it smells like monday. i’m pretty sure it tastes like monday but i’m not willing to go there.
and yet it’s thursday and the whole day seems kinda icky so far. it’s relatively cool out, but just humid and muggy enough that it makes everything feel gross. to make matters feel even grosser, there is no hot water in the apt. which usually isn’t a problem when it’s 95 degrees out with 200% humidity and all you want to do is live in an icy cold shower just to avoid the sticky-hot disgusting outside. but on a 68 degree morning where everything is downright chilly, a cold shower is NOT ideal. by no means.
ugh.
i have so few problems with my spiffy apartment, that i shouldn’t get so upset, but…meh. i feel gross.
yesterday was the 4th of july and today feels like a monday. something about that is grossly unfair, i think. really, horribly unfair. maybe because i didn’t even get to blow anything up. tragical.
to put it best:
You know all those PSAs about fireworks safety that start showing up around the 4th of July? Don’t they just make you want to blow shit up?!! Only in America can you drive down a dirt road in Arkansas and buy 2-for-1 packs of Roman candles and something called a Boss Hog that weighs 14 pounds and requires that you sign a paper promising you won’t set it off unless there’s a fire marshall present. Here’s a little nugget they don’t teach you in history class: The Revolutionary War was just an elaborate excuse to set off some pimp fireworks. Taxation without representation? Whatever, man. Those dudes just wanted a light show.
But fuck “official” fireworks displays. Our wet dreams involve bringing explosives back to the compound and lighting them out of our mouths for the enjoyment of friends and enemies. Just remember kids, fireworks are all fun and games until someone loses an eye. And then it’s still pretty fun, because you get painkillers. —NP
le sigh.
everything in the world that is fun is banned in massachusetts, because god forbid anyone enjoy themselves in this barren, heathen state of miscreants and douchebags. ugh!
i didn’t even trudge down to the smelly, putrid river (in the rain!) to watch the fireworks over the city or turn on the tv to catch the broadcast; because really, where is the fun in that? if you can’t blow shit up on your own, have some grilled meat and a few drinks to celebrate…then what is the fuckin’ point of celebrating?
pfffffffffffffffffffffffft!
i did, however enjoy my 4th. so much that coming to work today was just a bitter experience. a bucket of sangria, john mcclaine blowin’ shit up just the way i love, and a boy. also: chinese food. because the chinese don’t give a shit about the 4th and they make delicious meat on sticks and therefore i love them forevermore.
today can still eat my balls.
but someday, i’m going to have a command center just like kevin smith.
