A post of ....whatever

This weeks assignment is to write about anything I want, so, I think I will tell you all a story.

It was a cold morning, not the frigid cold that every so often forces Clemson students to run for the warmth of the indoors, but cold non the less. A lone figure with his hands stuffed inside his jacket pockets dodged puddles as he attempted to cross bowman field. He realized he failed when he felt the mud water lap against his ankles. He tried to jump out of Bowman Lake quickly but as always it was futile and he had to finish his trudge to class with soaking wet socks.
I have born witness to this man and been him on several occasions. The moral is leave with plenty of time to get to class so you don't think that crossing Bowman field/lake is a good idea.

Without Wax,