As promised, I'm attempting to update this wretched thing. It's really becoming more trouble than it's worth, but much like the mysterious red blotches you found on your genitals after you slept with that questionable broad, its not going anywhere.
If you read the last post, I lamented briefly about my birthday coming up. Well, for those of you who are chronologically challenged, it's been over for almost a month now. Yeah, twenty one! Woo-fucking-hoo. Not quite so exciting when you've been cultivating cirrhosis of the liver since the tender age of thirteen, but hey, what can ya do?
If you're really dedicated, and have read back even farther, to where I was all cryptic and sort of mopey, kiss those days good bye. Not that things are going great or anything, but that horrible uncertainty is out of my life forever. While the news wasn't received in the most pleasant manner, and the aftermath burned like your esophagus after downing a room temperature cup of Ruble vodka (the kind that costs about $2 a pint...) it brings me comfort to have closure. It has officially been confirmed that I cannot distinguish between when a woman is hitting on me and just really a nice person. That's all I'm really going to say about that subject, simply because I don't want to seem like a chatty-Cathy. It's bad enough I've been reduced to her gay friend essentially. No no, I'm kidding. Blogger, you really suck with communicating sarcasm.
In other news, they tell me there's some sort of election going on? Ha! I'm kidding, no one talks to me, I saw it on the news. I haven't really followed an election since Clinton was running, and that was only because my big sister made it seem like it was important. By the time he was blowing his load onto his secretary's cocktail dress, I was much more concerned with finding my own plump secretary to blow loads upon and not about foreign policy.
I've seen the debates, which of course I mean recaps on the morning news. Quite frankly, I'm not concerned. No matter who is running the country, rest assured we'll find ourselves a way to hit rock bottom again. That said, I have a hard time stomaching the people that say there's no racial bias in this election. I'm sure all the 'socially aware' (see:18-34 crowd) are ONLY voting for Obama because of his stance on the important issues. I do not know enough about the aforementioned 'important issues' so I'll end what would otherwise turn into a rant at that, but we'll see what happens when the people hit the ballots. When their peers aren't around to say "Dude... if you don't vote for Obama you're a racist..."
Now now.. unclench those fists and keep reading. I'm not saying I want McCain to win either. After 8 years of Bush, we really don't need another warmongering republican to raise taxes and all the other shit that they say republicans do. Killing innocent people, eating babies, yada yada yada... There's NATO,NAFTA,FBI,CIA,WTO, and a shit load of other acronyms that are someway related to the USA. What this country desperately needs is TNA.
Yes, I did just say that American is in need of Tits-N-Ass(TNA) and I'm designating Alaskan Governor and Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin as the supplier of necessary Tits-N-Ass. Why? Why the hell not, she's a VPILF. She's got the sexy librarian look, she's got power, and she's got like five kids (so you know she's easy...) In addition to all these qualifications, she was also some sort of beauty pagent model or whatever(It was in the 80's or earlier, speaking of years with bush...). Lead our great nation into glory Saracuda, in an evening dress!
Sure, she may be a heartless cunt. Ok, sorry, that's not fair to say. She IS a heartless cunt, but that aside, I would much rather watch her from the comfort of my fallout shelter than Joe Biden. I'd like to reiterate that I have an extremely limited grasp on the issues at hand in this election, I'm just a sucker for chicks with glasses.
Maybe it's the beer or the hour, but I'd like to encourage people to be more open with their feelings. I don't mean cry on my shoulder or anything like that, but don't hide what you're thinking. The other day I was heading to class. It's 11:40 and I'm at Park St. My class is at 12, and under normal circumstances, I can make it only a couple minutes late. The train finally comes, at 11:45 and I jump on. I navigate artfully around the other outbound commuters to my favorite spot on the Green line, the handicapped spot. I was still feeling triumphant having beaten the near impossible solitaire on my ipod on the train ride up and now I get my favorite spot... things couldn't possibly get better...
Sure, the whole train smelt a little bit like Mac N Cheese right after you add the cheese and milk, but I wasn't going to let it bug me. I had a good spot, I was going to be on time... BUT WAIT! Some asshole in a wheel chair needs to be on the same train as me, at the same time for who knows what reason! They got the special ramp/lift thing and loaded his gimp ass onto the train, forcing me out of my beloved cripple corner. I decided if he got off at Arlington, I'd attack him out of pure rage. Lucky for him, a bunch of really unattractive women got on, preventing him from leaving even if he wanted to.
I let him know, through icy glares and an audible "What the fuck" when he wheeled over to me, that I was not pleased with his presence. A particularly oily women near me saw my frustration and shot a look of disapproval. I gave her a "Hey lady, when this train jerks forward my elbow is going into your throat" look and went back to sulking about the loss of my spot.
Moral of the story:I have nothing to write about...