Drive.
Reasons I am bitter, crabby and basically depraved at the moment:
Beggar girl who stole my phone and has thus rendered me music-less during travel.
You. YOU. I’m right HERE. What’s the matter with you?!
The weather. Mother Nature’s got rocks in her cranium, I tell you.
My wallet. Could it be anymore empty?
The English Premiere League. Gah.
The paparazzi. *brandishes knife*
Yes, yes. Joy to the world and all that jazz.
It just hit me that I haven’t written in a long time.
I mean, really written.
I thought I’d find plenty to inspire me into a literary frenzy what with Malhar beginning, Malhar ending, winning Malhar and… well, you know. Other stuff. >.<
But so it was not to be and that dreaded writer’s block refuses to loosen it’s chokehold around me.
Bleh.
In other news, my neighbour has returned. So, in case you were wondering have the 4 AM tuneless murder of some rock classics, the extremely enviable electronics and the skinny, Celine Dion-worshipping girlfriend who can make extremely questionable sounds, which for the most part make you wish you were dead – EVEN with the windows shut. My friends and well wishers, however, will be happy to know that her obsession with Paris Hilton’s music has visibly diminished. In fact, a saxophone rendition of Hotel California was almost well received. (“OhmyGAWD, isn’t that the totally HAWT Eagle’s song?” – spellings as per the pronunciation, of course.). So yea. Thank the stars for small mercies.
Yes, I see some of you staring around confused with the million dollar question at the tip of your tongue –
Hey, wasn’t she lesbian?
Well, yes. I thought she was too.
I guess they sorted it out.
Don’t ask me how.
[Dear neighbour,
If, in the unlikely event you read this, and are angry that anyone would post such private details of your life over the worldwide web – if you don’t know how to keep it down to a holler, you don’t deserve privacy!]
I was supposed to attend lectures today, considering my attendance record is very severely lacking - thanks to Malhar work, ill health and sheer laziness.
But once again, I weaseled myself out of it but making extremely persuasive arguments against the merits of attending. So once again, I remain with a precarious attendance record, and once more I resolve that tomorrow will be the day that I finally step into class again. To imbibe the pleasures of academia. To enrich my fertile, teenage mind.
To stay off the dreaded blacklist.
Such noble thoughts indeed.
Bah. It’s so hard not to be bitter and crabby with all these corrupt factors working against one.
Oh and now my idiotic memory has decided to refresh the fact that I have a French test tomorrow.
Woopdefuckingdoo.
I’m off. See you’ll later.
Have fun closing in on your miserable deaths.
>.<
[the only reason i named this post as i did is because i was listening to the song by incubus at the time and i'm too lazy to think of a title now]
Beggar girl who stole my phone and has thus rendered me music-less during travel.
You. YOU. I’m right HERE. What’s the matter with you?!
The weather. Mother Nature’s got rocks in her cranium, I tell you.
My wallet. Could it be anymore empty?
The English Premiere League. Gah.
The paparazzi. *brandishes knife*
Yes, yes. Joy to the world and all that jazz.
It just hit me that I haven’t written in a long time.
I mean, really written.
I thought I’d find plenty to inspire me into a literary frenzy what with Malhar beginning, Malhar ending, winning Malhar and… well, you know. Other stuff. >.<
But so it was not to be and that dreaded writer’s block refuses to loosen it’s chokehold around me.
Bleh.
In other news, my neighbour has returned. So, in case you were wondering have the 4 AM tuneless murder of some rock classics, the extremely enviable electronics and the skinny, Celine Dion-worshipping girlfriend who can make extremely questionable sounds, which for the most part make you wish you were dead – EVEN with the windows shut. My friends and well wishers, however, will be happy to know that her obsession with Paris Hilton’s music has visibly diminished. In fact, a saxophone rendition of Hotel California was almost well received. (“OhmyGAWD, isn’t that the totally HAWT Eagle’s song?” – spellings as per the pronunciation, of course.). So yea. Thank the stars for small mercies.
Yes, I see some of you staring around confused with the million dollar question at the tip of your tongue –
Hey, wasn’t she lesbian?
Well, yes. I thought she was too.
I guess they sorted it out.
Don’t ask me how.
[Dear neighbour,
If, in the unlikely event you read this, and are angry that anyone would post such private details of your life over the worldwide web – if you don’t know how to keep it down to a holler, you don’t deserve privacy!]
I was supposed to attend lectures today, considering my attendance record is very severely lacking - thanks to Malhar work, ill health and sheer laziness.
But once again, I weaseled myself out of it but making extremely persuasive arguments against the merits of attending. So once again, I remain with a precarious attendance record, and once more I resolve that tomorrow will be the day that I finally step into class again. To imbibe the pleasures of academia. To enrich my fertile, teenage mind.
To stay off the dreaded blacklist.
Such noble thoughts indeed.
Bah. It’s so hard not to be bitter and crabby with all these corrupt factors working against one.
Oh and now my idiotic memory has decided to refresh the fact that I have a French test tomorrow.
Woopdefuckingdoo.
I’m off. See you’ll later.
Have fun closing in on your miserable deaths.
>.<
[the only reason i named this post as i did is because i was listening to the song by incubus at the time and i'm too lazy to think of a title now]
posted by Souljacker at 10:00 AM
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