I'm seeing Grindhouse again this Sunday. FUCK YEAH!!! It's awesome how Lauren is still taking me, because it'll be her third time and I kind of feel bad for making her see it three fucking times, but she says it's all good because that movie of course kicks some major fucking ass. Dude, I would go see that shit every day if I could. She saw it the first time with me on the day it came out, and then spontaneously a week later, Helen calls her up and takes her to go see Grindhouse in a fucking drive-in theater near where she lives; which is in the middle of nowhere, literally. Helen is squeamish and hates gorey shit - I don't see why she would spend her money like that and subject herself to something she loathes, except to have the chance to say that she "saw that badass movie Grindhouse in a DRIVE-IN MOVIE THEATER, baby!" That pisses me off, in addition to getting to fucking watch Grindhouse in a drive-in movie theater. Oh well, suck it the fuck up!
You know what's sad? I went to bed at 3:00AM last night because I couldn't get off of eBay. Those motherfuckers really know how to hook humans onto useless shit. I was trying to win an auction that included 50+ Faith No More CDs and rarities, up until the price started soaring over $100 - this, added to the absolutely ridiculous $73 shipping cost from Australia. No fucking way, man. Not with how I spend money on toffee almond bars at Starbucks and loading up my closet with what seems like 40+ handbags within a 1-year timespan. The auction ended with the lot costing over $200.
Bitch! That lot included all of my children! My babies, man. Alright, so Faith No More really does mean a lot to me, but maybe not 280 dollars' worth. My mom would've busted a fucking cap in my ass anyway when I ask for her credit card. I can't get a credit card of my own yet and therefore have to use hers or my dad's when purchasing useless crap online. You know, because I am an inferior.
eBay is the perfect spot for people to purchase the dumbest shit that only they themselves care about. I don't think anybody within a 30-mile radius of me gives a flying fuck about Faith No More or Mike Patton, as depressing as that sounds. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe in every other house there's a closet Mike Patton fanatic. Lauren's dad likes to think that I am a closet Barry Manilow fan, but that's just a tactic to take off the focus from him and his Barry Manilow fanaticism. No joke - with the help of his daughter, they won an autographed 8x10 photograph of Barry.
Have you ever wondered? If there were vegetarians who sneak into the sewers every night, hoping to catch a dead fish that you flushed down the toilet so that they could eat it in private, because they just want to consider themselves as vegetarians for the novelty and attention of the idea?
Yeah!!!
Christina N. @ 9:15 PM
