You are currently browsing the monthly archive for August, 2007.
Ok so, fuck. I haven’t been writing on this site at all lately. See, that’s the thing with me. I come up with these amazing, grandiose ideas (often while high or drunk), putter around with them for awhile, and then give up. Is this unusual? Probably not. Do I really care? Not really. But, you know, I’ll keep going until I don’t feel like it anymore…and right now I still feel like it.
And that brings us to our next topic of discussion: friendship. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about my friends and the concept of friendship in general. Now, don’t get me wrong… I have friends. A lot of them. Most of them are pretty annoying. But I’ve been thinking about what exactly makes a friend an friend and how somebody becomes a friend, and why we want people to be our friends.
In particular, I’ve been thinking about my closest friends, and why they are my friends.
……..this post will have to be continued some other time. I’ve already lost interest. A lot.
Ok, I am in love with that old Duran Duran song ‘The Reflex’! It’s just such a bizarre song. And fuck you all who think the song is lame. I’m not particularly fond of any of Duran Duran’s other songs (except for ‘Ordinary World’, which always been one of my faves), but whatever. ‘The Reflex’ is cool.
Ok, so apparently Russia went to the North Pole today and planted their fucking flag on the Arctic seabed, 4261 metres under water. Um…are they fucking out of their mind?!
I understand their desire to investigate whether or not Russia’s continental shelf extends to the Arctic. And I agree that, aside from Canada of course, Russia is the likely to hold claim to a majority of the Arctic Ocean (and the wealth of oils that lie under it). But, seriously. Planting a fucking flag on a territory that may or may not be yours is colonial at best, and juvenile and immature at worst.
I was just reading about that skinny little bitch Nicole Ritchie’s interview with Diane Sawyer. That bitch needs to get her fucking act together. Um, her show just got cancelled, she’s four months pregnant with a guy that she’s been dating for what, five months? And she’s on her way to jail (ok, it’s only for four days, but still). I mean, come on, this bitch is a non-celebrity. She’s not famous for anything other that being the coked-up, heroin-junkie, anorexic daughter of Lionel Ritchie.
If you chicks honestly like and respect this girl, then seriously, get your fucking heads examined.
As anyone who knows me knows, I don’t want to grow the fuck up (and I wish people would quit telling me to do so). I’m 22, and loving it. You know, your whole life ends once you hit 33. That’s when all the “responsibilities” kick in, and you start having to deal with families and fucking kids that you never planned on having, but ended up having anyways. The first third of your life is spent exploring life and having fun. Sitting back with a bottle of beer in one hand, a joint in the other, and a line of coke waiting for you on the table. Those are the fucking golden years, when you can do whatever the fuck you want, and nobody really gives a shit.
Then you enter the dreaded 2nd phase of life — 33 to 65. Middle age. Responsibilities start to kick in, and you begin to age. Can you imagine? You actually start to age and get wrinkles. Your hair falls out, you get fat, and if you’re not married by now, you’re pretty much never going to have sex again (unless, of course, you’re filthy rich and can buy the affection of blonde 21 year-olds). This is life’s cruel way of punishing you for having so much fun for the first thirty years of your life. It’s not called a fucking mid-life crisis for nothing, sucker.
And don’t even get me started on the last phase of life — life after 65. If you aren’t dead already, you’re clock is ticking away. Oh, but before you get to die, and be ridded of the burden of life, life is gonna play a few dirty tricks on you. You’ll go senile and struggle with incontinence. You’ll pretty much lose everyone that you ever loved or cared for, as one by one, they all fade away into the eternal nothingness that is death. And you’ll spend the last years of your life out of work, living on a pension, and twiddling your thumbs until they fall off — or god forbid, playing golf.
So yeah, enjoy your life while you still got the time, cause once you hit 33, it’s all downhill from there.
Yeah, you’re reading my blog, fucker. Just some random shit. Enjoy it…. or don’t.
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