My Easter Bunny Was Shot to Death

Survived Easter in a Greek Village where people show their Christian joy with guns. And I’m not talking about the occasional shooting that is quite understandable, if you take under consideration that their cars and guns is all they have to brag about — no education, no career, no happy families whatsoever. I’m talking about real guns, the ones you only see in war movies. I was surprized — and I’m not easily surprized: I’ve witnessed a police car chase in Long Beach (helicopters and all) without moving an eyebrow, a bunch of gangsta rappers arguing and pointing guns at each other in a Santa Monica recording studio without moving an inch away and a few crazy Greek Easters that prepared me for every possible situation. But this was beyond me.

A piece of advice: get a life losers.

In other news: Kathimerini’s Sunday edition had a wonderful piece on Will’s new department and faculty. My father is now happy we are going there. He’d be excited if the article was on Vima, but you can’t have it all. Apparently, learning Greek is cool in American universities. Perhaps I should take advantage of it and teach some slang to wannabe Greek lovers.

you gotta read it

Will's new hang out spot.

71 days left!

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