dialing for dollars

As the year winds down and the holiday season is upon us, I find the need to reflect upon something that has to do with neither… the drunk dial.

I mean, this is no small matter – even Wikipedia has an entry for it. go ahead, look it up. you know you want to.

the question lies with intention. It’s a full out epidemic – peaceful reveries everywhere are being interrupted at ungodly hours – but why? My friends and I have long debated whether a drunk dial from a boy means, (1) that the boy has no balls and can only get the balls to call you (his one true love, of course) when he’s drunk, or (2) that the boy’s balls are constantly tangoing with his dick, and the boy doesn’t really want to call you at all but for the fact that it can mean a direct connection with your vagina.

I’m inclined to think that, for the most part, the intention can be either of the two or some mix or neither. So it’s one of those ‘it depends’ answers, which is an all-around shitty answer anyway, because it’s not the kind of answer Americans like – hard and fast, yea or nay – but it’s the answer we always get… are we winning the war in Iraq? well, it depends (on the day, on whom you ask, on the time of day)… can I come over and make sweet, sweet love to you? well, it depends… wait, who is this again?

I’ve received many a good drunk dials, which reminds me of a rule that should be enacted – if you’re going to drunk dial someone, and they do not answer, for god’s sake leave a message. It makes for such good sat/sun morning entertainment. If you took the effort to dial while drunk, at least slur a few words into the phone, heck, tell me what your drunk dial’s intention is… or that you’re jacking off thinking about me (by the way, should that be taken as some sort of weird compliment or as just gross??) or something. Be a sport.

Drunk texts are also fun. One boy's drunk text even asked – is drunk texting as bad as drunk dialing? to which I think the answer is no… it’s worse. Dialing – the effort involves finding the contact and pressing the big green Send button. Texting – involves choosing Messages, finding the contact, typing what you want to say – some cleverly disguised variation of “I want to be on you” – making sure the phone is typing what you want to say (doubtful – “Dixies” comes out as fixidr on my phone… so if I’m ever at fixidr, you know where to find me), and finally pressing the big green Send button.

Much more effort for texts – much more intention, whether good or bad … I guess, well, it depends.

to be sure, I’ve definitely done my fair share of drunk dialing, and what was my intention? They’re many times to boys who don’t even live in Charlotte, so I really have no clue. maybe I just want some late night confirmation that someone out there wants to be on me. and no inhibitions get in my way of confirming my altogether goddess-like sex appeal.

then again maybe it’s just drunk dialing. Nothing more. Just another thing that happens when all good decision making gets washed away with ___. ah, is it cocktail hour yet? maybe I’ll call you later. I’ve been known to try to get my dog to sing to you when drunk at the homestead.

a fever you can't sweat out

So… I’m sick and “working from home” this morning, but with a high fever, it’s hard to get motivated/started. So my computer prompted me to download internet explorer 7 when I turned it on just now, and it was taking forever, so I was clicking on random things that didn’t involve the internet and got to a folder called “emails.” Well, looks like I was a lot better at archiving things back in college than I am now, because there were various documents: “Dad’s emails”, “personal emails”, etc. along with a few saved IM conversations (no making fun.. you know as well as I do that relationships have started, lived, and ended by those things. I wouldn’t be surprised if religions have been founded, wars been waged through THE instant messenger). Anyway, then there’s one titled “[insert ex’s name here]’s emails”. So I’m thinking, wow, I saved those? and open it up.

And… well, damn. All I can say is that I have no right to complain about any unfavorable treatment I get from guys nowadays. I had a guy who really cared about me, and, though it didn’t work out, I do know that all men are not, in fact, assholes. And while I know our going separate ways was for the best, I just regret that I may have hurt him, and, in mine and my ex’s case, I know I was the asshole, not him. I never cheated on him or even thought to do so, but in some way I think I cheated him out of something…. what? I really couldn’t express it in words, but something. And, the thing is, I might be getting cheated out of something now, too, but I deserve it, and he didn’t. I hope he knows that i did and still do care about him, that I’m sorry, and that he deserves better. he’s a good guy… a better person than I will ever be. no shit.

so, I have no right to complain and will not anymore. life’s been pretty good to me, and karma’s a bitch, yo.

ugh, i've been up for half an hour now and i think i need a nap. night night.

why i wish i had been born with a penis instead

‘tis the season to be jolly, right? right-i-o, then.

now, I may expose more about myself than I should, but I’m feeling really impelled to spread some holiday cheer, so I’m about to make you feel a lot better about your current situation, whatever it may be, and here’s warm wishes that it’s cheery and bright.

