Can't Say I'm Impressed

Blogger, you wretched whore.  I've changed your design more times than I can count the times I've kicked a dog because it didn't say "meow". 

I was looking over my other blog, the blog that has about four years or so of semi-steady blogging and realized that the design was never an issue.  It was black, organized, and easily not distracting.  It allowed you to eat up the text instead of squinting at the abstract whatevers in the background.  No noise, just words. 

I liked that.  And so I'm going back to that sort of thing. 

I'm only on here right now, in all honesty, because I can't fucking sleep. 

Here's to oblivion anyway because what the fuck else is there to say at 9am on a Sunday morning?

Ciao, adios, later.

PS: Wtf is the point of tags?  They annoy me to no end.  Fuck em.  Unless it's really necessary, I ain't tagging shit. 



There.  TAGGED.  Happy?

Late Night/Early Morning: A Collection of Words to Form Sentences

There was a very wise old man who had lived secluded on a mountaintop who seemed to have so many great pieces of wisdom for all of the people in the surrounding villages.

He's dead now.

But!

We, the good people of wherever, whenever, are still alive and kicking.  And we are oh, so full of utter and jam-packed bullshit!  YES!  Can I get an amen, here! HULLALUDLf;jDjfjdfnda

Anyway.  A bit on the bitter side.  Rawness at the forefront.  And I'm not even close to making any apologies.
There's so many very bad things going on right now.  I'd love to write about them but I'm afraid I only have time to rant about one thing.

Or maybe more than one thing.  I don't know yet.  I'm just winging this one.

Focus, you bastard!  Christ, I can't seem to get a hold on any one thought.  It's nearing 4am,[edit:4:30am] I have to be up in five hours for class and then I get to spend the rest of the day moving.  I'm hopped up on stupid energy drinks and my mind is damn near broken.  More broken, rather.


I'm hoping for martial law.  Then I can justify killing idiots.  But the question is, would I have enough time?

No, killing is for soldiers.  I'll steal what I can in twinkies and head for the woods.  I'm not a lover but fuck if I'm a fighter.  However, I have had some anger issues welling up inside me.  Pretty sure that one of these days I'm going to punch the living fuck out of this idiot I work with.

But it's easier to just fantasize about it.  Less consequences.
Consequences.
Those really ruin my hair day.  Which is funny because I have no hair. Well.  To be fair, my ass is a regular Willie Nelson.


Right.  I could've gone all year without that visual as well.  LET IT SOAK IN.

In softer yet still crushing news:
My roommate's cats were given away today.  You didn't know these beasts so it probably has little to no effect on anyone reading this trite nonsense.  But I've been a cat person since I was a kid.  And these two cats?

THEY WERE GODS.

Well, they were fucking awesome.  Weird and cute.  Strange and kickable.  Good friends.  It's the second time I've gotten attached to a pair of these furry miscreants and it's the second time they've had to be given away.  And it makes me sad.

Giacomo (Jock-ay-mo) and Merlin, I'll miss ya you fucks.

Oh, dear god.  It is late.  Hooboy.  Fucked, I am.  But that's nothing new.  Ce la vie.

That's it for now.  Tune in next month as I explore the use of Scientology in Fundamental Christian teachings.  And yes, I'm bringing a gun.