Halloween Blows

The Richmond bar scene leaves a lot to be desired, but the 2 am shutdown has to be good for my soul. It's funny how guys, including myself, always think it'd be great if a chick made a move on them. Only problem is when it actually happens, it's just kind of creepy. If some girl is that aggressive, one's mind immediately starts screaming dirty whore dirty whore. And then I just feel bad for them, aww poor thing, are you really that desperate?
When I was foolin around on the facebook the other day, I realized that President Cooper is a registered member. He hasn't done a very good job with his profile, though, and although I really wanted to poke him, I managed to restrain myself. But really, what the fuck is he doing on there? Did he actually take the time to sign up for it? Man, I can guarantee he is stalking a bunch of freshmen sluts. What a dirtbag.
I had to put together an election guide thing for the paper today, and really, I know reporters are supposed to be impartial, but's it's almost impossible. As hard as I tried, almost everything is slanted towards the Democrat. Part of me feels like I'm failing in my job, but the the other part just says, fuck it, might as well have some fun with this.
I hate Halloween.

I'm a Terrible Person

This entry it dedicated to Dan (last name withheld by request- XXXXXXXXX: cause i don't want someone googling my name and this coming up)
I haven't really figured out how to put a title on these things. I'll have to set aside a day to learn how to do that. Anyway, I have a lot of free time on my hands, as I'm sure most people know, so last night I was looking over some of my journal entries from freshman year english class at UR. Most of them make me sick. Really, I was such a loser. Check out this entry from early in the year:
"Located in the foyer in all of the apartments I have been in has been a wooden table upon which people (mostly drunken guys) play beer pong. I won't even get into how stupid I think this game is. This brings me to my next point, alcohol consumption at these parties. The quantity of beer available and consumed at these parties is quite astonishing. I have to admit, it is quite difficult to have fun at these parties without a few beers in your system but many people drink just to get drunk, a concept I will never understand."
WTF...that really blows my mind now, especially considering that these days, most Friday nights, I drink to get destroyed. Most of the time it's off cheap vodka. Hell, I would do bodyshots off a decent looking guy if it meant a quick buzz.
I have to go back and add another group of people that I hate to my previous post: Old Hags. I was covering a public workshop type meeting tonight and everyone in the crowd looked like they had just been dug up from the ground (some of them still had mud in their hair). But really, I have no desire to live past the age of 60. These people in the audience were just so sad looking and I'm pretty sure a few of them dirtied their diapers during the meeting. Btw, the meeting was about the future of a particular area of town and all of these old whores bitched about everything under the moon. I just wanted to stand up and say, "Shut up, please. You are going to be dead by tomorrow morning." The sad thing is that all these old people that come to these town meetings and to a greater extent, cast votes in elections, are essentially shaping a future that none of them will be around to see.
The one thing a lot of old people have is money. But what's the point of having wads of cash if you can't wipe your own ass? I'd sure as hell would rather be 23 and making pennies (see me: circa 2005) than be 40 and have $2 million in the bank. So really, if I ever want to be truly happy, I need to Win for Life on a scratch off ticket. And soon.
I'm only writing two stories for the paper this week. To put that in perspective, that is at max three hours worth of work. If I were my own boss, I would be beating the shit out of myself and making me actually earn my paycheck. But fortunately, I'm not, so I will continue to skirt on by putting in as little effort as possible.
I need a personal trainer or at least a nutrition expert to be involved in my life somehow. I go to Walmart once a week for food and the bill comes to around $34 every time. All I buy is 5 cans of tuna fish, 4 boxes of hot pockets, 5 bottles of gatorade, some minute maid lemonade, bread, cheese, beer, ice cream and a box of entenmann's cookies. I've been in this apt for three months now and I haven't touched the stove or oven. When I meet girls now, my first question is going to be, can you cook? Cause if not, I will be feeding my kids a few popsicles for dinner each night and telling them they're loaded with fruit juice. I really need to get my act together. On that note, I've got to go throw a ham n'cheddar hot pocket in the m'wave.

Breaking my Blog Cherry

I have no idea how long this will last. I may decide tomorrow that having a blog just isn't very cool. But I'm kind of intrigued by the concept and I figure it will help to keep my writing fresh. Not too sure what I will put on it, but I know one thing, I hate all of those people whose blogs consist of nothing more than: woke up 8 am, ate a few cheerios, played with myself for a while, went to work, blah blah...kill yourself. Nobody cares about all of the boring shit you did today. My life of sleeping a lot and watching movies with the occasional night of drunken retardness just isn't very interesting. So I'm going to try to make this less of a chronological list of events and more of stream of consciousness type thing (where there's obviously a good chance that I'm going to be angry about something).
I see it going along the lines of this:
In the grand scheme of life, I really like very few people. In a sense, this does seem to be quite terrible. It's tough to develop relationships with people when with most of them, you just want to put a plastic bag over their heads. But the people I do like, I like a lot. Simply put, I like people who don't take themselves seriously at all and have a sense of humor about pretty much everything. If you can make me laugh, there's a good chance that I like you. But screw all that, I have much more to say about people I don't like. And don't worry, this doesn't apply to any of my friends, because really, if you were any of these people, I would try my best to avoid you.
Here are couple of the types of people that I hate:
The Talker: I don't mean to be sexist here, but this mostly applies to girls. I enjoy a good story, hell, I'll even listen to what the guy at the bar said to you last night about how pretty your hair looked, but please, your mouth does not need to be open 24/7. I'd say at least 40 percent of girls fall into this category. The worst is when four or five of these yappers get together in a circle and go on for hours about the boringest nonsense you can imagine. "oh my god! I went to CVS today and they had a sale on these great tampons that make my vagina smell like a new car!" I don't know, maybe I'm just being a guy, but most girls annoy me. I've always figured that the girl I end up with will be the quiet type; they are often the ones with the most interesting stuff to say. A lot of people should be asking themselves each time they think about opening their mouths, "Does anyone care? Is what I'm about to say even slightly amusing?" Now I know that half the things I say are either bordering on offensive or just downright disgusting. But let's just remember, I have some serious issues and am currently on medication.
The Fake- Easily my biggest dislike in anyone. Almost always the person you think is supernice and a great humanitarian is just a disguised asshole. OK, I shouldn't say almost always because there are plenty of really good people out there, but I'm constantly questioning motives and if I can't figure out someone's, I often assume they are full of it. Not only do I not like fake people, I don't like small talk. "How was your day? How was your vacation?" I'm probably just an douchebag, but most of the time I really don't care. Of course, I would ask such questions of my good friends, but in today's world, it feels like we're expected to ask the drooling cart pusher at Ukrops how he's doing in the 5th grade. Again, I may just not be a friendly person, but I listen to the questions people ask each other and think "what the hell is wrong with you?" If I ever ask you something about what's going on in your life, I can guarantee that I really have a genuine interest in the answer. But you walk around today and people ask these stupid questions with a look on their faces that says, "Oh damn. Please don't answer. I didn't think you'd actually respond."

I'm already thinking this blog thing won't last and I can already see the flood of "you're such a queerbag" IMs I'll get once I post this, but I gotta say, it's a lot more enjoyable to write about stuff that you actually think about instead of lameass school board meetings where the most interesting thing that happens is the superintendent greets people with the same hand he used to rub one out in the bathroom thirty minutes earlier...