It completely sucks

You know what, I like being alone. I like sitting in a chair in front of a computer watching porn and laughing because there's nothing else to laugh at. I like listening to "The Passenger" on a loop and hoping nobody walks in because I'm not sure but I think that song might be considered totally lame by a bunch of hardcore cool
kids who I would totally hang out with. I like thinking about how I actually suck pretty bad on the hole (get it?) but that's okay 'cause I got time, so don't be a self-pitying little FAGGOT (too late). Man, I sure do like not going to mechanical bull riding and not getting drunk and enjoying myself on one of my last nights in Montreal. Yeah, I love this man. This rules, it is completely radical.

Duncan! You are not going to let this woman drive you out of your house!

It would rule to be an awesome dude. I guess I'll have to settle for being an alright guy. Sort of a silver medal if you will. On that note, gold is pretty terrible, huh? It's gaudy and yellow (the second-worst colour) and it has this unfortunate association with a culture and credo based utterly upon "conspicuous consumption" (to directly plagiarize from Achewood) which I do fie upon. Also, it has this kind of weird sound to it like a giant very gently crushing crystal glasses with his pinky while tittering like a gay little idiot. FUCK THE HOMOSEXUALS, BITCH YEEEEAAAHH!!! Look at how subversive I am. I am being offensive. It is ironic.

Irony has gotten a bad rap lately, but that is only because it requires a minimum of two hundred pages to execute with any kind of subtlety. Otherwise you are a nineteen year old girl in a pixie haircut wearing Buddy Holly glasses and a Thundercats T-shirt talking about how great the nineties were. Fuck that. Either that or you are a man in a turtleneck talking about Kirkegaard and spewing out the words post and modern from between your goatee laden lips, and if you are that guy I swear to Shiva I will punch you in your smirking face.

I'm full of bitterness and bagels. I feel like Woody Allen. I even sort of look like him. How totally sick is that.

I have a lot of trouble making jokes to people I don't know extremely well, because I have this tendency to say something completely boring and then weakly try and follow it up with a joke and I just end up running away and hiding behind the wedding cake (because I am at a wedding). Even with people I am comfortable with, I end up getting the skitters and descending into a mumbling shell of a man hiding behind a wedding cake.

This has been the minutiae of my life. I hope you enjoyed hearing every dull detail of myself. I wish I was more intelligent and unhappy, then I could be a starving artist.