2 weekends ago, a guy who I thought was a halfway decent person (why am I such a stupid, stupid girl), turned out to be not, as my friend overheard him saying some not very nice things about me, all the while trying to get me to go home with him - after sending his girlfriend home crying. it made me feel like complete and utter shit. he also complained all night about how he’s too young, at 25, to be dating someone seriously. I hope he dies alone. no, no, not really. I do not wish that upon anyone. what I mean is…. I hope he marries a supermodel, who gains 167 lbs. after birthing their first child, who ends up being a gay version of ricky martin. yes. that will do.

This past Friday night, i cabbed it home by myself and got molested by my cab driver (not completely violated, but he reached around the seat the whole time and kept grabbing my hand and touching me and telling me how pretty he thought I was and asked me to get in the front seat and to lean forward so he could rub my back, and I am, thus, traumatized for life). Luckily he did bring me home (after asking for my phone #... NO, you CREEPY, OLD GROSS ogre gross), but I still felt sorry for myself, and fell asleep with my head underneath my Christmas tree (happy place).

Saturday I spent all night ignoring a guy who followed me up to my apartment on Halloween night (yes, a red sweatshirt & sweatpants & a blue pom-pom wig did constitute the majority of my costume) and fell asleep on top of me (also should mention that he was dressed as a vampire and therefore had FANGS); he called me 3 days later; I never called back; his friend informed him of how creepy his unrequited behavior was; I purposely avoided him all night Saturday, along with his hideous friends, one of whom we aptly nicknamed Jaws.

The kicker – tonight, the horrible fang boy called me asking me out on a date.

OH
MY
GOD.

I will never understand it. Dating does not go, 1) be completely ignored by girl, 2) ask girl out on date. Classic. my life. is. classic.

meanwhile, my phone remains void of normal boys’ numbers, the Colts lose, the Giants lose, florida wins, and I can’t get anything constructive done b/c i spend my small amount of free time writing about my misery to try to make myself feel better.

Merry Christmas and a Happy Hannukah/New Year/ Hope For Some Semblance of Validation for Living!

(also, thank god for my girls, who have been there to console me. I might be dead without you. seriously.)

*

BCS standings comments…

when did Hawaii get in the top 25??

when did vatech sneak all the way up to 14? and 2 above wake forest??

Tennessee is finally above cal again – there IS justice in the world

our 3 losses: #4, #5, #9 – too bad there are no asterisks in this life, only scoreboards…

(you heard that on Entourage)

I do not know how much I like the idea of us tentatively going to Outback bowl – as much as I like Outback and all, I do not like the prospect of being so frenzied at 11am on the first day of the new year. of course, new year’s days have never been my specialty..

florida st. is going to the Emerald bowl……… hahaha (yes I know we did not go to a bowl game last year, but still)

since we are apparently too stupid to go to playoffs yet, I vote for no rematch in champ game, even if usc loses to ucla. that would just be stupid. but.. florida or lsu in champ would be stupid too. we need a damn playoff!

soulsuck

just a quickie.

the Zales commercial is RUINING lives. something should be done.

Every time i hear that soulsuckingly awful vanessa whatsherface piano music, i think about how no one is going to buy me diamonds for Christmas.

And when guys hear the soulsuckingly awful vanessa music, they think about how much they do NOT want to buy diamonds for girls for Christmas but will probably be pressured to anyway.

