2002-06-06 - 10:56 a.m.
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What are we gonna do, Tommy? Wait for Ze Germans?
TV: ....blahblahblah So go get Gusher's Fruit Snacks. Taste the Blast.
Belmo: GUH?!?!?! ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS!?!?! That's a viable slogan? That's ristupible.
-A night of quality entertainment with my TV.
By the way, it even took me a while to figure what I tried to say with Ristupible. It appears to be either a combination of ridiculous, stupid and horrible or a sure sign that I should stop watching TV and drinking heavily.
Anyway.
I really really hate summer classes now and this is the end of the FIRST WEEK of the new "semester". FIRST MOTHERFUCKING WEEK! I can't stand this shit anymore, this school shit, this wake up everyday to have some asshole buzz words past your head with the hopes that a handful will fester on your brain and rot into it so that you can spit the rancid concotion back onto paper, so the teacher can see just what he's doing wrong by telling you what you are doing wrong.
I miss the days of finger painting and nap time. I think if they kept nap time at least till 8th grade, there wouldn't be so much violence in the streets. I have no supporting evidence for this besides shut up.
But the one thing that Thursday does usher in (besides being the name of a band) is the weekend. And now I don't even have any Friday classes to show up hungover to! HOORAY! Hooray for having to still show up to a computer lab and do a 3 page paper, 9 reviews on articles of the New York Times, read 300 pages, possibly write another paper and all sorts of goody goody horseshit that makes school the single action in life that makes me want to rip my eyeballs out and shove them in my ears so I can't hear or see any of the teacher's shit.
I'm a bit bitter, if you haven't noticed.
There's many reasons.
JOB COUNT: 0 CLASS COUNT: 2
HOURS OF CLASSES A WEEK: 16
AMOUNT OF MONEY I HAVE LEFT: $13
NUMBER OF PEOPLE THIS AFFECTS IN ANY DIRECT OR INDIRECT WAY BESIDES MYSELF: 0
Of course, that last fact brings this full circle for me. This is my stinking pile of shit and to spit it all over a diary entry is both theraputic and futile. It's like farting for the fun of it but complaining about the smell. Wait, no it's not really like that but that's a funny damn analogy.
I think I'm going to make lunch now.
BMC
What did you just say? - What's he gonna say next?
