Yea … I’m a loser, I’m posting on a Saturday Night … a night that really should be dedicated to filling out college applications. And by filling out college applications, I mean doing the essays for college applications. And by doing the essays for college applications, I mean staring mindlessly at the screen at the question that you need to answer. And by staring mindlessly at the screen at the question that you need to answer, I mean procrastinating and posting on Xanga. AH HAH! I HAVE DEFEATED THE SYSTEM!


Now for some random thoughts ….


Contacts:
Word of advice …. when you wake up in the morning and go to the bathroom to put your contacts in … do not proceed to stick the contact that you clumsily dropped in toothpaste residue a few seconds ago into your eye. Your eye will water rapidly for a second or two and then dry up like a bitch afterwards …. so when you try to remove your dried-out contact, you’re not completely sure if what you are touching is actually the membrane of your EYE or the contact itself. Trust me … you do not want to try taking out what MIGHT be your contact when actuality is the membrane of your EYE. I speak with experience.


White Houses:
That new Vanessa Carlton song is actually pretty good … Catchy enough to spur movement in one’s limbs and set off a chain reaction of dance moves that include the robot and the ass-wave … the ass-wave being a different version of the booty-shake where your butt moves around in a circular motion as if you were painting an imaginary wall with your buttocks. And while you’re dancing it also sets off a chain of grunts, where the listener grunts “UH!” to each beat. And after a few minutes of displaying these motions and sounds … you realize that you’re alone in your room dancing to Vanessa Carlton, so you look around to see if anyone else has been watching you and you slowly stop and pretend that nothing ever happened … And by all means I am not admitting that I myself do this. Oh no of course not …. but I do have to admit that it is a magical song. It has the magical ability to make you feel a tremendous feeling of alienation to yourself and it makes you re-evaluate yourself as a human being. I fear that I am becoming a white chick … *stabs self in eye*


Bowflex:
Being the avid watcher of television, I come across many Bowflex commercials. These commercials stir up a certain feeling of anger inside of me and I have no clue why. If you are going to make a commercial for an exercise equipment, I want to see an extremely overweight/out-of-shape man using the machine and I want to see the fat magically disappear off of his body before my eyes. Not only would this make for a good commercial, but it would also be extremely entertaining watching an obese man exercise.


The Complex Life of a Six Year Old:
My journals as a six year old (neglecting to call them “diaries” in attempts to salvage all that’s left of my masculinity) prove to provide hours upon hours of laughter and entertainment. My entries would consist of me telling my journal of what I had eaten that day and what I had done… So taken out of context, one of my entries would go like …

“I ate a plum and a potato today … then I played video games and wrote in my journal”


And it would basically be the same exact entry for days and days to come until the time where I would occasionally go outside to play basketball. I also find it hilarious that while writing in my journal, I felt obligated to write that “I wrote in my journal today”. That, my friends, is a new all-time low for stupidity.



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4 thoughts on “

  1. …but i will humiliate you further – and we had to wear bathing suits so that we didn’t see each other’s private parts. i like your ass-wave/butt-dance. you are very coordinated. and mom was reading your journals yesterday and trying to figure out what happened to you. bye bye, check out my xanga.

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