And when girls hear the vanessa music, they think about how, even though they want diamonds, they do not want the crappy ones they show on the Zales commercials, but the strategically placed mall-display Yurman ones they saw, which they will pressure boy to buy for them, and boy will either: (a) hear the incessant soulsuck music playing in his head like broken record and accidentally buy a Zales diamond and be forbade sex for month of January, or (b) buy it and cause much bleeding of wallets and .. uh.. gnashing of teeth .. and stuff.

it's just soulsuckingly AWFUL (much due credit to rolling stone magazine for that phrase, which was used to describe clay aiken's new album).

to be sure, my unnamed friend who may be hoping for Yurman for certain occassion is NOT soulsuckingly awful and should get a Yurman since I am, to be sure, NOT.

vacant

so, i'm vacating. i guess the correct verb would be vacationing, but vacating seems more appropriate. Apartment, Charlotte, work, mind - all have vacancies if anyone's interested. the past 2 days have gone something like:

930 - wake up
10 - get out of bed
1005 - eat breakfast, read paper - front to back, including editorials, target and best buy ads, and completion of crossword, cryptic thing, and word jumble (my dad has reign over sudoku - if even 1 number is filled out, he gets pissed) . keep in mind this is JCity newspaper, so does not really take that long if i do not try to find all the grammatical errors.
1130 - work out
1230 - eat lunch (mom has made)
100 - shower (extortion of hot water)

besides that, i watch tv (have DVRed all of this week's south parks and family guys. i really need to get a DVR), read, check email, eat, and buy food with my mom's money.

i mean, i love to travel as much as anyone else, but THIS is what i call a vacation.

some random thoughts:

- i'm reading a book where, yet again, a Charlottean is portrayed as the dumb Southerner. i mean, really, these ppl must have never been to East Tennessee. our waitress at Ruby Tuesdays today asked my dad if he wanted a Millers Lite, and when my mom asked her for a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, her face wrinkled up like we had just asked her why she believes in Jesus.

- if you ever watch football whilst running on a treadmill, remember to stay focused, because when the refs blow whistles to stop a play, it makes you want to stop, too.

talk about it

It's currently costing about $2,000,000,000 per week for the war in Iraq.
$104,000,000,000 per year.

In August the Senate failed to pass a bill to increase the minimum wage from the measly $5.15 to $7.25 per hour over the course of 3 years (albeit was coupled w/estate tax cut, so, a stupid political bill anyway).

$104 billion per year = 6,896,551 people paid an annual salary of $15,080 ($7.25 per hour).

$104 billion per year = 8,547,008 people paid an annual salary of $12,168 ($5.85 per hour - what the min wage increase would have been in the 1st year of enactment).

If you want to be more elite, $104B could be

• 7 million more scholarships to universities
• $5.2 million more funding to each of 20,000 public high schools
• money spent finding a cure for cancer.
  

About 1/4th of your income goes to pay taxes.

i'm just sayin...

and i won't go into calculations for the $300,000,000,000 that has already been spent.

i also like writing out all the zeroes, because they stare at me mockingly as i hear my ringtone in the background - yeah, it's all about the benjamins, baby.

red, independent, and blue

so, I know no one wants to hear my opinion on the election, so I’m not going to say anything. I’m just going to type it. you don’t have to listen.

you may have a lingering hunch that I’m a democrat through and thru considering the way I bash dubya through and thru. very very untrue. I am a staunch non-affiliate. proud of it, too, in the way that college GDIs are proud of not being Greek.

my beliefs, like (I believe) so many others really are, are not encompassed in one party or another. I’m very fiscally conservative (CPA, hey!), though I support an increase in minimum wage and do not (unlike my father) think all Dems are commies. I think women should ultimately be able to decide what they want to do with their bodies, but I also do not have a huge problem with people having guns (bullets kill, not guns.. – chris rock?).

The major problem I have with political parties is that definitive line of opinions. If you vote for a certain party, you vote for a whole ishload of things you may not 1- agree with, 2- care about, or 3- even know about. and so, democracy is flawed in the same way American Idol is flawed – stupid people vote for someone because he’s got nice hair, knows how to work the stage, and sleeps with one of the judges.

The other major problem I have with political parties – people, whether it’s because they had household influences or found religion or because they’re black or Mexican or gay or trust fund endowed or East Tennesseean, align themselves with one party or the other and constantly vote “straight down the party line” no matter what incompetent nincompoop is running on the ticket.

The thing I like about the parties – let’s take an analogy. Everyone loves an analogy. Jesus really loved analogies. There is a company. It is called, hypothetically, Coca Cola (red). It has a competitor. It is called, hypothetically, PepsiCo (blue). Coca Cola decides to start using toxic waste in its soda. PepsiCo calls them out on it and captures some of their market share. But then PepsiCo’s CEO gets caught with his dick in an intern’s mouth. Coca Cola publicizes the shit out of it, to the point that he finally gets fired, and they take some market share back.

