I'd like to die now please

Nope, I don't think I am jinxing myself if I joke about death. You do? Then you need to take out that coconut tree that is stuck up your ass and live a little more relaxed. Death is just the end as WE know it. And we don't know jack.

I am so saturated with this square life right now and my inabilities to be a human being that I would like to throw my ass in Baghdad City wearing a "Baghdaddy" print T-shirt. Or go stand on the emergency lane on the 6th ring road and get run over by a cop car. Maybe dive too deep and get nitro narcosified! The interesting options are endless. How about getting tied to a 241 helium balloons? Why not 240, you ask? That coconut tree is still corked in your ass then.

(((((This post actually reminds me now of the Book of Bunny Suicides, an absolute must have. Ingenious ways for fluffy bunnies to die by Andy Riley. He wrote a sequel and some other interesting titled books that probably won't have him contemplate suicide without a will.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/hyperdrive/))))

My next post is going to be on possible stress relievers while you are at work that give you results in a few minutes. They may be products I will create in the next five minutes and sell to you for 5.050 K.D apiece

Number

I was going to write a livid post about life and why on earth do the consequences of procrastination have to be so bloody awful but I changed my mind. My phone just dinged (pronounced like winged) and it was a message from this boy. Anybody who isn't two years older than me is automatically not a man yet.

So it's this pretty boy who I met at this crazy party Thursday night. It was the final leg of the party... after we found the place, after everyone got pretty smashed, after the cops came, after I realized my friend had lost me and after pretty boy returned her to me at Z's place. Thats when pretty boy asked me for my number and I was more taken aback that I gave it to him. I've dated guys like him before and I know he aint my type. Could I be so shameless to give him my number just for the tease of it? The only part that fascinated me at all is the initial chase. Or maybe we women should call it the initial flee. Playing that game is simply regressing to being neanderthal in an innate way.

Addictions

It's right here. In front of my minds eye. The awareness of this addiction. So obvious it could be a giant pink dolphin flipping around the foreground of my mind.

I tell myself it's no big worry. I flippantly told myself the same thing when I started smoking, but I've never quit. I tried to; but I didn't. It's fun sometimes to amuse yourself by teasing your mind like an elastic rubberband. Giving it some and then taking it away; only to see how much it cant take. It's more amusing then messing with the putty the guy who sits next to me has for a brain, thats for sure. I just don't know how I would know if the elastic snapped, or if it already did. Oh well, as long as it feels like an entertainment park in my head, I assume it's alright. Right?

This new addiction of mine; I need to cut the little bastard sapling now before it grows into an ogre shaped oak tree. The only way I think I might have any success is by replacing it with another. Namely, this, my clogspot. I don't know if it is going to work, but I'm sure I'll let you know. If I end up addicted to both, we'll figure out a way to integrate the two.

So influenced. So addicted. So pathetic.

I'm going to have to deactivate that darn facebook account.