Dear AutoUpdate,
Stop downloading yourself onto my hard drive. Also, stop letting SysAI download itself onto my hard drive without my consent. I have a pop up blocker for a reason, you insidious, malicious ASSHATS. I'm trying to work on my take-home final for Women's Lit, fuckstains. I don't have time to look for you in my program files, click the uninstall program for SysAI, and delete the fuck out of AutoUpdate. Stop it. Stop. Stoppy. Glottal st. Op.
A man walked into the bar with a rooster in front of his , and the bartender said to the man, "Sir, you can't have a cock in here." And the rooster said, "I told him it would never fit up there, but does he ever listen? No!" I think I made that joke up, but I'm pretty sure it's unoriginal. No one can resist a chickenfucking joke. Even if a chicken isn't present. Because a rooster will peck one of your eyes out if you ever call it a chicken.
Oh my, I gave my TiVo to Byron and signed him up for another month's of service, and helped him install it because lord knows he buys me plenty of things anyway, and he doesn't get to watch much TV when he's rehearsing. I gave him my TiVo because my cable company, the cable company that used to SUCK (Adolphia -- we lie to you, and then we lie to you some more and call you crazy and hang up on you and ignore your complaints), but they stopped sucking a few months after their CEO went to jail for doing things he oughtn't have done. Anyway, they have a DVR service now (a TiFaux of their very own), and it can automatically record all of your favorite shows just like TiVo does, BUT it has more than one tuner. So it can record TWO shows while you watch a third show. So I can record Alias and The Sopranos while I watch old episodes of My So-Called Life on Noggin. And I love it. I love it like a fat kid loves cake.
There are so many things I haven't talked about in this journal. There are reasons, not all of them good: ennui, depression, what-am-I-going-to-do-with-my-life, junioritis (soon to be senioritis), depression, new job, busy schedule, anxiety, et cetera, et cetera, et al, ET, the Extraterrestrial, Entertainment Tonight. Anyhoodle, I saw Prince. I saw Prince because I like funky music. And he sang "Darling Nikki." Of course, he didn't sing the parts about Nikki masturbating with magazines, but he did sing the parts that went like this, and I sang with him (though not onstage, since we were in hermetically sealed boxes), and I jumped, and I danced, and I was so happy, and he sang it like this:
Woke up the next morning
Nikki wasn't there
I looked all over and all I found
Was a phone number on the stairs
It said thank u 4 a funky time
Call me up whenever u want 2 grind
Oh, Nikki, ohhhh
Come back, Nikki, come back
Your dirty little prince
Wanna grind grind grind grind grind grind grind grind grindGRINDGRINDGRINDGRINDGRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIND
Aiiiiiiiiiiiieee... Yeah. Byron and I hadn't ever been to the "Office Depot Center" in Sunrise. Oh, we went to the Sunrise Musical Theater dozens of times, sure, but never the Office Depot Center. Actually, I don't think I've been to the Sunrise Musical Theater since the Kids in the Hall went on tour, and that was a long while ago. In the 1990s. Yes. Anyway, Byron's boyfriend is apparently an exclusive individual, and we stayed in an hermetically sealed box that kept us away from the hoi polloi. Pro: It came with an open bar. Con: It was kind of far away from the stage. Pro: I can't think of another pro. Con: Prince pulled people onto the stage to dance with him toward the end of the show. He did not pick people from the hermetically sealed box. I was sad, but then he came back for an encore after approximately 20 minutes of keeping everyone in the dark and making us scream "WE LOVE PRINCE," and he sang "Purple Rain" for his encore, and everything was okay again. I wanted to dance on the stage, though. I wore the purple dress Byron bought me at Zac Posen's trunk show. Yeah, it was a really fucking bad idea to put a mall filled with Betsey Johnson, Stuart Weitzman, Jimmy Choo, Diane von Furstenberg, Tiffany & Co., Burberry, Gucci, Roberto Cavalli, Sonia Rykiel, and all that unaffordable stuff RIGHT NEXT TO THE FUCKING PROJECTS, but they brought us Neiman Marcus. And trunk shows. And I get to find out if Zac Posen is really short (not as short as I thought he would be), and Byron, with his disposable income and old money that will never ever disappear (seriously, his generational wealth goes back to the 16th century -- mine doesn't. Byron can afford to not work and live off of Cristal and champagne. I can afford to not work for ten years and live off of sink water and ramen), buys me pretty dresses. I tried looking for pictures of the dress, but I couldn't find my flash card. Boo. So then I googled. And I found this picture. It looks like Barbara Bush is wearing my dress. That cunt. Also, it looks like she's sitting next to Vincent Gallo. Ew. I wouldn't be surprised, seeing as how he's a hipublican and all that. Well, he isn't hip. I cringe whenever I see him. I saw that Jay Z video, and I was all, "Jay Z, why do you have to play me like that?" Why? Why is he in Jay Z's video? Also, why is Jay Z in my American History text book? I'm not making this up. On page 879 of this book, Jay Z has his thumbs and forefingers together in the international sign for PUSSY. And he's wearing a Gucci visor. Backwards. And he's really ugly. And why would anyone drop $150 on a Gucci iPod tote when the cheapest iPod only costs twice as much? People are stupid.
