Tuesday, April 6, 2010

What A Lurker!

Call me a lurker. A loiterer. A wanderer. A roamer. A painfully bored individual. Any of these would work. What do I do when I'm not in class, not studying, and not exploring the joyous wonders of youtube? I'M LURKING, THAT'S WHAT I'M DOING. You may call it "walking in one area," or "strolling without really going anywhere," or "pacing in place," but neither of these are as mysterious as lurking...it's mysterious, isn't it?

"Hello! I'm Natasha!"
(not so mysterious)

"Hey there Natasha! What do you like to do?"

"Oh, you know, write, doodle, lurk..."
(a hint of mystery)

"Wait, what was that last one?"

(back to square one)

"No, the last one."

(trapped in that square)

"No, the LAST one."

And then I wouldn't even answer, for an answer would be unnecessary.
(oh so mysterious)

I would show them with merely my action of slowly walking off and mysteriously squinting at them, cocking my head slightly to one side, and lurking off, leaving them standing, dumbfounded, with only one thought on their mind:

"What a lurker."

Unfortunately I have not been granted the opportunity to show these lurking skills of mine to anyone else, since 1) the whole point of lurking is that you don't talk to anyone, since then your "lurking" would turn into "stopping" which leads to "chatting" which leads to my reputation as A Lurker being shot to bits. This reputation may or may not just be all in my head, but if you ever do see me, and I am walking, know that I am not walking. I am LURKING...and 2) no one really asks me what I like to do right after I introduce myself; in fact, no one ever has asked that, which really means that it makes no sense for that to be a fantasy in my head. Is this a problem? While other people's fantasies involve a scantily clad Princess Leia or being saved from the dangerous clutches of the Creature from the Black Lagoon by none other than Heath Ledger (back from the dead and hotter than ever), my fantasies involve someone asking me what I like to do. And then me lurking away. Problem? Pshh. Please. Miss New Lurker is way sexier than Miss New Booty and I'm just the only one lurky enough to admit it, except of course other famous lurkers of our times:

1. Jack the Ripper
lurker by night...killer by night...double. whammy.

2. my elementary school librarian

"What are you looking at there?"

"A book."

"Make sure you put THE BOOK MARKER where you took that book out so you know where to put it back when you're done looking."


Five minutes later.

"Do you have THE BOOK MARKER with you?"


Three minutes later.

"Make sure you put THE BOOK MARKER where the book was!"

"I will."

One minute later.

"Here, let me just give you another BOOK MARKER so you have two just in case."

"Forget it. I don't even want to read about Little Bunny Foo Foo anymore you Little Bunny Fuck Fuck."

3. Natasha Ferrier
Wait...is that my name? Why...yes...yes, it is! I have officially made it onto the list of The Most Famous Lurkers of Our Times! Why, I don't even know what to say! What an honor! What a joy! What shall I do? Shall I tell you some of my most memorable observations on my most famous lurking escapades? Why, I don't mind if I do!

Observations of a Lurker

A banner strewn across my college campus that says, "WE'RE AN ANTI-CANCER COLLEGE."

It can't be! UTC is against cancer? And all this time, I was thinking I had been accepted to a pro-cancer college, a college that is FOR CANCER. I've been tricked, I tell ya, tricked! Not only is UTC one of the colleges that does not support people dying of an incurable disease, but they are making sure that us students KNOW they are NOT a supporter of death, unlike the rumor that has been spreading about UTC funding the prohibition of research of cures for cancer.

Walking Easter eggs.

They travel in packs. Like wolves. Wolves in matching polos. But not just any polo. Polos of only the upmost pastel-ness. Baby blue. Tickle-me-pink. Innocent indigo. I-wish-I-was-a-girl-green. All huddled together. Like giant Easter eggs all in a bright Easter basket, waiting to be oogled over by all the kiddies. Oogle this, men: If you did not have a hat on your head that has had the middle of it strategically removed, I would mistake you for a colored EGG. React as you wish, I am merely being an honest fellow citizen, the same fellow citizen who is forced to look at your ridiculous Easterness when it's not even Easter.

March is Caffeine Awareness Month!

I think signs that are hung on the backs of bathroom stalls should be ones of the most crucial importance, and the fact that there is a CAFFEINE AWARENESS MONTH does not follow these guidelines. It did catch my attention, yes, but that might be less of the fact of what the sign said and more of the fact that my eyes don't usually roam around while I am seated on a commode. Caffeine awareness? Are you kidding me? Unless the point of March is to make me aware that without caffeine I would be a bitchy, brain-dead zombie, I don't see the point in making me aware, because I already know this. If I ran this country, I'd banish the entire month of March just for this ridiculousness and instead replace it with an entire new month, in which I would name: DRINKCAFFEINEORDIE, hopefully serving as a not-so-discreet subliminal message where everyone would drink caffeine and be merry and happy and have stained teeth. But that's what Crest White Strips are for.

And last, but not least: Some girl walking on the sidewalk, screaming.


Poor, poor, ugly girl.

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