Oh my god, y'all. It's fucking cold here. Yeah. 63F constitutes as fucking cold in the Ring of Fire. I couldn't tell you why South Florida is included in the Ring of Fire, since said Ring marks areas high in volcanic activity. South Florida is included in this Ring despite the fact that I'm pretty sure there are no volcanoes, active or otherwise, in Miami. Eh. It's most definitely a tropical zone, though. I'm not used to 25 mph winds blowing at my face. Seriously, it's practically April. I thought my hoodie was going to remain in my closet 'til next December, possibly November. It was in the fucking nineties last week, people. What's up with this? I keep hearing Jon Stewart in my head, saying, "Global warming, HUH?!" Heh.
Speaking of Rings. Man, I was at Blockbuster (I know, I know, they suck -- but Lion Video is far away from my house, and it was the weekend, so no school, so it's not in proximity to any place I was going), and this little girl, she couldn't have been more than nine, she turned to her mom and said, "Let's rent The Ring for Daddy and me!" And then, I swear to MisterSatan, she does a perfect impression of Samara and scares the crap out of me by whispering, "Seven days." And I yelped. And she giggled. And she's a cute little girl, but I think I peed my pants a little. Okay, no, I didn't pee my pants. Well, maybe just a little squirt. No, I didn't. Seriously. My panties were clean. Spotless. Not a urine stain in sight.
Okay. Where was I? Right, Blockbuster. I wanted to rent Frank Herbert's Dune, the Dune made for the Sci-Fi Channel. I didn't want to see it because David Lynch made the only movie of his I ever hated, and, I don't know. I've heard good and bad things about it. I Tivo'd Children of Dune, so I have about 800 hours of Dune to watch. At least this doesn't have Sting, right? Ew. Sting.
Ah. I got an F on my language development test. Fortunately, I can retake it, but that sucks. True, I still have a B average in the class, but... Ouch. I mean, there are only two questions on the test. It's not comprehensive at all. There is absolutely no margin for error. I hate that.
Oh, well. But I had fun at the fair with CyberTammy on Saturday. I think it's interesting that every carny sounds alike. It's the chainsmoking, I think. The fair did give me a headache that I couldn't shake, and I'm a poet and didn't know it. Byron came to my house a little while after the fair. Let me tell you something, liquor does not make headaches go away. I drank multiple vulgar virgins. Byron taught me the drink. It's a total drink, and he said, "I know I'm a fag, hon, so just... drink the girl drink." It's pink lemonade and lemon gin on ice. It's so good. Plus, it has a kick ass name.
I only had one vulgar virgin by 8, though. Byron asked my mom if she wanted to watch figure skating with us, and she did. She loves figure skating as much as we do, and I grew up watching that stuff with her. Gymnastics, too. Sasha Cohen breaks our hearts. If she gets her shit together and stops falling, she will be the greatest figure skater out there. Nancy Kerrigan had the same problem with falling, but once she saw a psychiatrist, her skating subsequently improved. I think Sasha might have an anxiety disorder. I mean, if you look at her face when she gets on the ice, it's a rictus of terror. Poor girl.
Sarah Hughes has a total butter face and isn't very good at figure skating. At all.
Ah. My brother is fucking in love with me for the gifts I got him. I wasn't going to get him anything, just a card, because he didn't get me anything for my birthday, not even a card. I'm petty like that sometimes. But my mom told me he wanted to know what my wishlist was, and he wound up getting me an Insomniac DVD, the Whatever Happened to Mr. Show book, and the Trading Spaces DVD. I got him three AC/DC CDs for the price of two, those new digitally remastered "digipak" re-releases. And I also got him a Mekaneck. Strangely enough, I stumbled upon a whole mess of limited edition Mekanecks with the green visors. They show the Mekaneck with a clear visor on the box. Only a thousand were made. I got him one, but... I also bought a dozen for myself to sell on eBay. They're going for $200 apiece on eBay, people. I just put one up for auction 20 minutes ago, with the price starting at $1. It's already jacked up to $40.50, dudes. Man. That's more than twice what I paid. I'm going to be rich. Don't call me a capitalist pig. I'm merely an opportunist.
