new years eve

Is lying about your New Years Eve plans tantamount to going to hell? I would rather stay in my bed and pig out, than say hang out with certain people. I hate driving long distances – especially when I know it will result in me getting angry and not having anything that resembles a good time. Some might say “Get over it!” about the distances thing, to that I say “FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING WHORE, YOU DRIVE TO ME THEN!” Sorry, tiger got out of the cage.

Superbad is my new favorite movie! I love Seth and Evan. Well, Seth a bit more. His rage and indignance soothe my soul. (Yes. I have one, but thanks for accusing me of being the anti-christ.) Especially the part when Seth says “No one's McLovin. McLovin's never existed because that's a made up dumb FUCKING FAIRY TALE NAME, YOU FUCK!!” Oh, how I love thee.

I secretly think I was meant to be a boy. I love beer, action movies, sports (lets clarify that one, watching, no participation) sweatpants and sex. And no, I’m not confessing my preferred sexuality, unlike some of my friends that I think just need to admit shit already! Get over it, you like girls. And your little innuendos creep me the fuck out! Stop it!

Did I just out someone in my blog? Does it count if I don't use names? It just makes me really uncomfortable. If I do ever switch teams I would never in a million years go for the likes of you! Sorry.

Moving on. So its New Years. Woo freaking hoo. Seriously bullshit holiday. I have no one but my dog to kiss at midnight. And I'm ok with that right now. I'm just glad the holidays are over!

Oh and the next person who says "See you next year! Ha Ha Ha!" is going to lose a vital organ. It's not funny.

leprechauns

You'd have to be a fucking heartless communist robot not to cry when you see P.S. I love you. Some people have no emotions! Or otherwise they're partially dead. Either way your fucking hardcore if your a woman and not cry at that shit. It's like gut wrenching. Maybe I'm just damaged.

Why is it even with my heart o' stone I cry like a maniac at movies like that? I have an illness, I love sappy movies. I also love Gerard Butler and Jefferey Dean Morgan. So unrealistic that she had such a sexy man buffet! Oh I'm sorry your Spartan died so you get Denny? Oh and for S&G's we'll throw in Harry Connick Jr. just to mix it up. What a hooker! I want a fake Irishmen. A leprechaun if you will...

Speaking of leprechauns - well, not so much them but rather being Irish. Do I look like I tan? No I don't! I do one color and I do it well, pale. I am. I can tan all you want but it just looks ridiculous on me. Seriously. Deranged Umpa Loompa. I just added the deranged thing, because I am.

Other notes on my mental history; I hate small talk, I hate having to give bullshit compliments, I hate social interaction. Unless it involves drinking, dancing and making bad choices. Choices that I'll regret in the morning, whether it be my intense hang over or waking up in places I'm unfamiliar with. Has happened on a few occasions. Aren't those mornings fun? "How the fuck did I get here, and where are my pants?" Unfortunately those words have come out of my mouth more than once. I'm a whore.

I tend to go off on tangents and rant about random things. But lets spend a few moments on Jordin Sparks, shall we kiddies? (I hate kids too! You might be wondering what I don't hate, I'll post about those later.) She is a lyrical genius... Your on my heart just like a tattoo, I'll always have you? I give her props for being a singer and not conforming to the size two attitude, who knows how long that'll last though. But I can't stand her. I was going to go on and on, but lets just leave it at she makes me want to vomit when I hear that song. Gag.

P.S. Satan is not a whore, but it feels good to call her one. Especially when you can see in her eyes that she's contemplating it. Hee, sorry dear. It just makes me laugh. Your far from it. Your a saint. We're going to have parks and libraries named after our goodness. Ok, not so much goodness but rather your idea to donate tons of money.

free therapy

So I’ve decided that this is going to be very cathartic for me. I am going to use this free outpost as a sort of therapy session if you will. I know no one will read it so this helps. (No one will see how actually crazy I am, yay!) But, if there is someone out there who reads my ramblings, please see this as a cry for help and contact your local authorities! Just kidding, put the phone down. I know one day I’m going to make an inappropriate joke about going down the tracks and not across the street and I’m going to get shit for it. But that’s just how I roll. Get used to it baby!

If anyone could actually hear the inner monologue that is my anger, well then I feel sorry for you. I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not my fault! (See my last post on my spotty mental history.) I’m a happy and functioning semi racist, terminally angry, inappropriate sense of humor type of gal. Oh and functioning & happy were just words I made up. I am neither. Bitches. Ha, look I just called you a bitch and you took it.

Ok I’m cutting myself off. I know I’m obnoxious, but my friends love me dammit. And my parents too! Well at least I think they do, they’re such uncaring individuals and cheap too. Love that they don’t really know how to turn a computer on so they’ll never read this. Oh and if you print it off and show it to them I will kick/punch you in the babymaker.

On a separate note I’m somewhat of a drunk. So from time to time if you hear me recant some of my exploits/adventures please don’t contact your local AA. I don’t care that I have a problem and until I die or my drinking results in someone else’s death I won’t be seeking help. But thanks for caring!

“Inappropriate behavior makes me laugh!” – Will Ferrell

a quiet riot

I have come to terms with the fact that I am bipolar. No I haven’t actually been diagnosed, but crazy runs in the family so sufficed to say I’ve just decided. I’m moody. I have moments where I’m completely normal (meaning people don’t look at me like I’m going to take out a hospital wing of toddlers) and then there’s the times when I just can’t be consoled and I want to murder just to see my shank dripping blood. You know for the S&G of it. Here is just a sample of things that can and have set me off.

Colby Calliet – I will bitch slap the shit out of her if I ever have the chance I swear to god. I know you people love her and “she is so adorable and totally captures what it’s like to be a woman” and whatever but come on. I’m a woman, I hate her. And if I hear ‘Bubbly’ one more time in its entirety I will snap! You’ve been warned.

Coldplay – I know I’m classified as a whiney bitch, but come on guys what’s your excuse?

Jack Johnson – I know he’s all original and prolific but I can’t stand him and his soft gay tones. Or his lyrics being called genius. Fuck off.

Traffic - The fast lane is for people who intend on going faster than 5 mph over jackass! Oh and when did using a blinker become so hard? All it takes is the flick of a finger, are you really so cool and all of us telepathic so you don’t need to use it? I DIDN’T THINK SO.

People who lie – I lie, I lie all the time. It works for me. But when you catch people in lies and then having them gloss over it like you didn’t just catch them sets me off. I know your games you arrogant prick or stupid whore. Pick which ever term works at the time.

Work – I really don’t feel like the stipend you give me bi-weekly is enough to cover me being nice to people. Or working for that matter, oh and if you value your life… which most of you don’t – don’t ask me why so sad looking or tell me that I look really tired. I know. And I know how to cut car brakes to make it look like it was an accident, k thanks!

Those are just a few but I really needed to get that off my chest. Especially that hooker Colby! Play new songs on the radio, not ones that sixteen year old girls call to request and then automatically squeal at the end. What’s with the squealing? Did you win something? No you moron, so stop yelling at decibels that make my brain cells scream “KILL, KILL, KILL!”

Back to the I’m moody thing, I really am a moody bastard. It’s no ones fault. No one really knows what will set me off but when it happens it’s a glorious thing to behold. My blood pressure rises so I turn all red and then I yell & babble incoherently and make angry gestures. I really think I look like I’m having a stroke but whose to say I wont actually have one someday? So next time I look red and stutter about hating people and hoping they all die, just ask me some questions to clarify my health is not in jeopardy. Please I beg of you.