See? In a word, accountability. Parties provide competition and, thus, accountability. Ahh, the capitalism of democracy. yesssss.

So, the election. In a word, glad. In a sentence, glad that the ads will stop and that laura bush and daryl waltrip will stop calling my mother’s house, glad the House is blue, don’t know how I feel about control over the Senate too. Political changes like this have a direct affect on my job – those damn taxes. While I don’t think anything major will happen in the next couple years, if a Dem wins the presidential race in 2008, then I can’t imagine what that will mean for tax reform. Just writing the word “tax” makes this too dry, though, so I stop.

we’ve still got our very own handpicked idiot in DC (or ranch) heading it all up; at least Condi finally, after many discreet notes were unheeded and accidentally used as TP, sat down with him for a while last night and told him to get rid of that scarlet letter Rumsfield:

"Seriously, George, you can't just keep wiping your ass with everything I say just because I'm a woman."
"But people laugh!"
"I know, George. I know."

life is easy

life is easy. because:

Monday
- was a bad day because I forgot to hold my breath for the whole walk through the stairwell in the parking garage (homeless urination hot spot. i know, v. gross. luckily, not proven)

Tuesday
- was a good day because I got one of my favorite parking spots in the garage – next to the lined-off no parking spots, where i am at ease knowing no one will open their car door into mine. into the left side anyway.

Wednesday
- was a bad day because it took 3 minutes longer to get out of the parking garage because everyone else with a life was trying to get in to park for the Bobcats’ opener

Thursday
- was a good day because I remembered to hold my breath through the stairwell. And I got free lunch. and football and new Office and new Grey are on tonight. ohh, very good day.

life is hard

life is hard. because:

friday
- had to figure out what to wear for weather forecast of "100% heavy rain." (answer: jeans tucked into black effme boots, tank top, hoodie, and UT baseball cap)
- had to run across Tryon St. twice (in black effme boots) to catch cab home. would have been 3+ times if not for ashley's cab-catching and people-warding-off skills

saturday
- had to lie in bed for over an hour trying to figure out how to procure food without having to move. finally threw on sweat pants and windshield-sized sunglasses (thank god for windshield-sized sunglasses) and attempted to drive to chick-fil-a and back during Gameday commercial. (failed)
- had to avoid lots of direct flesh contact with all the girls dressed up for Halloween as Whore. Princess Whore, Policeman Whore, Nurse Whore, Cheerleader Whore, even Firefighter Whore. The creativity of twentysomething girls these days is AMAZing

sunday
- had to remove (despite usually loving being surrounded by orange) the myriad orange jello and punch stains spattered haphazardly around my apartment, including bathroom mirror and wall (vaguely remember the latter being my fault). ironically, i used Glistening Citrus Orange Windex
- had to figure out how long i passed out for this afternoon on the couch and if it was a dream or not that i was at the pool with my mom and she was telling me i should go kiss a boy sitting across the 3 feet deep section
- had to wonder how hot you have to be to date a professional football player and then break up with him when he essentially gets promoted to Dallas Cowboys Quarterback. i mean, in America, the ranking goes 1. President, 2. Bono, 3. rap moguls, 4. Oprah, 5. NFL quarterbacks. Well, I guess it makes sense. i mean, that's the reason i don't date NFL quarterbacks - i like to keep my options open. you know, for someone better to come along.

and tomorrow i get to start my work week again to earn my keep so i can continue to look forward to these hard weekends.

go big ORANGE

life might be pretty pointless and inane, yes...

but that isn't going to stop me from making orange jello shots for saturday! wooooooot

Happy early Halloween! go carve a pumpkin and celebrate... I heard it was Satan's super sweet 16 at the W.

compiling a grocery list - orange jello, orange solo cups, grey goose l'orange, maybe some felt for my costume..?, chips (orange?) - gah, this is the perfect color for the team that is finally going to beat spurrier again. Or else l'orange jello shots might end up being v. bad idea.

never gonna get it

why.. WHY are we so stupid? and I don’t mean in the eating ice cream in lieu of dinner way (current event), but in the going to war way, the killing of others way, the intentional destruction of life sort of way.

