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The Internet Hates Me and Wants Me to Die I don't understand how a piece of computer equipment can just cease to work. You do not DIE until I SMASH you, and I do not SMASH you until you DIE. So you should live for at least a year, stupid modem. Anyway, this is what I wrote in my big long Word document while my internet was comatose.Thursday night: Like, dude. MTV is so hip and now, they got people up there wearing toilet paper. They got shots of AFI forcing a laugh for the camera. Omigod, who listens to AFI anyway, they’re like soooo weird. They got a nomination for Johnny Cash, ‘cause they’re really all about the music, all diverse and indie an’ shit. Wait, Johnny Cash isn’t indie? Then who the hell is he, bro? They got Tony Hawk and Bam Margera skateboarding onto the stage, I mean, ‘cause that’s what they do, that’s them, that’s who they is and ain’t nobody gonna make them hide it, man. They got Good Charlotte with…er…a giant box of cheerleaders. Or something. They got white guys talkin’ like they from the hood, they even have more than one of those this year. I mean, man, you know what I mean? That’s innovative. They got jokes that have already been told by other people and a host that’s hosted, what, 10 times? ‘Cause hey, old is the new new, fo shizzle. But a little bird told me that my favorite homosexuals (tm Piehole) are making an appearance. So I watch. Sigh. At least Amy Lee from Evanescence looks great. *whisper* I have a bit of a girl-crush on her. Hey, if Sagen gets Eliza Dushku… Oh. How sad. I thought Jane’s Addiction’s new album was doing alright. Apparently Dave Navarro is having to play gigs with Christina and Mariah now. Sorry. I won’t recap, not my job. Gasp. “BARBERA STREISAND!” Carson, you own me. I can only imagine the giggles that were had when 50 Cent thanked Eminem and called him his “pahtnah.” Sorry, sorry. Friday night: I wrote the best note ever to Katie in health this morning. It was about how Carson owns me, and how I’m really a gay boy at heart (long-distance high five to Sammie, who is GONE *cries*), and how orange my health book was, and the story in it about Incest Girl, and how I had a bunch of songs stuck in my head, and the badly paraphrased lyrics to those songs, which included Bowl of Oranges, Blitzkrieg Bop, and One Man Guy. And the teacher in her next class snatched it before she read it. A total waste of note writing skills. I only hope that I succeeded in freaking said teacher out completely. It’s entirely possible that I did. I have a bad, bad history with notes. I got two taken up last year and got in trouble for both. Just a little old “damn,” who does that hurt? Fucking Boy would fucking laugh in your fucking face, man. At least I got a shirt that says “Happy Times” with two little people holding hands today. Huzzah, new Hug Day attire. I heart Aaron. Loser Boy: “Hey. Dude. Are you really gay?” (I throw up my hands, give an exasperated “Arrgh”, attempt to storm away, and run headfirst into the teacher. But that’s beside the point.) Aaron: “Why does it matter?” LB: (to me) “Fine then, you tell me. Is he?” Me: “I don’t KNOW. I don’t CARE. Why does it matter so much to you?” LB: “I think he is. ‘Cause every time I ask, you guys are like, it doesn’t matter.” Aaron: “Well, it doesn’t. It’s not relevant. Unless you’re interested in me.” All: “…” Me: “(snerk) ” LB: “(disgusted face) Um, which I’m NOT. (walks away uncomfortably)” My friends are smart! My friends are smart! *cartwheels* It’s so uncommon ‘round these parts. If only I could get online to talk to Sagen and how we won the football game and how my friends are smart. Damn this modem and its “I feel like dying now”-ness. Now I’m off to bed at a reasonable hour. What is the world coming to? Tonight: Um. Yes. Well, I didn't exactly write anything since Friday, and I've had my internet back since Saturday. I cannot tell a lie. Wait. Yes I can. Eva, Ashley M and I had a Johnny Depp movie fest last night. Fear And Loathing in Las Vegas. Wow. Possibly the most bizarre thing I've ever seen, but great. "This is bat country!" Boy, do I love a good drug movie. (I left too early to see Blow, though. Dagnabit.) Sleepy Hollow was good and scary. Johnny fainted a lot and wore eyeliner. Cry-Baby was hilarious. A lot like Hairspray. "You got it, Allison. You got it RAW." "I'm burnin' inside to kiss you, baby." So cheesy. I might just have to buy it. We went to White Water today. I'm sun-kissed. Like a lobster. *claw* 2003-09-01 @ 10:47 p.m. |