I just realized, that I am going to be 21 soon. I also realized, that my Chris isn't here to spend it with me. Which upsets me for 2 reasons. 1) I am finally legally old enough to participate in one of our favorite pasttimes without the authorities getting pissed off (provided I keep my clothes on), and 2) It's really hard to get someone drunk and take advantage of them when they are 3 hours away. So to this I say, what the fuck? Leave it to Chris to singlehandedly ruin my plans! On April 21, you promised me drunk time! Well, I'm an impatient asshole! To make up for this, I expect EXTRA drunk time, and jewelry! Or naked pictures. I'd accept those too. Or if you don't have any of those handy, sex, sex is always good. Or you could wash my car...naked. Or sex...no, sex is still an acceptable form of payment...Happy birthday to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. (It's on August 12, for those who need to be remided when to send me things for no apparent reason other than I was born. Which is good enough reason for me).

I'm a loser. Its offical. And you know what? I'm pissed off about it. I'm not pissed because I spent my Friday night at a laundromat that serves beer, with a bunch of drunk red neck hicks who felt the need to comment on my underwear. I understand that even Tweekerchicks need clean underwear. What pisses me off is that my entire life, I've had this wonderful, fantastic (although equally retarded) idea that the minute I hit my early twenties, I'd be spending my weekends at someones swank loft apartment in the city, drinking a cosmo or one of those other drinks that are made for urban sluts who don't understand that cranberry is used for a flavoring and the fucking drink isn't supposed to be red, wearing stack heeled boots and turtlenecks. Instead, I spent my Friday fucking night in a place where they serve beer beside laundry detergent, and the closest thing I got to intellegent conversation was me using the phrase "If you don't get your hands off of my underwear, I'll kick your wrinkly ass, Old man". According to the movies, magazines, and TV, my phone should be ringing off the hook. EVERYONE should want to spend time with me, simply because I'm 20, I'm cute, I own black stack heel boots, and I can make a damn good cosmo.

And one more thing. My eardrums were assualted by a Justin Timberlake song on my way home, and I only have to say one thing. Honey, sweetiepie, pumpkin...you're so white you're almost clear. Give it up.

I had a disturbing conversation in one of my favorite chat rooms last night. One of the pretentious assholes who wanders in every now and again, decides to tell me that he doesn't like me because I'm immature, and thats not enough to account for my antics. This didn't bug me too much, because this asswad doesn't like ANYTHING or ANYONE. But then I started thinking. I've come up with a few things. Maybe I should start being a bit more feminine. And soft spoken. I shouldn't get nearly as much joy as I do out of Eminem, or old CareBear videos. Maybe I should throw away the pink hair dye, and take the stud out of my tongue, and get my tattoos removed. I should pay more attention to current events even if they don't affect me, and stop wasting time on mindless activities like Silent Hill 2. I should probably stop smoking, and throw away all my sparkly nail polish and fun clothes. Leaving cute messages on my phone, thats got to go too. The secret joy I get from hearing bad hip hop needs to go. Along with the times I sit up till 3 am eating pizza and watching Designing Women, Golden Girls, The Simpsons, and bad 80s sitcoms. I should forget all the drug scene, and the way it's affected my personality. I need to stop jumping in puddles, and splashing people in the pool. Or driving in the summer with the windows down and the radio up just to see how fast I can go. Or sneaking into movies, just to see if I can. I should definately give up any idea of being a musician. I should also stop trying to get Chris in the sack.
But you know what?

I'm not fucking going to. Like Dre says. "Fuck y'all. All y'all. If you don't like me, blow me."
If you need me, I'll be coloring, being sure I set my coloring book right ontop of all of my bills.

