It was a perfect day

Watched Enchanted last night. Cute movie. I hope it doesn't sound gay when I say that... I would have gotten the soundtrack earlier when I got the soundtrack to There Will Be Blood, but that definitely would have been gay.

Here is an excerpt of something I am writing right now:

It was the perfect day.
The sun shone brightly; the clouds were lost beyond the mountains and thick forest that lined the backside of the campus. The smell of the morning dew was so prominent, it could be sensed through a closed window.
Ken awoke to the sound of the creaking of the wooden steps in the old dormitory. He had dreamt he was riding a unicorn, which, in place of a horn, had a black rose growing out of the top of its head. They had flown together to the mountain top where a cult was congregating to burn a man alive. This is when Ken shot out of bed at the sound of the creaking steps. The third step always creaked.
He got dressed hurriedly, throwing on his favorite grass-and-paint-stained jeans with holes that allowed his pockets to come through and show on the outside of his pants. He threw on a checkered belt and a t-shirt that read “You’re all going to hell, and I’m driving the bus.”
He walked to the next room to see if Tom had awoken yet. When he heard gunshots and explosions, he knew Tom had yet again stayed up all night playing another one of his video games.
“Tom, let’s go get some breakfast, I’m starving,” Ken yelled through the door, which was covered in tampons from the immature girls next door to him. The door jerked open, and in less than three seconds, Tom was fully clothed, standing in the doorway with keys in hand, ready to go.
“Hungry much?” Ken asked him, laughing.
“O’ course, Sir Kenneth,” Tom answered him, smiling.
As they walked down the stairs, Ken asked Tom, “Why the fuck do they call it New Zealand?”
“Ummm… I don’t know… Because the name ‘Zealand’ was already taken?”
“Bullshit. There is no place called Zealand. New Jersey, New Yrk, New Hampshire. All of the originals are places or regions in the motherland. New Mexico, well, that one is obvious. There’s a real Mexico just below us. But I’m telling you, there is no such thing as Zealand. Don’t contradict me.”
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were that serious about this whole ‘Zealand’ thing,” Tom answered, rolling his eyes as he walked out the oak double doors of the dormitory building.
Upon entering the dining hall located right next to the old dormitory, Ken first made his way to the coffee pots. He proceeded to smell the coffee in each of the nine pots in an attempt to find the strongest. There were always variations; he could tell. When he first started drinking coffee, he used a lot of cream, and a lot of sugar, but in the last few months, he gradually decreased his usage to get it to how he drank it now – black and strong.
“Once more into the break, dear friends,” Tom said as he walked over to Ken.
“What?”
“It’s from a Shakespeare play. Henry the something.”
“Oh, if you’re referring to the quote from Henry V, the third act, it’s ‘unto’ the breach. Dumbass. And anyway, what relevance does the quote have to anything going on here? Do leave me now, good gentleman,” Ken told him.
“What?”
Ken walked away to find a table when he saw Mike and Tim sitting at the bar-style seating along the back wall. “Good morrow, gentlemen,” he said as he sat down besidethem, Tom following close behind.
“Hey,” was all they replied.
“It’s too early for your wit, Ken,” Tom told him.
“Hold my seat,” Ken replied as he got up to get some bacon. He always liked to joke about how he could feel the grease clogging his arteries as he ate it.
Sitting at a table all alone in the middle of the Dining Hall was Miss Stefanie Z. Ken never knew what the ‘Z’ stood for, and never bothered to ask.
“’Tis a beautiful morning, is it now?” Ken asked her as he walked in her direction.
“Yes, Ken, ‘tis,” she said mockingly. “Can’t you speak normal English once in a while?”
“I do speak ‘normal’ English. What you speak is the bastardized American version of the beautiful English language. Have some respect for it once in a while, since England is in fact the founding country of this land. Though, for some reason, I can’t help but speak this bastardized language most of the time. I try not to whenever possible, but this country has corrupted me with its despicable ways of ruining everything that is good in this world. I preach what is good, but find myself slipping away and falling into the same rhythm of most Americans, with an increasing distaste for literature, a knack for eating more than I should, and a shortening of my speech because I am too lazy to add four more words to a sentence, just to make it grammatically correct.”
“Finished ranting yet?” Stefanie asked him. “I did stop listening after the first sentence, so you can save your breath.”
“Thanks Stef. Thanks for caring,” he said to her, laughing, as he walked away, unaware that she was serious.
As he returned to where everyone was sitting with a plateful of bacon, sticking his tongue out at Stefanie as he passed her again, he realized that they were all gone. Angrily, he threw his plate down on the countertop, shattering the glass plate. He sat on the barstool and grabbed a slice of bacon from amongst the shards of broken glass and shoved it in his mouth, along with tiny bits of glass he hadn’t realized were sticking to the bacon. He followed the slice by drinking the entire cup of coffee. As he slammed the coffee mug down, it also shattered.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to come with me,” someone said from behind him. He turned around to stare right into the face of Ogre. Or, at least that’s what they called the 6’10” security guard who looked like Shrek who worked on campus.
“C’mon, Ogre, I didn’t mean to do it. Here, I’ll give you a couple bucks.” Ken started reaching for his back pocket to get his wallet.
“What did you call me?!” The fat face of the security guard started wrinkling as he scowled at Ken, almost looking like a pug’s face.
“Um, sir, I did not call you anything,” Ken told him, not at all realizing that he had in fact called the man ‘Ogre.”
“I need you to come with me,” the man said, grabbing Ken from the chair.
Almost falling, Ken told the man, “Alright, I’m coming, I’m coming!” As they walked through the dining hall towards the door, the security guard holding him by the arm the whole time, Ken saw Tom, Mike, and Tim huddled around a table, snickering as they saw Ken getting dragged across the hall.