I would really like to talk about irritating bus men who talk to their wives on the phone about stopping in Sears to look for some new khakis but they didn't have the ones with the waistband he likes so he's going to try the Bay tomorrow...but I'm just not in the mood. I'm more in the mood to complain about my life.
I really feel that as far as my own existence goes that I don't have much to complain about...but that's never really stopped me. May I first say that I wish facebook was actually for keeping in touch with friends and family instead of a snooping frenzy where people compare their looks and their lives and their relationships with one another. I wish I could go on facebook without feeling an overwhelming urge to look up my exes and wonder who that hipster bitch is in that picture, God she has a shiny face, I hope she doesn't think that wearing a silk scarf and having a nose ring makes her unique...and then I wonder, who am I to insult Picture Girl? She didn't do anything to me. I have nose rings. I wear silk scarves. But by smiling next to someone I once fucked, she is a bitch. At least I have a small sense of pride in the fact that I can compare myself with people I went to high school with, and take comfort in the fact that I have created a life for myself that no longer involves going to the same bars on weekends and having parties in my parents' basement.
Also. Lakeview Terrace looks really terrible. Fuck off already, Samuel L. Jackson. We all get it. You're very slick. You swear. You wear Kangol hats. We're all very impressed.