John just showed me his Ball Bouquet

We were supposed to get new computers at work on Friday, but to the surprise of absolutely no one, that didn't happen. And apparently I'm not even getting a new one, just a hand me down from the editor. These people are complete morons/ cheapass bastards. I could get stuff done so much quicker if my computer didn't freeze every 2 mins and if I could access a Web site in less than the amount of time it takes to orbit the fuckin sun.
On Friday, I sat on my couch all night and drank half a bottle of wine while watching a movie that couldn't possibly be understood under the influence. And that's all that will be said about that sad episode in my life.
Last night was Lauren's party. Once again I forgot to take pictures, so just use your fuckin imagination, alright? Preston and I dominated on the pong table for a while. Preston kept wishing I was Sam, but I managed to hit a few cups and by that I mean I hit 3 cups the whole night. Eventually, I think the beer ran out and/or the people who lived there were no longer awake.
I wore John's McNabb jersey which prompted most people at the party to tell me how much they hate the Eagles. The worst thing about large social gatherings is you inevitably end up getting stuck in a terrible conversation with a terrible person who you really wish would go away. And trust me, I'm not referring to anyone who would ever read this blog, but it amazes me how some people fail to ever get the point. When you ask me 50 questions about my life and I answer with one word responses like "Yeah" or "Boobies" and I never once ask you about your job/life in any way, that generally means my interest in the conversation is about as low as my self-esteem was when the retarded amputee at Ukrops turned me down for a date.
I'm glad the Steelers won the SB simply because there's got to be 1000x more Steelers fans than Seahawks fans. Also, how fuckin gay is Shaun Alexander? When the guy talks, he sounds as if he just got off his knees in a back alley near Big Gay Boners Strip Club. I'm surprised he doesn't try to get tackled more for the off chance some guy will rub against his bulge.
Some UR girl actually wrote this in the Collegian last week, "And, while you're at it, hire more than four people to clean the UFAs -- the quality of cleaning we apartment-dwellers get is atrocious, but four people can only do so much in the course of a day."
Yeah, smart move...Perpetuate the stereotype of rich spoiled snobs attending the school even more. If I ever meet that girl, I might just have to punch her in the face. Seriously, how does this chick get the balls to complain about a cleaning service that has no business existing in the first place? College kids destroy their apartments and then the school pays for people to come in and clean up for them. If the administration cradled the collective balls of the UR student body any more, it would need to start signing adoption papers for every student.
Alright, I need to go watch Requiem For a Dream again so I can go to bed as depressed as humanly possible.