March 22, 2003 :: 7:54 p.m.
the shirt is held together by magic
Hello, gentle viewers. It is I, your faithful diarist, here again to occupy your time and brain activity with pointless commentary and an endless supply of hatred and rage. Let's begin, shall we?
Adam and I did not, in fact, get to see Spongebob Squarepants at the Country Markey Nursery this afternoon. We got there around 11 or so, and upon seeing the mass amounts of children milling around and the rows and rows of shiny SUVs that transported them, we fled. It was life or death, I tell you - fight or flight, and who wants to fight hordes of children for access to a guy in a giant sponge suit? I wanted to see him, but damn. It was ridiculous. So we left, and stopped by Adam's dad's house to visit the dog and have something to eat. His dad and Anne weren't actually there, though, so there wasn't a whole lot to do. We went to my house to drop off my mom's debit card and see my doggie, who was busy running around the backyard with Ranger (the neighbor's dog).
Now, I like Ranger. He's very cute. But he was mounting my dog. Who is a male. Ranger is a male, also, but apparently he's a little on the homosexual side. He did it four or five times, and each time Buddy would look terribly confused for a second and then get down to showing Ranger what's what. There was much chasing and jumping and barking and snarling, which was somewhat disturbing, but if I were being sexually harassed by another dog of my own sex I'd be a little pissed, too. So I understand. I'm sure it's a big territorial thing, but frankly, I don't care. My dog is no one's bitch.
There were other stops along the way back to school - Target, Michael's, etc - but nothing of real interest happened. When we got back into town we were starving, so stopped to pick up my prescription (along with some yummy easter candy) and then headed off to Mama's for dinner. They have the best sicilian pizza ever. I'll miss it very much when I leave here.
And now... well, Emily is, as per usual, sitting on her bed, soul-bonding with the TV. She's been here all fucking day. I can tell, even though I haven't been here myself, because when we got back at around three o 'clock she had just gotten out of the shower. And she hasn't stepped out of the room for any longer than is necessary to take a piss since, because the universe hates me and wants me to suffer until I die. At which point I'll discover that, oh gosh darnit, god is real, and he'll send me to hell because I never went to church or believed in him or anything. And in hell, I will live my afterlife of fire and pain with an Emily-shaped shadow following behind me for all eternity. It will NEVER, EVER END. Of this, I am thoroughly convinced. One tends to have a very bleak outlook on life when one cannot even look forward to peace after death.
So I was thinking. You know what's less annoying than Emily? Cheese in a can. George W. Bush. Spam. People who shop at The Gap. People who can fit into clothes from Express. Britney Spears. The mindless chatter of adolescent girls. Having no money. This school. Vomiting. The smell of blue cheese. Jerry Springer. Bad grammar. And on and on and on...
In other news, the body of my t-shirt has no seams. I have no idea how it was put together. Adam is equally puzzled.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005