For some reason the owner of an iPod gets to name their iPod, so I named mine Keith Richards. So I could say, "You know what that flat little white thing on the desk is? That's Keith Richards." Or when I'm importing songs into it, I could say, "I'm putting stuff into Keith Richards." Or when it needs to be recharged, I could say, "I'm charging up Keith Richards to keep him alive." Fuck the default name of "Administrator's iPod" or some shit like that. It's too boring and too long. And administrator reminds me of those constipated people who run the school.
Cousins are visiting from California in less than two weeks and we're all going to Florida together sometime soon after they come. It's still too much of a wait, considering of how many hours of television I watch and how many hours I sit on my ass thinking of what to make myself to eat next. Nowadays I tend to laugh a lot more at pretty much everything I see and I laugh much harder too. Like today I watched Pulp Fiction for the second or third time since last night and I just laughed my fucking ass off at everything they do, especially all the weird shit that Jules and his fro says. And yesterday when I was cleaning cabinets and tables with Windex, I put Denis Leary's Lock n' Load special on and while shining something I just fucking laughed so hard that my face just crinkled into nothing but a giant mouth with teeth surrounding it.
I remember my mom talking about us going to New Orleans for vacation at Christmas, somewhere around last November. That would've been really cool, because I could've stalked Trent Reznor in his house but now it's too fucking late since he jumped on the bandwagon and moved to California.
So just a minute ago I was talking to Shaina over the phone and looking out the window I saw through the cloud-covered sky a light patch that looked like a sperm cell wiggling around because the wind was blowing it. I need to get a life. I may need one, but I don't really want one because I'm just made for staying in my house for most of my life anyway. I actually enjoy it somewhat. There's nothing to do in Rockaway. Everywhere you go, there's either a scene kid or an emo kid. Man, those kids really need a nice giant kick in the ass with my boot and stop whining about how fakely "sad and lonely" they are. As a matter of fact, they need to stop putting tw grams of mascara on and smelling onions to get that crybaby look, stop drawing fake slits on their wrists with red Sharpies and be fucking glad that they're not clinically depressed. Depression is one of the most horrible fucking feelings in the world, and perhaps the most horrible feeling in the world if you really have it.
Saturday Night Live two nights ago on E! had John Goodman hosting and he was wearing tight acid wash jeans, a purple shirt, and brown Members Only jacket. That was pretty damn funny.
I'd really like to see these kids lying that their families hate them and not let them do anything and that their parents like to beat them, just so they could bring attention to themselves and get our fucking pity. No thanks I don't want to befriend a fucking pussy. Hey kid, my mom used to beat my head with rulers for not being able to do my times tables and look at me now, I don't need a calculator anymore. Pretty much.
I thought people who wore clothes that were too tight would be angry all the time like a constipated fat man but turns out they're not. Whining doesn't get you anywhere, you can't expect people to sympathize with you and do all the shit that you can't do for you.
I'm even starting to bore myself talking about this. A good laugh will make this all better.
DOES HE LOOK LIKE A BITCH?
Christina N. @ 8:19 PM
