Ok so i have not updated this motherfucker for a millenia. (And this is because Girlie pointed this out that I was made aware of this.) But here we are. A friday night. And I decide to -- of all things, jump on livejournal and impart to thee, the very mundane daily recount of ben's quite mundane day. Now I'm here on a Friday night, the townhouse COMPLETELY devoid of any Samuys or Mendozas. No.. no no no.. only a Deguzman who -- sadly enough, did not really have anything momentous to do tonight and therefore took this..
No really.
I took a picture.
Of myself.
Like a 16 year old girl who swims in the ocean of narcissism as she broadcasts something unintelligent in the void we call myspace or facebook. Now THAT, my children.. that is boredom at it's best. But what of I? I find myself brain fried. Only because the 9 to 5 (10 to 7, specifically) calls that I have James Bond reloading his gun.
No. Really.
That's what I was doing all day. I was making James Bond reload his gun.
No, I was animating him, you daff. I wasn't in make-believe land.
And.. I'm also watching Pirates 2 on cable. Now, take in mind, I thought this movie was horrid. Particularly because it was like 5 hours fucking long and really made me --at the time of viewing-- look at my cell phone to see exactly how long I've wasted watching it. And a year later, I watched Pirates 3 to feel the exact something.. only that I actually watched it ONLINE and STILL checked my cell phone to see how long I wasted in front of the computer to watch complete and utter trash. Pirates 3 is SO bad, it made Spider-Man 3 look like a masterpiece. And that, my dear people, is Ben's friday night.. sad as it is.. it almost comforts me that I can laugh at it and make merry and be content and be at ease and love life and do the dew and sound the trumpets. And that is that. OK.. well, I apologize if this entry really doesn't get anywhere.. it's kind of a fluke thing that I even decided to log into this motherfucker.
My children.. my children. Be hella good to eachother. And don't forget that we are only what the media defines us as.
And that I'm working on this...
recognize this? No? Oh you bastards. It's a work in progress. Just wait. It'll be pure love. Adieu, my children.. hopefully saturday will be a little more productive. And at least on Sunday I know I have dim sum with the homegirls. Night.