People are stupid, and I'm tired. And I think this is quite possibly the dumbest entry I've ever written. My apologies. Finals week makes me not smart.
I would go to bed, but I went to the kitchen to get some orange juice, and something glowing and green caught my eye. I figured it was some sort of errant electrical wiring that my cat Sidney would inevitably chew up and digest, so I picked it up. I picked it up like an idiot. It didn't feel like any sort of USB cord I've ever felt, so I flicked on the light (no lights were on -- it's late, and we conserve energy and dislike expensive electricity bills) and... I didn't really get a good look at it since I flung it on the floor right quick. It was about the size and shape of a long acrylic nail, and it appeared to have two glowing eyes that may not be eyes at all. I know it's alive because I went out to check on it a few minutes ago and it was not where I flung it. It was approximately three feet from that spot. So it's in my living room. Loitering. With malicious intent. I want to be cool entymologist girl, but I'm more like spaz who is too scared the bug or insect is going to gnaw her eyes out from their sockets.
Stop downloading yourself onto my hard drive. Also, stop letting SysAI download itself onto my hard drive without my consent. I have a pop up blocker for a reason, you insidious, malicious ASSHATS. I'm trying to work on my take-home final for Women's Lit, fuckstains. I don't have time to look for you in my program files, click the uninstall program for SysAI, and delete the fuck out of AutoUpdate. Stop it. Stop. Stoppy. Glottal st. Op.
A man walked into the bar with a rooster in front of his , and the bartender said to the man, "Sir, you can't have a cock in here." And the rooster said, "I told him it would never fit up there, but does he ever listen? No!" I think I made that joke up, but I'm pretty sure it's unoriginal. No one can resist a chickenfucking joke. Even if a chicken isn't present. Because a rooster will peck one of your eyes out if you ever call it a chicken.
Oh my, I gave my TiVo to Byron and signed him up for another month's of service, and helped him install it because lord knows he buys me plenty of things anyway, and he doesn't get to watch much TV when he's rehearsing. I gave him my TiVo because my cable company, the cable company that used to SUCK (Adolphia -- we lie to you, and then we lie to you some more and call you crazy and hang up on you and ignore your complaints), but they stopped sucking a few months after their CEO went to jail for doing things he oughtn't have done. Anyway, they have a DVR service now (a TiFaux of their very own), and it can automatically record all of your favorite shows just like TiVo does, BUT it has more than one tuner. So it can record TWO shows while you watch a third show. So I can record Alias and The Sopranos while I watch old episodes of My So-Called Life on Noggin. And I love it. I love it like a fat kid loves cake.