I just watched a segment on the History Channel about the flag raisers of Iwo Jima. And it gave me a renewed sense of why we watch such garbage on tv: because it’s 1, easy and 2, entertaining in that feel-good way. Easy on the brain, easy on the eyes, easy on the emotions, if you will. Kind of like the surfeit of ice cream I’m eating right now, except on the tongue, not the eyes.

I almost changed the channel to “America’s Next Top Model” because it was just so damn sad to see footage of those men – no, those boys – being killed so brutally. I don’t know why it hit me hard tonight as opposed to other times I’ve seen similar footage. And it’s a different effect than a movie, because even then, you know it’s not real, even if based on real events.

But then I thought to myself, my god, look at what these marines had to go through, to live through, to fight through, and all I have to do is watch it. My god, my god, if my lazy ass can do anything, I can sit through an hour of this narrated history that so many had to actually live out (noted also that I did sit through about … 15 hours of football between yesterday and today).

But it made me sad. And mad that we let war happen, over and over again, throughout history. We never learn. Robbing lives from boys who haven’t had the chance yet to go to college or to get married or maybe even to get laid for the first time. And that’s kind of funny but really just very sad because that’s what life should be – experiencing good things – when, for them, life ended with and among and because of really bad things. Not to mention the mothers. The fathers too, but for some reason it’s the mothers who really hit you, who you know had such hopes and aspirations for sons who otherwise had the whole world in front of them. And died instead.

I’m glad I watched it. I’m reminded that, though clichéd, freedom is not, in fact, free (and there are too many graves to prove it). And that’s never really been so apparent to me as it is now, as I realize that North Korea or Iran, among others, could nuke us any day now, and we could break out in a world war again and be stripped of freedom, which is, of course, a freedom to live without an overarching daily fear of death.

But, to be sure, life has had an overarching feeling of frustration for me lately. It just all seems so vain, so purposeless; I swear sometimes, most times, even when good, I just don’t get it.

fictional dialogue, fictional people - avoiding reality is SO vogue. ok, a perpetual vogue.

voted by me as best quotes from last- and to-night:

South Park -
ike: you'redeadtome
kyle: what??
ike: i SAID, you're DEAD to me
kyle: What??
ike: You're DEAD to me, KYLE!

not a quote, but the playing of Afternoon Delight while panning in to Ike and teacher in bathtub was hilARious

The Office -
Dwight: Ryan, come back!
[Ryan leaves]
Dwight's cousin: He seemed like a nice guy.
Dwight: Where are all the animals?!

Grey -
Izzy: I'm a multimillionaire, George. I'm not going to buy him a CD.


also, i do admit that i love Ike, as well as jim halpert on The Office. Little did I know so many other (crazy, no-life, delusional) people love jim as well. Facebook retrieves 57 groups when you look up "jim halpert." voted by me as top 5:

5. Jim Halpert is the Reason I Wake Up in the Morning
(Type: Common Interest - Beauty (??); the creator's picture is half the fun; 55 members)

4. When I Grow Up I Wanna Marry Jim Halpert
(grow up??; I especially love the detailed attn to capitalization in this title alongside the use of "wanna"; 40 members)

3. JIM HALPERT FOR PRESIDENT IN 08
(Yes, because jim halpert IS a real person; now I have my own presidential race - Jay-Z head-to-head with Jim Halpert; 21 members)

2. I'd totally go to the Halpert-Beesly Wedding!! Scrantonicity will be there!
(omg, what?!?; 14 members)

1. I Have a Man Crush on Jim Halpert
(Type: Just for fun - too much information; luckily, only 17 members)


my god, what IS this world coming to that these groups exist and that i BLOG about them??

point to it

Ck out what I read in my Creative Loafing tonight, an article by David Swerdlick titled, "President Carter":

"... But what if Jay-Z ran for president? I mean, the bar is set pretty low at this point.

"Granted, he probably doesn't have the subject matter expertise to head up a cabinet-level department. But the specific job of president is fast becoming a figurehead position -- and uber-spokesmodel for this or that point of view ... If he wanted to, he could easily win a Congressional seat in NYC, bide his time until Republicans run some gimmick candidate, then Democrats counter with 'H to the Izzo ...'

