Not much of anything
That gettins sleep thing last night was a good ass idea. I woke up well. Had a good day at school. Studied for my emt tests and whatnot. Reading The Kill Clause. It's good shit. I enjoy it thouroughly. I'm studying for the test and Erin Lalley was there. She was nice and offered a ride home. We got to talking and she likes Hunter S. Thompson which I thought was cool as shit. She's way cooler than I thought. Which kinda sounds like a diss, but I don't mean it like that. I knew she was cool but I didn't really have anything to base it on. Not that a five minute ride home is much either, but she's cool. I want to get a new kempo sweatshirt.... Damn I'm a boring fuck today. Not much to say I guess. I could just rant about the same old shit like usual, but nobody wants to hear that. So here's something new for your eyedomes.
I wonder how these fake ass hollister wearing motherfuckers keep up their charades some of the time. I mean how can you run around acting cool all the time? Don't you think you'd slip up once in a while and just be yourself? Nah, you wouldn't. You're too afraid to be rejected to do that. Ya know dude, you'd be waaaay more comfortable if you ran around in sweats like I do. But then again, I ain't trying to impress anybody. All I wanna do is represents psychopathic records, korn, and southtowns kempo every once in a while. I mean I like adidas. That's my favorite namebrand, and bleedat homie it don't cost eighty bucks for a sweater. Plus how could you pass up a tri striped pair of pants for some nuthuggers and a sweatshirt that cuts off the circulation to your nipples? Shit fool I'd run around in my favorite pair of gym shorts every day if they didn't get dirty. Sometimes I do that anyways. I can move and I'm comfy and I like the style. I guess if you have no nuts and chicken legs and a flat chest and no biceps you're comfy in that tight ass preppy hollister shit, so what the hell? Why not? Who am I to judge? Nigga if I looked like your holocaust survivor ass I just might roll around in nice tight pink t shirts too. That way all the chicks would fall all over me, all the guys would wanna jock my nuts and all the teachers would think I was such a great kid. And while I was at it, I might even start smoking. I hate the taste, smell, cost, and side effects of the shit, but I'd have a good conversation piece discussing my disgusting habits. I'd have a good pickup line too. "Hey, c'I bum a smoke?" I gotta hand it to you motherfuckers. You got plans. Hell, if I was wearing hollister and smoking, I'd be the shit. And you know what that means? Yeah, you got it. Parties. See all them bitches hoppin' on my shit would want me to come to they parties. I'd get so shitfaced I can't remember what happened. That's how you know it's a bomb ass party right? Shit, why would I wanna go somewhere I'm going to remember the next day? What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm such a square for having my faculties the next day enough to realize the mistakes I didn't make. And when I wake up next to a chick I don't even know I can say "thanks for... whatever bitch. Gotta go." And when she knocks on my door saying she's getting an abortion, and the aborted fucking fetus contains half my chromosomes, I can say "HEY BITCH! You best get off my property. You're making me late. I was supposed to meet the rest of my pink shirt wearing buddies at HOLLISTER ten minutes ago!" I'm going to school today, please nobody start any new trends before I get back, I just bought five pink sweaters that I haven't worn yet. If they're out of style when I get home what happens then? I can't wear anything my clique has a problem with. You change my paradigm and I'm gonna have to borrow more money from my rich daddy for this week's wardrobe. Why would I try something new? Why do I need an open mind? I don't. That's it. I'm gonna live in the suburbs, party in the city, go to college and follow in the path of my parents before me.
This is the type of person who burns out at fourty. I realize that now. You know how much energy it takes to be fake? I mean it takes a lot to be real, but damn. These are gross generalizations, and everybody finds interest in a trend or two. That makes me a hypocrite, but at least I know it. Nothing I can do about it, call me what you will. But everyone also needs to be fake once in a while, if only to save your ass. Otherwise I'd come into school with black eyes every time my dad says "Do you think i'm stupid?" Or a girl says "Do I look fat in this?" Well I just had an a.d.d. moment and lost my focus on this subject, so it's back to fuggin off you go.
I wonder how these fake ass hollister wearing motherfuckers keep up their charades some of the time. I mean how can you run around acting cool all the time? Don't you think you'd slip up once in a while and just be yourself? Nah, you wouldn't. You're too afraid to be rejected to do that. Ya know dude, you'd be waaaay more comfortable if you ran around in sweats like I do. But then again, I ain't trying to impress anybody. All I wanna do is represents psychopathic records, korn, and southtowns kempo every once in a while. I mean I like adidas. That's my favorite namebrand, and bleedat homie it don't cost eighty bucks for a sweater. Plus how could you pass up a tri striped pair of pants for some nuthuggers and a sweatshirt that cuts off the circulation to your nipples? Shit fool I'd run around in my favorite pair of gym shorts every day if they didn't get dirty. Sometimes I do that anyways. I can move and I'm comfy and I like the style. I guess if you have no nuts and chicken legs and a flat chest and no biceps you're comfy in that tight ass preppy hollister shit, so what the hell? Why not? Who am I to judge? Nigga if I looked like your holocaust survivor ass I just might roll around in nice tight pink t shirts too. That way all the chicks would fall all over me, all the guys would wanna jock my nuts and all the teachers would think I was such a great kid. And while I was at it, I might even start smoking. I hate the taste, smell, cost, and side effects of the shit, but I'd have a good conversation piece discussing my disgusting habits. I'd have a good pickup line too. "Hey, c'I bum a smoke?" I gotta hand it to you motherfuckers. You got plans. Hell, if I was wearing hollister and smoking, I'd be the shit. And you know what that means? Yeah, you got it. Parties. See all them bitches hoppin' on my shit would want me to come to they parties. I'd get so shitfaced I can't remember what happened. That's how you know it's a bomb ass party right? Shit, why would I wanna go somewhere I'm going to remember the next day? What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm such a square for having my faculties the next day enough to realize the mistakes I didn't make. And when I wake up next to a chick I don't even know I can say "thanks for... whatever bitch. Gotta go." And when she knocks on my door saying she's getting an abortion, and the aborted fucking fetus contains half my chromosomes, I can say "HEY BITCH! You best get off my property. You're making me late. I was supposed to meet the rest of my pink shirt wearing buddies at HOLLISTER ten minutes ago!" I'm going to school today, please nobody start any new trends before I get back, I just bought five pink sweaters that I haven't worn yet. If they're out of style when I get home what happens then? I can't wear anything my clique has a problem with. You change my paradigm and I'm gonna have to borrow more money from my rich daddy for this week's wardrobe. Why would I try something new? Why do I need an open mind? I don't. That's it. I'm gonna live in the suburbs, party in the city, go to college and follow in the path of my parents before me.
This is the type of person who burns out at fourty. I realize that now. You know how much energy it takes to be fake? I mean it takes a lot to be real, but damn. These are gross generalizations, and everybody finds interest in a trend or two. That makes me a hypocrite, but at least I know it. Nothing I can do about it, call me what you will. But everyone also needs to be fake once in a while, if only to save your ass. Otherwise I'd come into school with black eyes every time my dad says "Do you think i'm stupid?" Or a girl says "Do I look fat in this?" Well I just had an a.d.d. moment and lost my focus on this subject, so it's back to fuggin off you go.