There is one thing I don't think I'll ever be able to figure out about holidays. I've had some time between the hours of sweet loving I get from Chris and I started wondering. Really, what the fuck are we doing? A few cases to prove my point:
4th of July: We all buy fireworks 3 weeks ahead of time, and 3 cases of bic lighters, but refuse to touch either one of them until the first keg is consumed. By three people. We are celebrating the birth of our country by getting drunk and blowing off our fingers.
St Patricks Day: Ask anyone. No one is really sure what this holiday is about. All they know is that it gives them a good reason to consume shitloads of green beer and act like an asshole. If your an Augustana student, you get to get drunk all day long, at random places, and get a T-shirt and a hangover for it.
Valentines Day: We sit and moan about being single, then drive ourselves to the store and buy fourteen pounds of chocolate. And eat the whole thing in one pathetic sitting cause no one loves us because we are fat and ugly. Then our best friends come over with icecream, a pizza, and some oreos, and we eat ourselves silly while discussing how everyone sucks but us because we are single and have the opportunity to eat junkfood and bitch together, while collectively wondering why we are fat and no one loves us.
Presidents Day: Name more than 9 who haven't totally sucked, and then you might have a good reason for a goddamn holiday. Poor baby has to live in a big house with shitloads of funds while pissing off the rest of the world, while most of us just piss people off for free.

See? We are all drunk, fat, or stupid. Holidays played a huge part in the religion I chose. I couldnt be Wiccan, because they have a holiday for every time a goddess farted. Christianity never did it for me, seeing as I rather prefer my dead people, yanno, dead, and if they came back to life I'd run like hell and not look back. Probably while screaming like a small child in a Godzilla movie. Now, I'm in search of a religion whos holidays entail me drinking myself stupid, getting presents, and waking up naked next to Chris with a big smile on my face and a can of whipped cream beside me.

This is a quick one. A few quick facts for my favorite mother fuckers.
One of my feet is bigger than the other.
My heterolifemates boobs are named Thelma and Louise (one more reason shes more lovable than me, mine are Godzilla and Mothra).
My new apartment doesn't have air conditioning. So I'm going to find someone who does and bullshit my way into their life, and their central air.
It's impossible to lick your own elbow.
It's even more impossible to punch yourself in the face really hard.




You tried those last two, didn't you?

So, I was at work today, and I was thinking of what I wanted out of life. So heres the list.
1) I want a fast car. A nice fast car. One that no one else can have cause it's mine all mine.
2) I want to see Chris (Creator of http://rabideskimo.blogspot.com/) naked as the day he was born.
3) I want to be rich. Filthy rich. And not have to earn one damn penny of it. I want to be able to take all of my friends to cancun for 2 weeks, and then come back to my beachfront home to rest after the stressful trip of laying on the beach drinking myself stupid.
4) I want a hot guy naked, wrapped in a ribbon, to sing me happy birthday on my 21st birthday. Refer back to #2 for ideas.
5) I want metabolism that moves at the speed of light.
6) I want to have sex, just once, without hearing the phrase "Are you done yet?". Again, refer back to #2.
7) I want everyone to listen to me. Not because I want to be in charge, simply because I'm always right.
8) I want every single male I know to realize that it is NOT ok to just make out with me. They need to make out with my heterolifemate, too, she's got nicer tits.
9)I want people to understand that Frank Zappa is not just music, its a way of life.
10) I want Jennifer Lopez to have cellulite.
11) I want the person who thought Capri pants were cute to eat shit, and find a trend that looks cute on ME.
12) I want someone to make pants that aren't for someone 8 feet tall. Im fat, not tall, get it right, assholes.
13) I want a good looking man to cater to my every whim.
14) I want that good looking man to be naked. See #2.
15) I want an apartment with air conditioning.
16) If I cant get an apartment with air conditioning, I'll take a naked man serving me margaritas. Refer to #2.

Now, is that so much to ask?

Heh. I didn't even cuss that last time.
I fucking rule.

Just leaving a quick one, y'all. I'm off in Hicksville USA at the cutest little 4th of July fair ever, and I thought I'd rub it in to all y'all who aren't here. In the meantime, be good, and pick up a copy of Philosophy and The Simpsons. It's excellent.