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I definitely shouldn't be writing in here tonight. I'm trying to finish as much of the book as possible to turn in on Friday afternoon but I'm feeling procrastinashish again. I have absolutely nothing to record really. My left arm is fucking killing me. It was that last rep on the hammer curls that just should not have been. I think I'm slowly destroying my joints.
I can't seem to bring the transmitter thing into the enemy base in Starcraft. Now it's really beginning to piss me off. I want Gauntlet Legends now damnit. I can't wait till June.
The dude at the register at the Borders Cafe is really fucking strange. Odd how really friendly people are considered strange. The way society is, if you're rude or obnoxious, you're normal. I really should try and be nicer to the world. I think I'll start by not glaring at the newly elected slutt bitch at work.
New Slutt Bitch is one odd case. She genuinely could be a James Bond villain. She dresses like a slutt and looks like a slutt, but you can't help but acknowledge the fact that you'd like to shove your hand up her skirt at the same time.
Whoa! *keanu voice* Watchdog just went. Gonna crash. Mayday mayday, we are going down, repeat, we are going down.
But anyway, yeah... You ever run into someone like that? You know they're attractive but you don't want to admit they're attractive because as a human being, they disgrace the earth we live on?
I saw Slutt Bitch at the movies last week and I know she saw me, and she just has that "I'm hot shit" smile and she doesn't say hi or anything. I should've poured mochi crunch down her shirt.
I have to make doo doo.
I should smoke a cigarette before Gramma wakes up.
Oh, Hairy Editor turned in his story for class. I think he's trying to get back at me for making him the main character in my book. He added in a "fragment" using my real name and everything, and my character is that of a midget assistant manager whom everyone hates and has stubby arms and short person compensation syndrome or something.
Umm, I objectively think that that one's a case of sour grapes. I mean, my main character (which is based on him) is actually a quite accurate portrayal of people like him and on top of that, I think it's still a workable story, not just an inside joke. And I'm genuinely working, trying to make his character more likable, and he's gonna turn out to be a much better person than he is in real life, so I don't know what's the problem here. His on the other hand, it just reeks of someone trying too hard. I'll be willing to bet two million dollars that if he's really intent on making a workable story, he's gonna have to delete that portion. He's just doing it to get a rise outta me. I really don't mean to toot my own horn, but in this specific case, the Hairy Editor shouldn't try this kind of parody cause honestly, I can fiction-write circles around his ass. (I mean seriously, I know, honest to God, I'm not all that, but let's put it this way. A coma patient could write a better novel than him.)
I mean, gawd, haven't we outgrown the youths-doing-drugs genre yet?!
I swear, after this class is over, I really gotta fucking avoid him already.
The main fallacy for human beings I think is pride. All that can be considered a personality glitch stems from vanity and pride. I think the less things that you actively love about yourself, the nicer person you are.
I really must learn to love myself less.
Well, I mean, not literally... Nevermind, just nevermind.
Moving on...
I must invest in a disposable lighter. I have a billion cool lighters that have been given to me as gifts but I have no clue how to re-fill butane. As far as Zippos go, I'm just plain lazy. I'm the only hard-core smoker I know how's constantly annoying people going, "Got a match? Got a match?"
5:30 am Computer crash.
Whoa! *keanu voice* That was a close one. I was outside smoking a cigarette while the computer re-booted and I heard a crash in the bathroom: Gramma dropped something! She was up! This is pathetic. Me and my mother are older than the dinosaurs and we still have to sneak cigarettes behind my grandmother's back.
Was kinda neat. The lights went out in Borders for a split second. I like it when the electricity goes out in public places. The last time it happened, I was in high school at Kahala Mall. That was neato. Everybody was just kinda making house, sitting on the ground outside the stores, waiting for everything to turn back on. It was like camping out in a shopping mall.
I just rubbed Purell anti-bacterial hand sanitizer on my hands. It's the children's one, mint-scented. You think it'll hide the smoke smell from Gramma?
This is just leading nowhere, isn't it?
Ten Things I Hate About You was funnier than I thought it would be. It's nice to see the theaters deluged with Shakespeare interpretations. Still, I kinda agree with Roger "fat boy" Ebert: it seems every movie these days end at a prom!
My favorite line: "Does she have beer-flavored nipples or something?"
Spunker
Aaron's Movie Reviews 2
