Crazy-ass townie

The other day this crazy guy with a "DEA" hat on strolled up onto the main field in the center of the campus with a suitcase that had "Bushwackers" written all over it and a bunch of coat hangers stuffed into his pockets. The guy walks up to me and stands really close and mumbles something about bubbles. At first I think that this guy is just having trouble talking because of his wicked-ass braces, which looked like his orthodontist just glued some bottle caps to his teeth and tied them off with barbed wire. After the guy incoherently mumbled some more shit about bubbles, I realized that it wasn't a bad braces job but his jaw was wired shut. I finally figured out that he was trying to make a point about personal "bubbles" or comfort zones. He started to lay out his coat hangers around a fish sculpture because, quote "He's from here, and that's his big fuckin' fish." By "here" I believe he meant Walla Walla. All my doubts about him being completely insane went out the window when he started yelling something about Air Force Ones and how he loved the sunshine. Then he called somebody a faggot. I feel like if you are insane that you can get away with a certain degree of bigotry simply because 1) you're insane and 2) since you're insane, nobody knows what you might do if they call you on it. I can just imagine some Whitman student walking up to this guy and saying "Excuse me, that word offended me." Most likely this guy would have taken a shiv out of his boot. I'm not joking, since my friends and I were weary about fighting him simply because we were pretty sure he had a knife somewhere. This guy did him damndest to try and pick fights, but ultimately people started treating him like any rambling fool on the street; people started ignoring him. Now, I'm not saying you should ignore all crazy people, but if you wander around like a damn fool yelling nonsense, don't expect me to fucking tune in all intently and listen to your opinion on how lentils are going to take over the moon base. I tried to humor this guy when he came up to talk to me, but after a while it kind of wanders into your head: "hey, this guy probably had this same conversation with a doorknob. What the fuck am I still doing here?" But since we're all taught to be polite and pay attention when people are talking to you, I stood there like a jackass while this guy related his theories on how tadpoles is the winner.

On another note, we won the Tamarac Outdoor Film Festival again, this time with the sequel to Born To Ride, Born 2 Ride: Double Fault. DVD's are gonna be sold in the bookstore soon if everything goes as planned.