'Twas the night before GTA IV and all through the dorm,not a student could sleep, anticipating the following morn.
With their laptops a'glow they laid awake in their beds,while visions of ghostriding motorcycles danced in their heads.
All papers were turned in weeks before due,and all absences saved for this gaming debut.
The hallways were empty, the RAs were gone,they camped out at Best Buy 'til it opened at dawn.So I stared out my window and gazed at the stars,dreaming of beating pedestrians and stealing cop-cars.
Images of morning flashed through my head-The sidewalks are abandoned, the dining hall's dead."It's Grand Theft Auto Day," one student declares,while professors stare upon empty desk-chairs.
Back to reality, assured my papers were emailed,I fought back my urges but facebook prevailed.No friend adds or pokes, but three group invitations,And a list of requests for ignored applications.
I depend on the internet to kill some more time,Collegehumor and Youtube are favorites of mine.I even give my old Yahoo account a quick look,over a thousand BULK mails, it's back to facebook.No updates in the last three seconds- surprise,so I laid down in bed and force shut my eyes.
When out of the bathroom arose such a clatter,I sprang from my bunk to check on the matter.Away to the stalls I kicked open the door,to find my dear roommate curled on the floor.He rocked back and forth, while clutching his knees,then faintly exclaimed, "Tell me it's morning please."Back to our room I led him away,"Sleep," I whispered, "for tomorrow we play."
My schedule was cleared as strategically planned,Goodbye internet world, I'm sure you'll understand.
And as I begin to drift off to sleep,I count guns in my head, rather than sheep.Alas I remember, there's one thing remaining,my preoccupation will need some explaining.So I post an away messege that's brilliantly witty-Jimmy Craig is making a trip to Liberty City.