Huh, I am not going to blog about CPW. I don't know, what can I really say about CPW that no one else has
already said? Basically, CPW freaking engulfed me. Like it was a mad intense phagocytosis of fun. Ugh, why do I say things like that? AP Biology and I aren't friends.
Well, there's a lot I could say about last weekend, like how I ate so much that I got food-pregnant, or how I crowdsurfed at Battle of the Bands, which is like being molested by fifty pairs of hands, or how two of us went to Burton 1 and helped someone celebrate his 21st birthday by scratching off $21 in lottery cards, which netted $7, a brilliant negative fourteen dollar profit.
But instead, I'm shifting focus back to the real world: high school. Coming back to Marshfield, Wisconsin after spending four days in Cambridge, Massachusetts was definitely one of the strongest buzzkills I’ve ever experienced. And I’ve gone drunk swimming in December.
Okay, I'm a compulsive liar.
So I've never actually gone winter swimming after downing some beers. But what I have done is decorate a scientific model of a human being's muscular system to look like Jesus.
Really.

Man, I'm not sure what the rationale is for spending two days in Anatomy and Physiology making hair! and accessories! out of clay that is either some unnatural earth tone or some even more unnatural fluorescent aquamarine. In any case, like anything that's not real work, it makes me all, "Yo, teach, did I ever say that I think your 'alternative teaching methods' are worth jack shit? Because I totally meant that your alternative teaching methods are
the shit. Oh, I'm sorry about swearing, Mrs. Hoehn."

And before you get "Oh man, Sam, I didn't know you were such a Jesus freak, I am no longer inviting you to my parties, you Puritan", the inspiration for this did not actually come from a hidden religious fervor of mine, but from E40's Bay Area hyphy classic,
Tell Me When To Go. Okay, right now, stop what you're doing, click through the Youtube link, and listen at least until you get to the lyrics from 0:35 to 0:45. And all will be clear.
Right, so that song was definitely in the finale of America's Best Dance Crew. And I definitely watched that dance every day for at least two weeks after the finale aired. Say what you want. I appreciate the Jabbawockeez like a good Filipino boy should.
Okay, so these muscle models are being judged by one of the art teachers, and I hope that he looks past our blatant disregard for the separation of church and state. But not only is the judge only 25 years old, he teaches AP Art History, so I'm totally sure he's well-accustomed to images of the King of the Jews. Or maybe he'll think something along the lines of "Damn, those dreads are mad tight." Yeah, he most definitely would. You know, because he's 25. He might even think it looks like a cool Jamaican.

I mean, until he sees that giant Star of David over the latissimus dorsi. Or maybe it's the trapezius. I don't know, could it be one of the rhomboids? When it comes to Anatomy and Physiology, my long term memory is about the same as my short term memory. About ten minutes.