So finally my Nintendo NES works. The seller sent me a new cord in the mail and turns out that it was the miracle cord. Only thing is, the 72 pin connector is pretty faulty. Still works on most games, but I'd rather get a whole new pin connector so that I don't break a sweat every time I want to play something. I'm really pissed that the Duckhunt is really faulty. Fuck, I'm not even sure if it's working correctly. And it's my all-time favorite fucking game too. Goddamn.
I had an AP test for European History on Friday, and I really have to admit that it was perhaps the most ridiculous test that I had ever taken. I'll save you all of the usual bitching and say that instead of doing the three essays, I started revising the test booklet with my pen and inserted quotes and suggestions about how fucking lame the Collegeboard is.
My neighbors have been so annoying lately that I walked home with my hand covering my face, making it look like I was trying to cover the sun but actually didn't want to talk to any nosy fucktards. It was like dodging flashbulbs from the paparazzi. It's fucking ridiculous. Not only was I in a shitty mood from the AP test that made me leave school late, but they have a tendency to gossip like no tomorrow. Seriously, your nose belongs on your shitty face, not in somebody else's business.
For some reason, I wasn't scheduled for work today, and stayed home for an entire fucking day for the first time in months. I really can't remember the last time that I stayed home all day. But anyhow, it was a well-deserved break (in my opinion, fuck yours).
You know what also came in the mail just recently?
I know it's a long time overdue, but when it comes to shit that I actually do care about, I must go out and buy that shit instead of pirating it on Limewire or some other source of illegal downloading. For the uneducated, the concept of this album centers around the human state of mind when undergoing surgery without anesthesia. Craziest shit ever and highly recommended. Not that anybody cares. I fucking swear - any, any type of attempt at conversion to music that you like does not and will not work because nobody gives a flying fuck. Particularly myself, because my popularity rate is at an ultimate low.
On the back of the elaborately-packaged CD is this quote from a surgical book: "Like the surgeon, the composer slashes open the body of his fellow man, removes his eyes, empties his abdomen of organs, hangs him up on a hook holding up to the light all of the body's palpitating treasures sending a burst of light into its innermost depths."
Nifty stuff, eh? I don't know about you, but I totally dig that shit.
Christina N. @ 10:33 PM
