Tuesday, March 6
Some guy that used to go to high school with me tried out somewhat of a lame excuse of asking me out. It went something within the lines of this:

Dude: I usually don't hang out with girls. But if you ask me to hang out, I'd call you a slut...then ask where and when.
Moi: I'm gonna leave that up to you.
Dude: Which one?
Moi: First one, because you basically just called me a slut already.
Dude: ...Slut.

He has a serious girlfriend and even said earlier that he was happy with her. So what the fuck is he doing talking to me? He found me first and started talking to me first; I had nothing to do with it. So I'm very sketchy about it, I don't want a raging college chick hunting down my ass.

I don't really care anyway. He was really cool beans up to a certain point and understands all of my humor and sarcasm. He's alright-looking, blondes are foxy but if he looked something beyond the lines of Mike Patton, motherfucker I'd be all over that shit in a fucking second - girlfriend or not.

Why have so many dudes been talking to me lately? I love poontang just as much as any other slore, but it just totally bums me out when the men that I actually do want to talk to are never really around as much, or probably don't like me all too greatly at all. It's a real punch in the babymaker. So all in all, I ain't too happy. I seem to have the worst luck and the least amount of wit when it comes to the love department, as opposed to everything else. It's pretty much pathetic, considering I hear about 200-lb. human manatees get more head than I do. No joke - I hear gossip all the time, but it's the believable kind because you just don't make up shit that's so odd-ended.

This morning I went to Target and bought several boxes and bags of sweets and chocolate for future stashing, and then went to Panera Bread to buy even more food. Lastly, my cronies and I went to Borders and I bought a brownie from their cafe. They have damn good shit at Borders, I tell you. Tomorrow we're probably going to Panera again or a diner or something. I only have $12 for the rest of the week, or else I'll have to go bust out my piggy bank.

Even if I did nothing but eat all day in every class (which lasted 40 minutes each), I was fucking tired by the time I got home. Although, I am really in the mood for waffles and syrup right now.

While waiting for school to start, I was talking to some folks in a crowded hallway. Then some guy in a group next to me tapped me on the shoulder and then he and all his bumblefucks started laughing. "?????????" Not to be a bigot or anything, but latinos tend to do weird shit like that - indirectly embarass others for some reason or another as they talk about them behind their back. I wasn't embarassed though, just confused and slightly thought about starting a violent, semi-nuclear raucous.

Lita was quite a pain in the ass today. Bitch was demanding, man. I kind of wanted her to shut up so that I could actually get some shit done and not have to do too much at home. She even threatened to call Charlie on my ass, because I hate that six-toothed redneck motherfucker more than she does and he wants poontang from both of us.

Boring entry? I think so too. Let's talk about something that doesn't have to do with my social life, which you clearly see is as boring as the history of toothpicks.

Last night I was watching Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations on the Travel Channel when he went to Namibia and lived with the Bushmen tribe for a day. He followed them as they hunted down a wild warthog and cooked it. The head was the most prized piece of meat second to the anus/poop shoot, and it would be highly disrespectful to reject to eating such a thing that is so valuable to the group. So, later on when Anthony was alone, he said to the camera that the warthog, "Tasted like it was permeated in its own shit." Dude, I fucking laughed so hard, man. You had to have seen that to believe me.


Christina N. @ 6:23 PM