this sucks

okay. so i was supposed to go visit my best friend on saturday. problem was, i had to work. i tried like hell to find someone to work for me and i could not. i went over to lynsie's to tell julia that i would not be able to go to st paul with her and brandon and taryn. but then for some cockamamie reason, i decided, fuck dairy queen, i'm going to st paul. so we all get up at 4:30 in the morning and me and julia scribbled on like way too much eyeliner to make our eyes as black as night, for she was going to see her boyfriend, and i just like to put way too much eyeliner on. so we get down there, she sees her boyfriend, we go to visit my best friend, but can't find her anywhere on campus, so since the others, who happened to be turtle people, wanted to go back to this dreadful town we all live in, we headed back, and i was on the verge of tears. because of the whole thing, i almost lost my job, and i'm grounded for 2 months, which is complete bullshit as far as i'm concerned. so i've been just generally very angsty about the whole thing, and i sulk around school. this sucks. i didn't even get to see my friend.

Welcome to the Blackened Lung Club

so me and my friend julia have this grand plan to get all our friends to quit smoking. we are, at every turn, surrounded by second-hand smoke, and are constantly being offered a cigarette, because we smoke too. we are suffocated at every turn, subjected to the sweet, hazy cloud of slow smoky death. so we are going to find on the internet a picture of a blackened, shriveled, diseased, cancer-ridden lung, and distribute it to everyone we know and all over our campus. i myself am going to post this picture on my wall (if i can miraculously discover some open space that was previously hidden by a pile of clothes or something) and i am going to look upon it every day to help ME to quit smoking. of course after all this hard work of finding the picture and shoving it in everyone's faces, me and julia are going to need a cigarette.

Edgar Allan Poe is in My Best Friend's Sock Drawer

so edgar allan poe is in my best friend's sock drawer. supposedly because he is a smug little bastard. she bought a plush likeness of him to give to me, but the distance that separates us is depressingly great, so i have not yet come to remove him from a socky death. furthermore, i am still in possession of a black tee shirt emblazoned with Che Guevarra's face, which i purchased in Chinatown in new york and which i relinquished to her (whose name is laura) as a going away present. moreover, i still have in MY cd thing laura's Ani DiFranco cd, and if i'm not mistaken, she still has both my Flogging Molly cd's. it's like that time that i forgot volume 3 of the manga Naruto at her house, and then she moved away, so i didn't see that thing forever, because there was no fucking way i was going to go over to that frightening middle-class lakehouse and risk having to share words with her parents, even though i knew in my extradimensional consciousness that her older brother was urinating on my book.

endless pools of popcorn

i work at a theatre. oh yes i do. and when i first got the job, which i wanted because i allegedly thought the carpet was pretty rad, i was told that i should always tell people to "enjoy their movie", much in the way that one tells all dairy queen customers to "have a nice day," even when you really feel no such positive sentiments and when you just want them to fucking die. what i find funny about telling people to enjoy their movie is when they reply, "thanks! you too!" that just makes my day. it's like, you know what, i really dont' want to be here right now and there is no way for me to ever enjoy my movie because even though i get into the movies free, being an employee and all, i never actually have the time to go and see said movies because i am always working, constantly trying to make more and more money in a neverending cycle of capitolism. how bourgeois! i never have any time even to sleep! don't tell me to enjoy my movie, you futile, optimistic biznatch! not even if it's a slip of the tongue! because by jove, i would run away from all of this and do nothing but travel around the world, to everywhere that i have never been and never will be if only i could. because i am forever trapped in this economic prison, this endless cycle of routine and stress and boredom and emptiness. but i don't say any of this, of course. i just smile and hand people their $200 bag of popcorn and ridiculously overpriced chocolate as i tell them, "thank you! enjoy your movie! i hope it will be better than your pointless life spent deer hunting and driving your kids to soccer practice, a life followed by cold, inevitable death and the annihilation of everything you've worked for!" but you know what, Constantine IS pretty funny. i've heard it's just like the Matrix with demons.

"really lame narrative no one cares about" #3

my night, in a nutshell: me and 3 friends spent the night at a friend's house, got lost looking for a party involving six kegs and a lot of college students which got busted before any of us even found the place, came back and watched part of a movie, got a panicked call from our friend whom we shall call Callie explaining that she had lost our drunk and puking friend whom we shall call Molly at a different party, so we went to search for Molly and found her at her boyfriend's house, so we then went to country kitchen, for we were hungry minnesotans, went back and watched another movie, went to sleep at 5 in the morning, got up at 7:42, went to bemidji to visit the university and our friend Tabby, wandered around in a haze of sleep deprivation, and finally came back to where we dwell, so that i might drink lots of caffeine and wish i had some aderol because i have to work late tonight and get up ridiculously early tomorrow so that i can go down to the cities for a student senate trip lasting 2 days on which i doubt i will get any sleep. FJKLAS;JOIUF;LSADLF;EHJ[OIK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i really like skittles! i need some skittles!

a question of skydiving

i have an issue. in my profile it says that one of my interests is skydiving. and i was looking at it thinking, that really is a silly thing for me to say, since i have never actually GONE skydiving, it's simply a matter of me wanting to go skydiving so badly i can taste it, like bile rising in the back of my throat at the sight of a dead body. or something. i am, however, very interested in going skydiving, it is simply the course my life has taken which has prevented me from doing so for the past 19 years. i still feel it necessary to clear that up so that people aren't like, "hey, man, you wanna like, go skydiving online?" to which i will have to reply that i am a lowly fast food employee with a major dead platypus complex.

tacotacotaco

okay. so i have a blog. it's very surreal. the thought that anyone would possibly read the meaningless drivel that is sure to come out of my head makes me doubt humanity even more. but i guess, if my best friend can have a blog, then by Jove, i can have one too, because i know that there will be at least ONE person reading mine. or something. this morning i just saw this girl that i work with, that i don't really like all that much. i don't have any delusions that she is fond of me either.i think she merely pretends to be nice to me. she was sitting at a computer, and i was helping a friend turn on a computer, and for a brief, indiscernable interval, our eyes met halfway in that manner that eyes meet when two people who recognize each other notice the other's presence but neither person has any real motivation to acknowledge it, other than perhaps some preestablished expectation of politeness. this happens to me quite often. and it made me think, what sort of person does that make me? does it make me real? does it make me fake when i actually DO say hi to certain people? and as i thought about all of this in the blink of an eye, i realized that i really do not give a damn, because IT'S TACO TUESDAY!!! taco taco taco tacotacotacotaco taco!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!