I am seriously going to kill myself if you do not get off VH1 right now so I don't have to get up and change the channel on my TV. Please stop talking about tampons in a humorous and bumbling male fashion and being ironic and endearing by embarassing your children. For the love of god, Hulk.
So, I guess I haven't had anything to say for three weeks. I finished The Stand yesterday, so that kind of reminded me of this. (I liked it, by the way. I was just sad when Harold got the gangrene and died.)
I HATE YOU INTERNET. WHY IS IT SO HARD TO FIND THINGS ON YOU???
And my KaZaa won't connect. I'm looking at you, Metallica.
Should the next book I read be: A) Lolita (Nabokov) B) Catch-22 (Heller) C) The Metamorphosis (Kafka) D) Something else (Someone)
I missed you, consistently working internets. I doubt I'm going to do any of my homework this weekend, now. I have never been one to resist your temptations.
What's new, you ask? Well. I saw Hostel last week. Another film featuring Asian ladies jumping in front of trains, yey!
We had to watch a video about suicide today. A cardboard box full of retarded chimps probably could have presented that information in a more effective way than that video did. People are probably going to take a "permanent nap" out of spite now. WAY TO GO OCPS.
If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often) please post a comment with a completely made up and fictional memory of you and me. It can be anything you want -- good or bad -- but it has to be fake.
When you're finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people don't actually dubiously claim to remember about you.