My favorite place to be is at the beach. Unfortunately, I am fair-skinned and doomed to lobster-ness after 15 minutes in the sun. I think this is some bizarre repayment for sins in a previous life. Or maybe karma knew I would one day burn enemies’ school yearbook pictures and brutal sunburns are the retribution owed me. Pre-emptive karma? Hmm. I like that idea.
People are extreme only in their similarities. I’ve noted when my conservative friends rant about politics, they sound exactly like my liberal friends. My atheist friends sound just like my religious friends when it comes to defending their beliefs (or lack thereof). It’s only the names and the dogma that change. I sit back and watch them snipe at each other with amusement because they don’t know they sound like each other. Then I catch myself doing the same damned thing and laugh at me too. We are all such silly creatures.
My favorite song right now is Rammstein’s ‘Du Riescht So Gut’. You don’t care. I don’t care that you don’t care. And you don’t care that I don’t care that you don’t care. We are together in this and that makes me feel close to you. Thanks for sharing that moment with me.
Faux-hawks were in the top three stupidest hair styles I’ve ever seen. Every time I saw a man with his hair that way, I wanted to shave his head so he could never commit that level of hideousness again. I wanted to run about in a mask and cape while wielding a razor and call myself ‘The Blade’. But doesn't everyone?
Strangers, please stop coming up to me and telling me to cheer up and stop looking so sad. I am not sad. My face just has that look naturally. Usually I am in a somewhat pissy mood though, and telling me to cheer up makes it worse. You’re only contributing to the problem. Contribute to a better cause: if you want me to smile, give me money.
Every time I hear someone say, “This is America! If you’re going to live here, speak the language,” I ask them how fluent their Cherokee is. Then I wonder why I have so much trouble making friends.
I want to require everyone to wear shirts with disclaimers/warning labels written by those who know them best. Either we’ll never speak to each other ever again after reading those, or they will be awesome conversation starters. I think everyone will finally leave me the hell alone after reading mine.
Really, I wonder why I have difficulty making friends?
I think if it came out exactly who is running this country, the everyday U.S. citizen would rise up and revolt. The common man would get off his apathetic ass and demand a true democracy. Not me though. I’m uncommonly apathetic. Plus I’m already revolting by just being me. I come with a full package of revolt pre-loaded.
Okay, blog written. There’s half an hour I’ll never get back. That’s okay; I never liked that half hour anyway.