foul body stench, Roommate Ken’s girlfriend has been “spending the night” a lot lately. This may not sound like that big of a deal, and it isn’t. The only thing that is annoying is that I can’t burp or fart in my own room without being labeled rude. So, to combat her presence, I’ve developed a new strategy. As soon as Roommate Ken’s Girfriend (RKGF) comes over, I’m going to strip down to my underwear. And not boxers, ladies and gentlemen, I’m talking about the whites — Briefs: The Infamous Brazierre for Men.

Personally, I prefer the support of the briefs. I tried the “boxer thing” a few years back, and it just didn’t work. The hybrids, or “boxer-briefs”, are even worse than regular underwear. I’m sure that’s more than enough information already, so I’ll stop.

Anyway, I’m gonna walk around in my skivvies; hopefully, this tactic will work. If this ploy doesn’t work, I might have to break out with the big guns (please don’t read too far into that saying).

I think I have caused enough emotional scarring for today, so it’s time to end this. I can only express my sincerest regrets over the immense psychological damage that might have occured do to reading today’s entry. For the love of God, don’t picture me only in underwear. That’s a life lesson for all.