A days have become my reason for living. Helen, Merishna, and Jessica are amazing and I'm still trying to decide what evil forces kept us from interacting in the past. Maybe it was for the good of the world, because in all honesty, we do some pretty awful things.
A few days ago after nourishing our bodies with some delicious chick-fil-a we decided to attempt visiting the local sex shop, the very appropriately titled, love shack. We got about three feet inside and Merishna and I were feigning interest in trashy lingerie that looked like it had been had dragged out of the 80's, when the hag who was running the fine establishment asked us for some ID. The only person who had their license was Merishna and she certainly didn't want to stay in there alone (no matter how huge the dildo's were or how hot the male employees were) so we had to leave. From there we went to Jessica's house to gawk at her hot room mate ( WHOM WE DUBBED "SQUIRTY" FOR REASONS THAT SHALL REMAIN SECRET). He was italian and short and his screename has "DA PIMP" in it. I drew gay porn in MS Paint and he called me immature. Okay, DAPIMP3000, whatever you say. I managed to not break my neck jumping on her trampoline and I even scored a caprisun. Then I went home to wallow in hours of seinfeld and cheese nips.
Today was equally exciting as we went on a tobacco binge. Can you imagine pulling up next to a car full of teenage girls, each fully equipped with a huge cigar and singing along to Ashlee Simpson? I think we went to three separate 7-11s and succeeded in consuming two tiny cherry cigars and one huge chocolate one. We named it "the communal cigar of sisterhood" or something, but I'm pretty sure that's a misnomer considering I'm the only one who really smoked it. I got to say fun things like "SMOKE THAT FATTY" and "YOU WANNA SUCK ON THIS GAR?". Old people thought it was a great idea to stare at us and the lady who was working at the 7-11 called us "sweety" and "honey" when they asked for ID. I had a free sample of a sandwich that tasted like ass and some more chick-fil-a. We corrupted Helen and made her join us in our chain smoking sin fest. Eventually we had to return Merishna to school so that she wouldn't get in trouble for skipping and then I returned home to continue my quest of downloading music. I accidentally deleted all of my music. Yo La Tengo, GONE. Elvis Costello, GONE. The Smiths, GONE. All I have left is shipbuilding and some coldplay stuff. I should have probably started a new paragraph a few sentences ago huh?
I guess I'll just close by mentioning something about how I fell asleep in webster's class and woke up to the penis of a small child and a bloody carcass that was being raped and ravaged. Also, I really hate Le Tigre and I don't care what they stand for because their music makes my ears bleed. People who think that one band can define your stance on feminism are nothing short of moronic. You don't have to like them to be a part of the women's progressive movement and you don't have to be part of said movement just because you like them. This isn't going out to anyone in particular, I've just seen a whole lot of stupid websites. Want to listen to something with genuine feminist undertones? Zak and Sara by Ben Folds, don't understand? I'd be more than happy to offer up an explanation. This is the longest entry of my life I'm going to go smoke one of the remaining menthols in my purse and pray that I die of lung cancer instead of being hit by a bus or something.( I STOLE THIS FROM SOMEONE REALLY AWESOMECollapse )
And I think only two of you would find this funny, but I accidently posted this in THAT OTHER JOURNAL THAT I HAVE.