"... I can see him now: fresh-pressed, white guayabera shirt, summer weight slacks, Gucci sandals and a lit Cohiba robusto, walking down Main Street in Baghdad with Beyonce, Chelsea Clinton, and Zara Sheikh, sampling the local cuisine, low five-ing little kids, and dapping-up street vendors. Then, sitting down for a libation with politicians and clergy, all of whom ask President Shawn Carter to autograph their copies of The Blueprint. You never know..."

Keeping in mind the article's brief but suitable mentions of Dr Dre & LA Reid, VMA acceptance speeches, Brad Pitt's refusal to marry Angelina before gays & lesbians can legally wed, Nikes, and the less-than-ideal state of foreign affairs..., if an alien came to America-town today, I would give him this article and say, Here, this should about sum it up.

Then the alien would look at me all confused, either 1) because, like most non-Americans, he doesn't get "it", or 2) because he can't read English, which wouldn't surprise me since the illegal aliens working at both of the Uptown Subways can't seem to learn FIVE WORDS: pickles, lettuce, tomato, cheese, and olives........... the BLACK things for god's sake! those!! at least get rid of the glass so i can point to them!

bienvenido a Melee-i

college football at its finest, folks.

a little background: within a pathetic conference - when handling pigskins and sanctions - known as the ACC, there exists a highly overrated team, Miami, which bombs it big-time this season. They first lose to big-time rival FL State, which was a big-time game at the time, but now that both non-big-time teams are unranked for the first time since like the 1970s (relegated to the catch-all of overrated teams - the "Others Receiving Votes" category), it was really a stupid game to begin with. They then go on to win against FL A&M, which is a school I've never really heard of (for a reason), lose to Louisville, eke out a 1-point win v. Houston (yes, like Memphis, known more as city, not football team), "revenge" last year's loss v. UNC, and, last week, pound Florida International. literally. with football helmets and cleats and expletives flying around like flies around a horse's ass (see youtube.com).

So much so that all the espn writers and commentators just could NOT restrain themselves from using the word melee in all their recounts of the on-field battle. I, myself, would've used internecine brawl, since it has more syllables and makes me sound smarter and is just as appropriate.

Anyway, the best thing to come out of the whole debacle were the comments during the i. brawl from Lamar Thomas, a (former) Miami TV analyst, whose following words were broadcast live on CSS (but will, saddeningly, not be broadcast again):

(Notes before reading:
1. Thomas is a former Miami player.
2. Florida International, despite its name, is not international nor across any oceans - it's across town from UofM.
3. The sound byte is even better than the transcript.
4. Apparently Thomas made references to the "OB", an acronym for the Orange Bowl (Miami's piss-poor excuse of a stadium that stands awkwardly in the middle of an uninviting, unattractive ghetto), many many times (nostalgically, I'm sure).)

"Now, that's what I'm talking about. You come into our house, you should get your behind kicked. You don't come into the OB playing that stuff. You're across the ocean over there. You're across the city. You can't come over to our place talking noise like that. You'll get your butt beat. I was about to go down the elevator to get in that thing ... I say, why don't they just meet outside in the tunnel after the ball game and get it on some more? You don't come into the OB, baby. We've had a down couple years but you don't come in here talking smack. Not in our house." (see espn.com)

oh man it makes me laugh every time. The sad thing is, poor Lamar got fired, and I'm pretty sure he just got hired before this season's start. I have no clue why on earth you would choose to fire the guy when he provides so much entertainment. I mean, he was just putting his "heart on his sleeve", as he commented. It was all about heart. No condoning violence.... but... I bet his heart-on-sleeve would've been the one leading him down that elevator shaft.

But that IS why i do so love college football - so much heart. which used to sound humanistic. now, i become bellicose humanist.

Also, we have no problem with airing countless r-tard reality shows that debase human values at their utmost core, but we have a problem with a guy who gets caught up in the moment and blurts his heart onto his unassuming sleeve?... and is more entertaining? i mean, isn't that reality tv at its best anyway?

Also funny - at first, Miami suspended 13 of its players for 1 game b/c of the melee (heh). That one game happens to be against ........ Duke. Ha! That's like telling 13 fifth-grade boys that they can't go play badmitton with the fourth-grade girls.

