Destroy yourself, or else have someone do it for you.

"My iPod has an All Time Low boner!"

"I have strokes of genius all the time."
[spazzes out] "Oh wait, that's a seizure of genius. Never mind."

"Pop Tarts are NOT lunch, god dammit!"

"Aww, come on, guys. Make fun of me. I'll be your lightning rod of hate!"

"You fuckers had all day to jack off in class. Now focus!" Thank you, Shawn. We love you too.

One of the interns in one of my classes pronounces irrational with an e. eRational. It drives me insane.

I've been rotting my brain out with movies and reading and writing. Maybe. Does it really count as brain-rotting if it's intellectually stimulating? Currently on is Fight Club. As I heard several times last night, a mental mindfuck can be nice.

Oh yes, that's right. I went to Rocky Horror for the first time last night. There were so many other virgins; apparently even more came after the initiation. I got a little bit of special treatment because the people I went with are semi-friends with the cast; a tasteful V on my cheek, the good kind of attention, minimal ribbing for being a Virgin. Fun as shit, and strangely freeing. We went out to breakfast with some of the cast afterwards, and that was awesome too. They're the exact breed of strange that I love.

I'm definitely losing my mind. Have I been Tyler longer and longer?

You've Got My Head Spinning, Heart Beating Out of My Chest

"I would rather my gods be fallible than phallic."

"Lockjaw means never having to say I'm sorry."

"You're always kind of figuratively talking about sex." College professors are so much more interesting than high school teachers.


Title: only not really. Mostly I just have a headache. I rather bad one, to be honest. Much like Mono, you shouldn't be allowed to wake up with headaches without getting to get blind drunk first. Or I could just be eradicated of these migraines. That works too.

Today was another day where I didn't want to get out of bed, and not the usual ugh-not-enough-sleep-gotta-go-to-class kind. The I-don't-want-to-get-up-ever kind. Convenient then that I picked up Amanda Palmer's new CD yesterday, and my brother described it as "really depressing." Odd. That wasn't even one of the worse songs. I will admit though that her solo album is less of the frantic delicious piano punk rock love that is usual of the Dresden Dolls. But hey, she's an individual and let no one say otherwise.

Ew. I just crushed a bug on my screen. That's really gross. Oh, lovely, and my head feels like it's going to explode because I coughed. Today's gonna be one of those days.

FTW

And "FTW", girls and boys, stands for Fuck The World. First this morning I get people shooting me dirty looks for wearing my awesome hat which they probably thought was stupid. Next I came back from Italian to move my car and there's a fucking parking ticket on my windshield. Fifty bucks. So long 4 shows I would've gone to. All because I have the common sense of chicken soup and can't fucking remember to check when street cleaning is. Then just when I'm starting to stop being pissed off, I almost pass out in Karate. I'm sort of used to my vision being weird and seeing auras occasionally, but I should have worried when my mental commentary of "Straighten your vision" became "Don't vomit, don't vomit," and right before my vision blackened that became "Don't pass out." I have this lovely fucking tendency to embarrass myself in front of large groups of people. Bad enough I look ridiculous because my gi doesn't fit and can't handle how fucking hot it is in the gym.

I'm worried to leave the house, lest something else happened to me today. I really want to go see the Matches tonight though. It's Dylan's first show and I want to be there to distract him. My half-sister has a volleyball game I'm supposed to pick her up from, though. I don't want to.

Someone knock me out and don't wake me til 21.

Trouble, betch.

So today is a week from the official first day of school for me, and after many mornings of the same, I find myself sitting outside the cafe with my laptop open. Don't I have anything better to do? Well, no. I don't have class for another half an hour.

But the terrible thing about sitting out in the nippy morning-- I'll be wishing it's this temperature when I'm walking to my later classes-- is that I have a terrible cold and sound completely ridiculous when I'm forced to talk. Gods know I don't want to, except if it's to imitate Jack Barakat, because that I will admit is hilarious.

My point, if I have one, is just to note some observations I made today. When I sat down at this table, there were two gentlemen... uh, guys... smoking at the table beside me. I don't mind smoking, but I do mind being stared at; it makes me nervous. I've seen far too many movies to not think being watched is a bad thing.

Actually I think I should shut the hell up writing right now, because I keep getting distracted by my own thoughts connected to the girls walking by and the conversation at the party I went to Monday. I really think too much. But at least I don't talk too much.

...I can totally see why guys enjoy watching girls walk by.