Bach: Day 5

As I suspected he would, Ramsey from the start has been blatantly fudging his condition to our loyal readers (he's also been fudging other things - namely, his pants!) In an effort to display a more realistic description of his condition, I devised a plan: this morning, after being thoroughly inspired by the third movement of Bach's 3rd Brandenburg Concerto, I sneaked into the slumbering Ramsey's room with a digital camera and snapped a candid photo of him (in an effort to make the act even creepier in the event of his awakening, I removed my trousers beforehand). Luckily, he didn't wake up - apparently the Metallica has already completely dulled his senses, rendering him impervious to outside stimuli! - and I was able to capture a clear picture of the shocking deterioration of a once admirable man. As you can see below, the picture tells a far different story from the one that Ramsey has been falsifying:




Take good care to note the receding hairline, loss of vision, narrow, stooped shoulders, bone-thin hands, and homoerotic bedsheets. The picture itself, however, fails to capture the entire sensory impression. The visual effects are practically unnoteworthy when one is confronted with the pungent, feral aroma that permeates a ten-foot radius around Brett's feet.


Meanwhile, after 5 days of listening to Bach, I have come to the following conclusions:

1. listening to J.S. Bach is like studying for a calculus test
2. I want to stab myself in the face with an icepick

This is incredibly difficult.

But we must remember what the German philosopher Nietzsche wrote: "That which does not kill us, makes us stronger". Then he went completely fucking insane.