Of Bruschetta, Drumsticks, and Bikes

I think one of the most fantastic elements of living and working in a college town during the summer is that essentially, its a throw back to younger days. Seriously. My work load is about a quarter of what it is during the school year, things are laid back, people wear tank tops to the office.

I behave like what is, for all intents and purposes, a ten year old kid most of the time. A ten year old kid with a credit card and the ability to buy alcohol. I see movies during the week. I walk to the store to buy drumsticks and eat them on the way home. i throw one person tail gate parties in my parking lot with a bottle of wine (I don't have a porch goddamit). And I t.p. my boss's house. Just kidding I don't do that. Yes I do. Anyway, I am essentially the Walt Whitman of San Luis Obispo. (I'm not entirely positive he had access to drumsticks, but he sure was a fan of the lollygagging).

There isn't really a purpose to this post other than to give you a rare glimpse into the life of the Scrap. And to make you people working corporate jobs in LA something to shake your fist at. You may get paid 100k, but admit it you are still sippin' on hatorade. Because its 4:00 and Im going home to make bruschetta for a potluck with friends. Suck on that.