Nov 15 2008
I HAVE OLD PEOPLE PROBLEMS

I got a big birthday boil on my butt. I think it’s a pressure sore from all the sitting on hard assed stools (chair, stools - not stool, stools) in class. (I put some stool softener on them but it didn’t work.)
I have to take chem and some of my classmates are still high school students. They irritate the crap out of me and now I have to take the stool softener.
That’s about it, other than thirty four sucks. Don’t even make any jokes, because I have the sex drive of banana slug in a bag of potato chips.
I don’t know what that means.
Now I have to go write a report on thermodynamics, and I don’t know what that means, either.
Sometimes I wish I were Anna Nicole Smith, except, not dead. Being vapid, yet loaded (in every sense of the word) sounds pretty good right now.
The only good thing about being back in school at 34 and not sitting at a desk reading imdB and TMZ crap intermittently: I have no idea who anyone is anymore. The Hills? Lauren Conrad? Other than the most boring assed bland blond w/ no lips I have seen since that Diane Lane chick? Nope, nothing. Stupid Bimbo O the Week does not even register.
I see commercials with these people in them, and think: am I supposed to know who that is? Because I have no earthly idea why they are showing that person or why that would make me want to buy something. I like not knowing, or needing to know, these lame starf*ckers anymore. I do, however, need to know about pig ear notching, how many teats a she-goat has, and how to tell when your cow is in heat. Still, that’s…useful.
Now I’m going to pee the dogs and try to find some fossil to lance my butt boil. I am, as ever, teh sexxx.

