Oct. 21Thursday

Thirsty Thursday at Patrick’s Place has been canceled. Looks like we’ve got to find something else for everyone to do like starting your holiday shopping early!

Have a sense of humor. The nightmare before Christmas isn’t actually here yet. Oh, but it is. It is. Tonight, for F-R-E-E at the Post Theatre (on Ft. Douglas Blvd), the ASUU Presenter’s Office Free Film Series continues at 8pm with their screening of Tim Burton’s (arguably best film to date) “The Nightmare Before Christmas.”

Don’t have a penchant for twisted children’s animation films so much as human anatomy being lumped into housekeeping utilities being commanded by one of the weirdest rock stars out there? Then aren’t you the lucky one. Tonight at Shaggy’s, Les Claypool (of Primus fame) will lead Col. Claypool’s Bucket of Bernie Brains to victory over anti-jam-banders like A&E’s own Eryn Green. Lookout Eryn. he knows where you sleep…now. Claypool and Co. will take the stage tonight sometime after the doors open at 7 p.m. Tickets are available at all Smith’sTix (who, as opposed to eating your brains, just eats your wallet-cash is king-instead) outlets for $22 a pop.

You don’t have a brain or a wallet to eat? You can always donate plasma somewhere around town. Don’t they shell out serious cash for that? Go figure-evil bastards just ready to drain college kids of their blood for money. We’re down. Post party? College night at Cabana Club (31 E. 400 South), of course. Where else can you kill the sorrows of having your blood drained for booze by the sweet sounds of a piano bar while simultaneously being rewarded for simply living your collegiate, tortured life? Yeah, that’s what we thought.

Then again, you can always have the rapture scared back into it by heading down to the Nightmare on 13th at 300 W. 1300 South, and talking to their fortuneteller. She’ll show you your future: a life with an MBA, a cubicle, three kids, and a spouse who hates having sex with you after only two months of marriage. But, the fortuneteller isn’t always there. At least that’s what she told us before she took our $13, which was supposed to get us into the Haunted House. Hey, at least we know what we’ve always thought to be true: these really are the “best” four years. Post-graduate degree? Fahrenheit Suck-1-1.