i’m.so.angry.i’m.shaking.
i fucking hate this…
mine :
category : wrath
comments : nada mucho
mine :
how you won’t treat me like a fucking adult so that all it ultimately does is end up making me feel petulant and childish.
because there is no response that will make me sound any less childish than you’ve implied. fuck.
mine :
category : wrath
comments : nada mucho
mine :
this domain has been up for less than 24 hours and i got spammed hardcore.
so much poker, home equity loans and other random bullshit comments. fuck that. so until i get everything banned from those ips, all comments will need approval before they get posted.
not like anybody comments anyway. wow fucking spam.
also, i’m irritable cuz my body was trying to eat me last night and for at least 20 minutes all i heard OVER MY MOS DEF was the dude next door either wanking vigorously or fucking.
meh.
mine :
category : wrath
comments : nada mucho
mine :
what
the
fuck?
no, seriously…i mean…there is nothing, absolutely NOTHING i lust after more than a classic ‘stang. i mean, talk about motorboner…i have ‘stang-dar, too. it doesn’t matter where i am or what i’m doing, if there is a mustang in a 5 mile radius i zero in on it. i dissolve into a quivering mass of drooling idolatry and just…relish it.
i *will* sell body parts for a classic mustang, i shit you not. but why — why God WHY?! — is the ford co. continually bastardizing a great piece of machinery?
mustangs after 1970, for example, i have no use for. they are basically a mazda with a horse slapped on the front and emblazoned on the interior in a manner no different than giving a whore $20 to dress up like a nun one night. it’s the same principle. trying to pass off inferior goods for the real thing. now a classic ‘stang, there is a thing of beauty, my friends.
and here they’re rolling out with the mustang 2005 and trying to spin it like they’re ‘going retro’ and ‘back to the roots’ of the epitome of mustang greatness, but all it really is is this giant bastardization of a fabulous machine. take a ’68 gt500…[insert swoon here] — shelby, hallowed be thy name — now THAT is a car. a truly fine automobile.
these new mustangs, while they are attempting to go back to that uber-sexy body style of yore, lack a little something. and to put it point blank, they are ugly as fuck.
i mean, the goal is to one day sell a limb that is not vital to the driving process and/or various organs so that i could some day afford a classic mustang. this is all in the event that i cannot bring myself to breed even for love of a fabulous vehicle — because if i ever do decide that my love of classic cars eclipses my revulsion at ever spawning, then i will spawn immediately, sell the offspring to slavery and/or the black market and get me some kicky new wheels. you dig?
but just…why take pieces of a classic style and mutate it with the fiber-glass mazda craptacular design that ford has been churning out for the last thirty years?
why?
it just doesn’t make sense.
mine :
category : wrath
comments : nada mucho
mine :
so i work the unholy hours, right? right. and i’m there so much i’m missin’ out on things with the friends and passing out anytime i try to watch a fuckin’ movie with scooter and such. but i’m like, it’ll give me kizzash for when i need to buy *my* books for school and whatnot and that justifies it, right? i’m doin’ it for a good reason, so it’s not that bad. and everyone at the bookstore is pretty nice and whatnot. they really are…you dig?
but there a few things that my pseudo-optimism just can’t ignore:
- hellacious hours not amounting to dick in paycheck form
- super stanky girl making me nauseous (and everyone else) …cuz she’s STANKY!
- people coming in sick, and spreading their fuckin’ nasty germs everywhere
- the students
catching a fucking cold. i can feel it, i know it’s there…and oh oh oh…wait for it…wait…yeah…RIGHT BEFORE SCHOOL STARTS. i am not amused.
i’m also not amused that i go to bed freakishly late and am up by 6 am no matter what. even without an alarm. what the fuck, indeed.
/rant
mine :
category : wrath
comments : nada mucho
mine :
god it’s humid.
i mean, it’s fucking, face-melting h u m i d…and has been all god damned day. all damned weekend actually. new england weather seems to be seriously lacking in a middle ground. it’s either so painfully frigid you can’t think of anything save for just how badly you wish you could sell your own mamma just to feel your fingers again…or it’s so dank and oppressively humid that even sleeping makes you sweat too much.
mine :
