It's tough being so mainstream.
I also like the Hunger Games series now. How's that for a corporate sellout? Also, I've run myself into the ground with debt, mostly for brand name clothes and TV seasons on DVD.
Also, I'm thinking of having several children out of wedlock and getting a Snooki-related tramp stamp.
Finally, society will validate my existence!
And, in conclusion, I'm writing this to take a break from my Sea World application. I'm wondering if I can design a show where Shamu tries to eat me and I fight him off my rippling biceps and boyish charm. (Full disclosure, it's not the biceps themselves that ripple...)
I want to marry this girl:
And have this baby:
I'm not a scientist, but I'm pretty sure if we conceive in the Bamboo Panda bathroom, it's totally possible. (Fuller disclosure: yes, this is a picture I found after Googling "cute baby". Don't judge. I'm not picky.)
But really, she's amazingly talented. I listen to her CD's approximately all of my life and eternity. I got a D on the approximation unit of my 8th grade math class, so you'd think I'd know my best subject a little better. BOOM GOES THE DYNAMITE.
Today my acupuncturist (I spelled that wrong once on my iPhone a month ago and it continues to haunt me by autocorrecting even when I spell it right) tried something new, since it's been a rough week. She hooked up little electrical things to two of my needles, one in my left hand and one in my right ear. She turned the machine thing up and told me to say when I felt it. I didn't say it fast enough, so my ear and arm went crazy and I felt like I was going to throw up my brain, but luckily she turned it down again. In the end, I fell asleep while resting for the first time, and she decided to just let me electro-sleep in there for like an hour and a half. The whole thing had some Kevorkian fan-fic potential, but she didn't even make a move. In case you're wondering, my acupuncturist is super hot and has both a nose ring and a doctorate of medicine. I'm not sure which came first. Either way, I can finally fulfill my having-women-stab-me-with-needles fetish. It's a relief to be able to stop dating heroin addicts.
I'm listening to Tina Fey's "Bossypants" on audiobook. It's quite humorous, though I haven't heard the word "vagina" spoken more times in a day since I told a girlfriend my theory about the word itself. I explained that it was a word created by the Catholic church in the early 1600s to scare young boys away from them. (I fully support them in this endeavor, as the only thing more hideous than the word itself is the orifice it describes.) The girl then proceeded to litter our conversation with "the V word" until I finally snapped and broke her pelvis with a baseball bat. One part of that story is not true, can you guess which? (You win, it was actually invented by the Greek Orthodox's.)
For a very brief time in high school I had the nickname of "the Bear Jew" or "BJ", and I have the birthday card to prove it. I was well known for giving painfully exuberant bear hugs, and when a large group of us went to see Inglourious Basterds, which features a Bear Jew that beats Nazis to death with a baseball bat, the name just seemed to fit. It didn't stick, though, so I eventually ended the post abruptly.
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