Saturday, August 23, 2003
<Note: The following paragraph is to be read in a southern accent. Please forgive my lack of inclusion of southern pronunciation in spelling>
Okay, so I'm layin' on my bed, mindin' my own business and readin' the glorious Atlas Shrugged, and in comes Julia - wavin' her arms in the air preachin' to me about all loving the french and doing drugs and stuff. I mean, she must have been really wasted. Keep in mind this was after 2 am. Lisa had just gone to bed, and Julia said she would follow. Of course, she got on one of those pro-stupid-stuff highs that happens about every year for most people and usually doesn't last very long. But, with Julia, well, lets just say I don't know if she has pro-stupid or pro-not-stupid or anti-stupid highs. It is really hard to tell. I suppose it depends on what is stupid being what is blatantly not true, and after all, isn't truth subjective? "Ve don't care, ve still vant ze moo-nay Lebowzky" (Damn German nihilists) Oh well, now that my stomach is bitching (You women will never reclaim it, Lisa! Not as long as the crows breed apple pie and elephants are hatched. Besides, given that everything is subjective, are we all both women and not-women?) about not having eaten in twelve hours, I'm going to spite it some more and finish reading before bed. Take that bodily functions, you'll never take me alive!
<stomach acid eats away inner lining and starts digesting vital organs>
"Ahhhh! my appendix! Wait, I don't need that! Take that stomach! And take this!"
<stabs gut with ice pick, Bateman style>
<slowly bleeds to death while stomach acid leaves the appendix and retargets the spleen>
"You don't know what your life is, nor what you're doing, nor who you are." - Dionysos, Euripides' Bakkhai
Okay, so I'm layin' on my bed, mindin' my own business and readin' the glorious Atlas Shrugged, and in comes Julia - wavin' her arms in the air preachin' to me about all loving the french and doing drugs and stuff. I mean, she must have been really wasted. Keep in mind this was after 2 am. Lisa had just gone to bed, and Julia said she would follow. Of course, she got on one of those pro-stupid-stuff highs that happens about every year for most people and usually doesn't last very long. But, with Julia, well, lets just say I don't know if she has pro-stupid or pro-not-stupid or anti-stupid highs. It is really hard to tell. I suppose it depends on what is stupid being what is blatantly not true, and after all, isn't truth subjective? "Ve don't care, ve still vant ze moo-nay Lebowzky" (Damn German nihilists) Oh well, now that my stomach is bitching (You women will never reclaim it, Lisa! Not as long as the crows breed apple pie and elephants are hatched. Besides, given that everything is subjective, are we all both women and not-women?) about not having eaten in twelve hours, I'm going to spite it some more and finish reading before bed. Take that bodily functions, you'll never take me alive!
<stomach acid eats away inner lining and starts digesting vital organs>
"Ahhhh! my appendix! Wait, I don't need that! Take that stomach! And take this!"
<stabs gut with ice pick, Bateman style>
<slowly bleeds to death while stomach acid leaves the appendix and retargets the spleen>
"You don't know what your life is, nor what you're doing, nor who you are." - Dionysos, Euripides' Bakkhai
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