There are so many things I haven't talked about in this journal. There are reasons, not all of them good: ennui, depression, what-am-I-going-to-do-with-my-life, junioritis (soon to be senioritis), depression, new job, busy schedule, anxiety, et cetera, et cetera, et al, ET, the Extraterrestrial, Entertainment Tonight. Anyhoodle, I saw Prince. I saw Prince because I like funky music. And he sang "Darling Nikki." Of course, he didn't sing the parts about Nikki masturbating with magazines, but he did sing the parts that went like this, and I sang with him (though not onstage, since we were in hermetically sealed boxes), and I jumped, and I danced, and I was so happy, and he sang it like this:
Woke up the next morning
Nikki wasn't there
I looked all over and all I found
Was a phone number on the stairs
It said thank u 4 a funky time
Call me up whenever u want 2 grind
Oh, Nikki, ohhhh
Come back, Nikki, come back
Your dirty little prince
Wanna grind grind grind grind grind grind grind grind grindGRINDGRINDGRINDGRINDGRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIND
Aiiiiiiiiiiiieee... Yeah. Byron and I hadn't ever been to the "Office Depot Center" in Sunrise. Oh, we went to the Sunrise Musical Theater dozens of times, sure, but never the Office Depot Center. Actually, I don't think I've been to the Sunrise Musical Theater since the Kids in the Hall went on tour, and that was a long while ago. In the 1990s. Yes. Anyway, Byron's boyfriend is apparently an exclusive individual, and we stayed in an hermetically sealed box that kept us away from the hoi polloi. Pro: It came with an open bar. Con: It was kind of far away from the stage. Pro: I can't think of another pro. Con: Prince pulled people onto the stage to dance with him toward the end of the show. He did not pick people from the hermetically sealed box. I was sad, but then he came back for an encore after approximately 20 minutes of keeping everyone in the dark and making us scream "WE LOVE PRINCE," and he sang "Purple Rain" for his encore, and everything was okay again. I wanted to dance on the stage, though. I wore the purple dress Byron bought me at Zac Posen's trunk show. Yeah, it was a really fucking bad idea to put a mall filled with Betsey Johnson, Stuart Weitzman, Jimmy Choo, Diane von Furstenberg, Tiffany & Co., Burberry, Gucci, Roberto Cavalli, Sonia Rykiel, and all that unaffordable stuff RIGHT NEXT TO THE FUCKING PROJECTS, but they brought us Neiman Marcus. And trunk shows. And I get to find out if Zac Posen is really short (not as short as I thought he would be), and Byron, with his disposable income and old money that will never ever disappear (seriously, his generational wealth goes back to the 16th century -- mine doesn't. Byron can afford to not work and live off of Cristal and champagne. I can afford to not work for ten years and live off of sink water and ramen), buys me pretty dresses. I tried looking for pictures of the dress, but I couldn't find my flash card. Boo. So then I googled. And I found this picture. It looks like Barbara Bush is wearing my dress. That cunt. Also, it looks like she's sitting next to Vincent Gallo. Ew. I wouldn't be surprised, seeing as how he's a hipublican and all that. Well, he isn't hip. I cringe whenever I see him. I saw that Jay Z video, and I was all, "Jay Z, why do you have to play me like that?" Why? Why is he in Jay Z's video? Also, why is Jay Z in my American History text book? I'm not making this up. On page 879 of this book, Jay Z has his thumbs and forefingers together in the international sign for PUSSY. And he's wearing a Gucci visor. Backwards. And he's really ugly. And why would anyone drop $150 on a Gucci iPod tote when the cheapest iPod only costs twice as much? People are stupid.
People are stupid, and I'm tired. And I think this is quite possibly the dumbest entry I've ever written. My apologies. Finals week makes me not smart.
I would go to bed, but I went to the kitchen to get some orange juice, and something glowing and green caught my eye. I figured it was some sort of errant electrical wiring that my cat Sidney would inevitably chew up and digest, so I picked it up. I picked it up like an idiot. It didn't feel like any sort of USB cord I've ever felt, so I flicked on the light (no lights were on -- it's late, and we conserve energy and dislike expensive electricity bills) and... I didn't really get a good look at it since I flung it on the floor right quick. It was about the size and shape of a long acrylic nail, and it appeared to have two glowing eyes that may not be eyes at all. I know it's alive because I went out to check on it a few minutes ago and it was not where I flung it. It was approximately three feet from that spot. So it's in my living room. Loitering. With malicious intent. I want to be cool entymologist girl, but I'm more like spaz who is too scared the bug or insect is going to gnaw her eyes out from their sockets.
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
my ipod case is my pocket. it works real nice. gucci is dirt on my shoulder.