Monday, May 25, 2009

Snifflesticks. I feel so bummed out today.. but I'm NOT the type of person to boo-fucking-hoo into a blog for pity and attention. Bitching, however, is a different story.

I hate money. I like it, because it gets me unnecessary material items that I enjoy holding from time to time, but don't we all like money for that reason? We only hate money when we don't have any. It's like what a lot of teenagers say about their ex's that they get back together with within six months of breaking up with them. You talk shit about them while they're gone, how horrible they treated you, that you never loved them anyway, but as soon as they call you and let you know they want you back in their lives, they're the smile on your face. I'd wear money on my face... IF I HAD ANY.

I'm rather sick of starting blog posts and then never finishing them, either. My blog suddenly became that friend that you used to love talking to, but then stopped, and started to feel guilty... but you two had nothing to talk about! SHIT!!! How to mend this relationship!? You can't... you can't force anything, least especially mindless banter. I need to start carrying a journal and writing all of the things I'm thinking down. That would make for more entertainment than Cary randomly bitching. Though, ironically, that's why people call her funny. She thinks you're all weird.

Is it not funny that you can meet the NICEST people at a WWE event but the biggest bunch of douchebags at a Slipknot concert? Hey, hey now! Aren't we all angry at the same thing...? Why all the hostility!? I didn't make you angry... hell, Slipknot made *me* angry. Go stand in front of them! They didn't pay for their seat-.... stage... wait yes they did. Shut the fuck up and sit down. You aren't even old enough to be smoking that cigarette. That's why I smacked it out of your hand, dumbass. Oh, and for the record, you've accomplished nothing when you tell a bitch she is a bitch. Captain fucking Obvious.