OK, also funny - when you open up Florida International's homepage, one of the headlines is, "The Path of Nonviolence." Referring to Indian religion. Funny.

Ok, 1 more funny thing - the Forde Yard Dash, by Pat Forde, which is always fantastic, but does a great job this week labeling UofM as Thug U and FL Intl as Thugs In Training. Fantastic.

Scroll down a little in the Dash and get a taste of the rip on Georgia I'm going to make later. yeah, Uga can kiss Smokey's ass ... and the Commodore's, i suppose. ok, well, he can kiss mine at least.

monkey see. the end.

every time i watch extreme home makeover, it makes me feel like a lazy, inconsequential son-of-a-bitch of a person.

then i change the channel and realize i feel that way because i am that way. hm.

you're not fat. just the wrong species.

look what I found on msnbc pictures of the week... the LITTLE one is 270 lbs! i don't know why it amazes me so, but it did enough for me to want to share it. now we all know that if an elephant wants to cut in line, not to mess with it.

laura’s deep thought of the night.

the thing, the great thing, about laughter is that it’s like an orgasm.

it’s only worth anything if its genuine, if its elicited by the right stimulus. you can’t fake it. a fake laugh is just uncomfortable. it leaves a bad aftertaste. your company might be pleased because they think they’ve made you laugh, but really you’re just upset that not only was nothing funny, but the company thinks they’re funny when they were absolutely not.

but genuine laughs. those are the best. pure, simple, human. moments to live for and what not and what all. they make us human. what is there in life but a good laugh? sometimes I start to feel inhuman. then something makes me laugh.

like jim dangle’s shorts – or, rather, legs – on Reno 911! or the picture of me, Kristen, and Leah doing the JC Penney’s catalog pose. gets me every time.

(... the analogy was over like 2 paragraphs ago, just to avoid confusion)

.... unrelated: who else loves that version of "somewhere over the rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole?? Also, new songs by Luda, The Red Suit Apparatus, the Killers, Frankie J, Mario Vazquez, the Raconteurs, and Fort Minor aren't bad. happy with the normally sub-par selection of new songs out.

1/56ths spent blogging?

I mean, the more i think about it, the more i think that life is just meant to be unfair. I spend 1/4th of my life on my period... so i spend 1/4th of my life bleeding and unable to have sex - an injustice in its highest form. So what if that's what needs to happen for me to reproduce - what about me?? so unfair, no one ever asks me how I feel... I also spend 1/24th of my life getting "ready". Getting ready for what? for the world to see me. Considering that 5/7ths of those 1/24ths are spent getting ready for work, that means i spend at least 2.9762% of my life just getting ready to go somewhere i don't want to go. Not going to calculate the time actually spent at places I don't want to be because ... why would I waste my life doing that?

Lately all i want to do is eat and sleep. what a glorious life that would be. if I ruled the world, there would be 50% sleeping and 25% eating and 25% of whatever you really enjoy doing in life, besides sleeping and eating. dancing, fucking, walking on the beach, whatever. you choose. let's just hope some people really enjoy manufacturing mattresses. and farming.

eat, sleep, die... eat, sleep, work, love, die... eat, sleep, work, buy nice things, buy love, make love, make love work, work, buy, sell soul, die. Prost!

a little upset my Oktoberfest glass did not get back to my apt with me. But, all considering, much worse could have been left behind.

in totally unrelated note, really ashamed that albert haynesworth went to UT. who does that?

not drunk enough to preclude blogging

I have been drinking for 12 hours now. and it’s kind of riduclous when you think asbout it ebecause it’s not like anyone really should be drinking for 12 hours straight. and I have to say I’m pretty proud of myself for making it this logn and also for making it home by myself, all pure and chaste, but still no one should be dirnking for 12 horus straight. yeah. that’s what I think. what, bitch??! I’m over it. and you don’t even know what I’m over, most of you, but I dknow, and I know I’m over it. bevause I said so. jover. done. peace out

oh, and you better be glad, person who requested drunk post, because i did this for you~!! yes, all for you, like a sister hazel song.

ahhhh it's october! ahhhhhhh
time flies when you're durnk.