I mean, it’s okay to be a cockmuncher, but if cockmuncher is the first word that comes to mind every time I see you, then it could be a problem. Unless if it’s a hobby, but it really isn’t in my book. Then again, this society is becoming a flaming liberal so cockmunching can probably fall under the same category as fabricating styrofoam rocket models and collecting bottlecaps. Well, assuming that we have not gotten to the extreme end of it, I just think it’s about time you pick up a hobby. Hm, I guess cockmunching could be a hobby if you keep a cockmunching journal with pages of knob stamps after each climax. If the guy hasn’t spunked himself, then you can use red ink to get his knob stamped on your page to indicate that it was an unsuccessful experience.
You know what annoys me? When a girl, whose boyfriend I’ve known for a long time keeps referring to him as “my boyfriend” when mentioning him in a conversation. Okay, I already know he’s your boyfriend and second of all, he and I have been close friends for quite some time so yes, I know his name so if you would kindly start using his name instead of “my boyfriend” that would be great. Plus, his name is only ONE syllable long whereas “my boyfriend” is a whole whoppin three syllables. Save the syllables, cut down on the syllables. I know he’s yours, I am very well aware of that so please don’t rub it in.
You know what? You’re right, I’m not cool. You know what again? I’m very proud of my “uncool” self. I’m gonna keep listening to music you think are uncool, wear things that you think are uncool, and do things that are just uncool to you. I’m most comfortable being me and if you don’t find any of what I do or already am very cool then you can go have an anal with a cactus.
Also, pop culture. POP CULTURE IS HUUUUGE. It’s not just about Radiohead, Dr. Who, Star Wars, Michael Chabon, and macaroons or whatever is trendy on twitter. Just because we’re not oozing with the same substance of pop culture or you spend more time on fucking tumblr/reddit/stumbleupon doesn’t mean our conversation should cease to continue because of my lack of time spent on what you do. We’re all humans with feelings. There are common grounds. Just because I don’t know everything you know doesn’t make me uncool nor make you any better than me. Quite frankly, there are a lot of things I know that you wouldn’t know. One of the points in having conversations is sharing ideas and interests. Harmonizing the apparent differences can be successful through a dialogue. Conversations aren’t just about reiterating what we experienced with someone who has already undergone the same experience.
YOU are not the definition of cool. To accept other people’s differences and giving them the thumbs up for being themselves is what COOL means to me! If appearances, friends, music, accessories, and academics are the only factors that indicate where you and I stand on the spectrum of coolness, then fuck the modern culture. Just fuck it.
Here we go again, folks. The stress monster has once again arrived at the worst destination you could ever imagine: my brain. It’s one of those nights where I need to just bitch about my life, although I must say that I am rather relieved to say I’ve finally got out of the 40K hospital debt thanks to medicaid for scooping me out of the ditch where the flood of medical bills were rapidly rising. (No, no. I wasn’t in the hospital…my mom was. Really glad she’s okay now!) It’s funny that they denied her at first and it took me a few phonecalls and a document to get them to accept her. Now that the hospital business has been taken care of, it means that I don’t have to take next semester off. I mean, damn, I’ve already had to take three semesters off due to financial circumstances, which is why I’m sort of treating the year or two of college that I am filling in as grad school schedule. It worked out perfectly because I never intended on moving onto grad school. (don’t get me started with “then why didn’t you go for instate college?” ‘cause I’ll say this again…if I had stayed in FL, shit would have gotten shittier and let’s leave it at that).
Anyway, there are other things running through my mind now. Like what the hell I’m going to do after college. Since I’ve dabbled into too many things over the past few years, I’ve taken interest in a lot of things to the point where I am now officially having a hard time narrowing it down to that one particular career field. They say that it’s good to have options. Um, no it’s not. Dude, I’m on a verge of a meltdown here. I just want option A—fuck option B, C, D, E, Fuck you etc. Yeah, so it’s nice to hear people say “Mayumi, you are capable of a lot of things! I’m sure you’ll have a bright future” HA! Okay, you’re A) just being nice B) don’t care about me at all and just saying that to discontinue this conversation or C) your judgments are substandard, if not, the worst.
And then I have job, exams, and project that are contributing to this stress. Some people tell me I should quit my job and take out loans, drop out of school, or terminate the project to take the edge off a bit. No, shit. Thanks for the great advice, like I’m that dumb to not have been able to consider that as one of my options. EASIER SAID THAN DONE, BITCH.
So what exactly am I trying to get from you by writing this? Nothing. In matter of fact, you’re just the bystander of my vent posts. This is a caged space. The best you can do is look at it, but cannot intervene unless if you’re some guru made of fear who is willing to take a step to the other side of the barrier.
Also, I am not at Robercon. Yeah, pretty pissed ‘cause I have a lot of shit to attend to soon.
Instant lemon iced tea tastes like blood these days. Why is that?