Rich, I tell you. Mwa ha ha ha ha. Smithers! Get me my fuzzy leopard print slippers! And the blueprints for blocking out the sun!
Mwa ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Speaking of Rings. Man, I was at Blockbuster (I know, I know, they suck -- but Lion Video is far away from my house, and it was the weekend, so no school, so it's not in proximity to any place I was going), and this little girl, she couldn't have been more than nine, she turned to her mom and said, "Let's rent The Ring for Daddy and me!" And then, I swear to MisterSatan, she does a perfect impression of Samara and scares the crap out of me by whispering, "Seven days." And I yelped. And she giggled. And she's a cute little girl, but I think I peed my pants a little. Okay, no, I didn't pee my pants. Well, maybe just a little squirt. No, I didn't. Seriously. My panties were clean. Spotless. Not a urine stain in sight.
Okay. Where was I? Right, Blockbuster. I wanted to rent Frank Herbert's Dune, the Dune made for the Sci-Fi Channel. I didn't want to see it because David Lynch made the only movie of his I ever hated, and, I don't know. I've heard good and bad things about it. I Tivo'd Children of Dune, so I have about 800 hours of Dune to watch. At least this doesn't have Sting, right? Ew. Sting.
Ah. I got an F on my language development test. Fortunately, I can retake it, but that sucks. True, I still have a B average in the class, but... Ouch. I mean, there are only two questions on the test. It's not comprehensive at all. There is absolutely no margin for error. I hate that.
Oh, well. But I had fun at the fair with CyberTammy on Saturday. I think it's interesting that every carny sounds alike. It's the chainsmoking, I think. The fair did give me a headache that I couldn't shake, and I'm a poet and didn't know it. Byron came to my house a little while after the fair. Let me tell you something, liquor does not make headaches go away. I drank multiple vulgar virgins. Byron taught me the drink. It's a total drink, and he said, "I know I'm a fag, hon, so just... drink the girl drink." It's pink lemonade and lemon gin on ice. It's so good. Plus, it has a kick ass name.
I only had one vulgar virgin by 8, though. Byron asked my mom if she wanted to watch figure skating with us, and she did. She loves figure skating as much as we do, and I grew up watching that stuff with her. Gymnastics, too. Sasha Cohen breaks our hearts. If she gets her shit together and stops falling, she will be the greatest figure skater out there. Nancy Kerrigan had the same problem with falling, but once she saw a psychiatrist, her skating subsequently improved. I think Sasha might have an anxiety disorder. I mean, if you look at her face when she gets on the ice, it's a rictus of terror. Poor girl.
Sarah Hughes has a total butter face and isn't very good at figure skating. At all.
Ah. My brother is fucking in love with me for the gifts I got him. I wasn't going to get him anything, just a card, because he didn't get me anything for my birthday, not even a card. I'm petty like that sometimes. But my mom told me he wanted to know what my wishlist was, and he wound up getting me an Insomniac DVD, the Whatever Happened to Mr. Show book, and the Trading Spaces DVD. I got him three AC/DC CDs for the price of two, those new digitally remastered "digipak" re-releases. And I also got him a Mekaneck. Strangely enough, I stumbled upon a whole mess of limited edition Mekanecks with the green visors. They show the Mekaneck with a clear visor on the box. Only a thousand were made. I got him one, but... I also bought a dozen for myself to sell on eBay. They're going for $200 apiece on eBay, people. I just put one up for auction 20 minutes ago, with the price starting at $1. It's already jacked up to $40.50, dudes. Man. That's more than twice what I paid. I'm going to be rich. Don't call me a capitalist pig. I'm merely an opportunist.
Rich, I tell you. Mwa ha ha ha ha. Smithers! Get me my fuzzy leopard print slippers! And the blueprints for blocking out the sun!
Mwa ha ha ha ha ha ha!
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
And David Lynch's Dune is just misunderstood. It's brilliant, dammit, brilliant.