I rolled over 300 miles on the new setup today. Very happy about that. I should be finished sometime this month. Not happy about gas though. The shit jumped a quarter from the $1.9dick I used to pay. I mean, $20 still gives me a full tank (~8 gallons), but it was just so comforting to see gas dip below the $2 line in God knows how long.

I feel that the Facebook bubble has burst. I got in on it when it was still relatively new. People approaching it still thought they were “too cool” for it and it was still generally considered to be for “da Ashunz.” Now, every last douchebag has jumped on the fad bandwagon to “b kool” and get a fucking Facebook. Congratulations, Facebook is the new Myspace. And it’s all because of you assholes!
I swore to myself I would never get a Myspace. I kept true to this promise to this day. I will forever find it the biggest internet mind dump ever thought up by corporate minds to make money off of stupid fucking teenagers.
I won’t get rid of Facebook now since I’ve already had a taste of the drug. And I suppose the shit has some neat aspects.
The groups one can join are like mini messageboards all separated from one another. And “walls” are just your own personal messageboard.
The “mini feed” is a stalker window of sorts. Now at 3 a.m., you can see what group that sophomore girl who you had in some class 6 months ago joined. It’s brilliant!
“Oh shit, my friend’s written on the wall for “Macs are Gay.” I better mention it in a wall post or they won’t think I’m their friend anymore! Fuck! Fuck me!”
The breadth of graphics, however, is nothing short of astonishing. Vain losers throw up 400 pictures of themselves from that Halloween party last fall that was totally “off da hook.” One can get lost in what I like to call photographic adventures for hours upon hours. “Wait wait, I’m on page 356 of this bitch’s photo album at the beach in sophomore year. Just a few more minutes. My 20 page Renaissance report can wait a little while longer to be written.”
And holy SHIT is Facebook a time sucking black hole. You check in real quick at around 9 p.m. to see if someone’s left you a wall post, and before you know it, you’re discussing the finer points of grammar in the group entitled “Grammar is Hot” and it is approximately 1:24 a.m. People create groups on the very subject, all of them cleverly titled like, “Fuck off Facebook, I’m doing homework.” (LOL).
I hate Mark Zuckerburg for being so fucking good at human psychology. The fucker knows that every human is vain and narcissistic, and he takes full advantage of us with this Facebook shit.
Facebook is going to become so fucking commercialized in the future it isn’t even funny. I mean, it’s already started with this gift shit. $1 a gift. Ooh how cute, you can send your friends a thong with a winking smilie to send across the message that you would like to fuck them 9 ways till Sunday. Nothing achieves that better short of a poke.
Poking is such a phenomenon that Xanga has gone so far as to rip it off to the point of actually keeping the same fucking name. Could have called it prodding or some shit, something fucking CREATIVE! Poking means you want to fuck. It is the silent “fuck me” message. It is the internet equivalent of giving someone “fuck me” eyes, or otherwise eye fucking someone. Note: you will NEVER find a guy poking ANOTHER guy. That just screams, “FLAMING CHOCOLATE THIEF” at 120 decibels across a fucking football field.

I haven’t written any rants for a while now. Felt good to get that out.

I am looking forward to the spring weather. Tuesday was a day of paramount importance. It was the first day I deemed it warm enough to have the windows down. This can only mean that once it gets just a smidgen warmer, the top will be in the fucking down position. Permanently. And it will be orgasming from there on out. God, I’m excited.


Oh shit.

I guess it’s my birthday tomorrow. I’ve frankly given it very little thought. Whatevs. I suppose now when I go to Canada or anywhere else in the world, I’ll be able to get drunk legally. Sweeeet.

I have a shitload of so many good pieces of writing from last year.

From March, 17, 2006:
Sometimes I feel like the crouton in a bowl of imbecile soup. The
idiocy of my fellow peers is oftentimes underestimated. It actually
served to shock me today. Menevolence. Holy shit. It’s like malevolence raped benevolence, and their illegitimate child was born with a foot sticking out of its head.”

Sadly, this analogy still holds true this year. Flying squirrels and all. Fucking idiot.


Anatomy fucking blows. And I actually have to start doing work too. Fucking grades. Fucking work. Fucking effort.

Who gives a shit about proximal tibiofibular joints anyway?

“Just let me record it. Each take is worse. He’s slowly learning how to unplay the guitar.”
“I can hear that. The talkback mic is on.”
“Pickle, please let me know when the talkback mic is on so that Mr. Sensitives don’ts gos to Crysbaby’s house for vacation.”
“I can stills hear you.”
“So what do you want?! A “be able to hear things” award?!”
“Eh, not really. Doesn’t sound like a greats award, to be honest.”

New classes so far admittedly blow.

Chorus has like 50 fucking kids. They weren’t actually engaging in fucking, mind you.
It’ll probably get better once the class settles in and we start singing.

Psych 2 is a class of 30 kids. 5 of them are guys.
Seriously. There’s 5 guys in a class that is otherwise entirely Vaginaville.
I guess in theory that doesn’t blow, but the majority of these girls are about as bright as a dead lightbulb.

Psychostick’s a good band. Comedy hardcore hasn’t really been done much.

I’m pretty sick today. I muster this belief due to my nose expelling fluid by the liter.

I’ve recently gotten into gummy bear vitamins. The suggested dosage is 2.
I ate like 40.

The reasoning behind this most certainly must have been: why take two when I get EVEN HEALTHIER IN LESS TIME?

I guess you can see the irony.

Especially since I haven’t gotten so much as a cough all winter.

Oh well.

The exams are over. They were alright. So the last 2nd semester of high school begins. My classes aren’t even changing. I’m going to Psych 2 with the same teacher at the same time. And I’m extending Chorus another quarter, just because I’d rather learn how to harvest cow shit than take a quarter of Jewelry Experience.