Atheistjustin Rambles

Hey fucks.

School’s in full swing and this last semester has already reminded me that I hate life.

These next few weeks bring upon us sorority Rush season which is where you find 18-22 year old women cheering, singing, and clapping in unison. These weeks are what I imagine the entering gates of Hell look like.

I don’t really get whats in it for girls when you join a sorority. More rules? More money spent? For what? Sisterhood? Is that even a real thing?

Every sorority I’ve ever involved myself with has 4 cliques of girls which hate one another and the amount of shit talking between vagina’d persons is at least double that of the unGreek vagina.

I will say though my time as a Fraternity man would be nothing had it not been for our involvement with the sororities, so maybe I’m just full of shit.

Just a giant blob of shit talking shit.

So anyway, I’m taking 16.5 credits this semester. Why?

Because 2nd semester freshman Atheistjustin only received 10 credits. The other 6 went towards alcoholism, laziness, and hours of FIFA. My mother is so proud of me.

I was actually picking classes recently and, since I was moving stuff around, not everything was available.

I needed 1 last philosophy class to satisfy my minor (ass-eating) and the only 2 classes left were Epistemology (which was a Friday morning class) or Intro to Feminist Philosophy.

Oh Jesus.

Feminist philosophy.

So my options were either to sit in a room full of feminists, and the wide range of people that may be in that ideology (pink haired, man-hating lesbians), or to wake up every Friday morning and forfeit my last semester’s 3 day weekends.

I chose the Friday morning class.

Thankfully, another class ended up opening and now I only have 2 days of classes with my 4 other classes being online.

Online classes are the best because you can basically bullshit them for 40 minutes, while in your underwear, and walk out at the end of the semester with an A.

I can safely say that’s exactly what I did for my Dance Appreciation Online course.

Yes. That IS a real thing.

Some fun news- I am officially a bartender in the New Brunswick area and will now be starting my bartending career as the Monday guy at the Olive Branch.

I have no idea what a Monday afternoon looks like at a college bar. I really have no idea. Is it busy? Empty? Whose drinking on a Monday night? Are they okay? Do they need help? Did I leave the stove on?

I’m assuming working as a bartender on a Monday will eventually lead me to having some stories to tell. We can only hope for the future of this website that it generates some content.

As you can probably tell, I really don’t have much to talk about without getting too intimate about my genitals, so I’m really just rambling around here.

I literally took a break to eat a massive dinner (2 pieces of toast and some jelly I found in the fridge that expired 2 weeks ago) and maybe think of something to write about. But I’m fucked.

All of my energy is going towards playing Call of Duty.

It’s taking over my life.



I’m thinking about writing another book- but then again I’m also thinking about Call of Duty. So there’s an issue.

I’ve been trying to learn spanish this year, which obviously requires daily practice. But, then there’s this playstation just staring at me, yearning.

It yearns.

God this post really sucks.

I guess I’ll leave you with a picture of a Llama.



Published by J. Cassidy Hawthorne

Writer. Former stand-up. Sommelier.

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