Entering Bat Country
I’m looking for a cure to Insomnia, so I decided to update my Livejournal.
I have nothing interesting to say at the moment. So naturally, like all good, self-centered bores who corner you at parties, I’ll talk about myself.
Looks like work has dried up for Pappa and me again. Now he’ll have to sell the family farm, or else peddle little sister’s ass out, if she stand still for it. But what it really means is that I’ll have to get a “real” job, like the rest of you fucking peasants. It means I won’t be able to tell my boss to “fuck off and pick up that hammer yourself, you lazy bastard,” when I’m given an order. Also, I may have to wear a uniform, and proudly salute the corporate banner, and chant the loyalty song each morning as we prepare to have our souls and humanity torn from us by hours of menial, mind-numbing work that might as easily be performed by a trained ape. And worse even (cringe,) I may have to deal with obese troglodytes, freshly crawled from their hovels, wearing sweat-pants never intended for asses of such girth, and dragging their screaming, foul-mouthed, de-evolved herd of offspring with them, often through the use of child-leashes. Screaming, “No Taylor, no!” As the precocious youngster attempts to insert his penis into a gumball machine. Good times are ahead, friends.
Also, what is happening for spring break? It looks like I might be trapped in this place like you. As Bill Murray said in “Lost in Translation” (paraphrase): “I’m trying to organize a prison break, are you in?” But because I have no realistic hope of leaving Denton, what is happening around here? This may only be a one horse town, but a surprising amount of fun can be had with a bottle of booze and a horse tied to a hitching post. Andrew knows what I mean. Right buddy? Remember that time in Houston, on that business trip, when we slept with those two hookers, but in the morning we realized they were actually horses? Man, my face sure was red.
Also, I know St. Patty’s day is on Wednesday, but through some mistake, it seems I am only twenty. I know all you bastards will be at the bars, drinking and laughing. Enjoy your green beer. Smug bastards. But for those of us who aren’t 21: JD, myself……uh…..that’s about it, what’s going on? Also, what is happening for spring break in general. I want my fun in the sun, goddamn it!
I have nothing interesting to say at the moment. So naturally, like all good, self-centered bores who corner you at parties, I’ll talk about myself.
Looks like work has dried up for Pappa and me again. Now he’ll have to sell the family farm, or else peddle little sister’s ass out, if she stand still for it. But what it really means is that I’ll have to get a “real” job, like the rest of you fucking peasants. It means I won’t be able to tell my boss to “fuck off and pick up that hammer yourself, you lazy bastard,” when I’m given an order. Also, I may have to wear a uniform, and proudly salute the corporate banner, and chant the loyalty song each morning as we prepare to have our souls and humanity torn from us by hours of menial, mind-numbing work that might as easily be performed by a trained ape. And worse even (cringe,) I may have to deal with obese troglodytes, freshly crawled from their hovels, wearing sweat-pants never intended for asses of such girth, and dragging their screaming, foul-mouthed, de-evolved herd of offspring with them, often through the use of child-leashes. Screaming, “No Taylor, no!” As the precocious youngster attempts to insert his penis into a gumball machine. Good times are ahead, friends.
Also, what is happening for spring break? It looks like I might be trapped in this place like you. As Bill Murray said in “Lost in Translation” (paraphrase): “I’m trying to organize a prison break, are you in?” But because I have no realistic hope of leaving Denton, what is happening around here? This may only be a one horse town, but a surprising amount of fun can be had with a bottle of booze and a horse tied to a hitching post. Andrew knows what I mean. Right buddy? Remember that time in Houston, on that business trip, when we slept with those two hookers, but in the morning we realized they were actually horses? Man, my face sure was red.
Also, I know St. Patty’s day is on Wednesday, but through some mistake, it seems I am only twenty. I know all you bastards will be at the bars, drinking and laughing. Enjoy your green beer. Smug bastards. But for those of us who aren’t 21: JD, myself……uh…..that’s about it, what’s going on? Also, what is happening for spring break in general. I want my fun in the sun, goddamn it!