Since when does buying a half pound of weed make me a bad person. Since when is it an "awful thing." HELLO? Doesn't anyone remember the seventies for chrissake? COME ON! Everybody and their mother smoked pot until the eighties (when I might add they either got old or switched to coke), there's nothing that wrong with them. Sure they may suffer from an unfortunate sense of world harmony or potentially dillusional liberalism, but heck most old occasional pot smokers have done pretty well for themselves, leading by and large mild mannered suburban lives with wine! On the other hand, what happens to no-necked, dipshit frat boys and their beer pong team? They inherit/work their way up to owning a lovely used car dealership in bumblefuck connecticut or virginia, get a belly and marry their college girlfriend. Hey douchebag, how often do you have to buy pants? Oh, 3 times a year? Awesome, how's your wife's black eye? Oh she fell down the stairs? Bet you're glad you never smoked pot, that liver disease must be awesome. It goes well with the ulcers. Anyway happy bald spot, hope the mall shop/ chain store you're middle management at turns a good profit this year, maybe you'll be honored with some meaningless distinction involving a gold version of whatever product you sell. Fuck-all.
Look for me on your streetcorner though, and please forget all about this and drop a sacagawea in my burger king cup. I promise I won't piss on your yard. You've got beautiful kids.
It looks more and more like I'm moving to New York City. To some small studio on Manhattan (I hope) and transferring to NYU (I hope). I'm interning with Foreman at the Ontological (sweet!). This whole thing sounds so delightfully romantic that I just can't seem to come to grips with the really really (like don't lick it or you're gonna lose some skin) cold reality of new york. It's like I don't remember living out of my ciggarette case with enough change every day to buy a taco. Doing nothing but eating hard rolls fried in butter, not having to eat more than once a day cause I never got out of bed. Not being able to find a job cause I was too scared to go above 14th St. On the upside I won't have to live with some backwoods retard aspiring HR manager, what kind of sick fuck do you have to be to want to go into Human Resources. That's not exactly an exciting and thrilling field full of challenges you can really take home with you. I learned a lot about people who drink bud light (for the taste) that summer. On the downside I won't be living with a huge jocky lookin guy who goes to princeton and studies finance. I won't be able to have very intelligent conversations with him about the markets and how best to manage money in the long term. And he won't be smoking me up all the time with the fucking danks. Haze, Rhino, Jackalope you name it. God that was an all around mediocre time.
Bah.
I wonder how to get cooler templates for blogger like the one brendon has.
commonlymisspelled.blogspot.com
I'm going to go looking for one
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4 comments:
You + NYC = worry 4 Lena.
I don't want you to starve to death and stay in bed all day! Then who's going to be the only other person that leaves messages on other peoples' blogs as much as ME?
Who will I correct?
Tomorrow I'm going to the Emory University library, and I will see other people. I might break out in a rash, but I'll blog all about it tomorrow.
I think it's the artificial pumpkin flavor that people think is yummy...and I like pumpkin pie and pumpkin ice cream and pumpkin seeds and maybe some other pumpkin things I haven't tried yet. You're probably right though, I don't think taking a bite out of a pumpkin would be the yummiest thing in the world.
You're going to have to get over the fact that I can't update my blog with any regularity because being a grad student is hard. Way hard. Like harder than being an undergrad. Who knew?
my mom thinkgs she sees you on the back page of the book, either selling or buying textbooks.
I told her you were suspended, and even though she looked up your case in the Penal Code when we found out of your imprisonment, she still thinks it's you.
Maybe it is, who knows. I'm in Atlanta. I don't get the scope anymore.
Oh yes, it's him. Vanessa told me. But I can understand why Lena would have trouble believing it...it's not like you ever bought books for school...you just stole them. I bet it's a picture of you stealing books, not buying them.
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