Camus to You, too.

I just finished Albert Camus' The Stranger and I was a little underwhelmed. So it goes. I liked it fine. It's just that I like my absurdity to have more of a kick to it. If there were an absurdity calculator with DADA being ten and instructional manuals being zero, I'd figure that this story would land a five-and-a-half.

Then again I guess the book was no more or less absurd than, you know, existence.

Let's take a look at the last twenty-four hours of my life:

1. sleeping most of the day.

2. waking up, finishing The Stranger, and returning to sleep.

3. At least 146 worshippers dying in a stampede at Naina Devi temple as they trek to show reverence.

4. watching Boogie Nights for the first time...with my aunt.

5. scavenging the internet for T. Rex downloads for the better part of three hours.

6. Both of my best friends leaving for the beach without me. sigh.

7. new species of dinosaur fossil discovered, dubbed THE DRAGON.

8. tomatoes&steak for dinner.

9. talking to two different childhood friends for the first time in years.

10. Dirk Diggler's penis.

11. getting a text message from the Jonas Brothers.

12. worrying about college.

13. rediscovering my youth via BALLOON-A-ROONIES.

14. getting invited to an aVODKAlypse party celebrating the SUPERCOLLIDER.

15. lightning strikes 91 people in Norway.

16. dreaming of nothing-again-nothing.

There it is. Real life is at least as, if not more absurd than a Camus novel.