like a shitty van wilder

This morning, after violently coughing up a thick, goopy ball of green drink, I saw three orange butterflies arranged in a circle, slowly flapping their wings in unison. I’m pretty sure they were conducting a séance or engaging in some sort of telepathic ménage à trois.  It was the second nicest thing I experienced this week.

Last night, my school advisor informed me that although he said two weeks ago that he was fine with me working on my senior project away from campus, he has since changed his mind.  He told me, "I know you just want to get out of here, but it sounds like you just want to get out of here." 

That sounds like a Ballatician$ lyric.