Don't Worry. Be Happy. Or at Least THINK about Something Frivolous
05/06/2003
10:23p.m.
Man, this is gonna be the fastest I�ve ever updated my journal. And you wanna know why? �Cause I hate bitchiness. Especially my own. Yeah, I�m shallow and giddy and one of those annoying chicks that tries to stay - oh, I don�t know - optimistic all the time. Oh, those people get on your nerves? Well, you better quit reading this journal then. �Cause I�m one happy sumbitch. No, really, I just didn�t like looking at my last entry. Now I firmly stand behind everything that I wrote, don�t get me wrong. I just don�t want to be constantly reminded of why this country sucks right now. So we�re going to move on to more frivolous things. Like these dag-blasted pop-ups. They are getting quite ridiculous. I think people are getting desperate in their choices of what to sell. Now why in the world would I need a free robotic arm? Is there some appendage-related epidemic that I�m not aware of? Is it now cool to cut off an arm and become a cyborg? Or maybe the world is now requiring people to do so much work that you need 3 arms to do it all with? And I just received an email asking if I�m sick and tired of huge scary vitamins. What?! Are there masses of people being attacked by gigantic pills? What are you people taking these days? You should really try to pay more attention to what you put in your mouth. Physics and common sense should really dictate what you attempt to swallow. (Okay, you dirty, dirty people. Quit snickering.) And obviously whoever keeps sending me opportunities to get out of credit card debt doesn�t know me at all. I�ve haven�t owned a credit card in almost 2 years. Hey! Newsflash: No credit card = No credit card debt. Oh! Also, have you tried the new chicken alfredo pizza from Papa John�s? It�s very good, I must say. I quite enjoyed it this evening while watching the next-to-the-next-to-the-last episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Ooh. Pause. Only 2 episodes of BtVS to go. *Sniff* Hey, at least I still got Angel. And why is it that every time I pass on an opportunity to go to dinner with Fortune Cookie, he calls me repeatedly the next day? And then, when I�m polite and return his phone calls, he disappears like cash at a political fund-raiser? I don�t get you men sometimes. Except for James Marsters. Yeah. I could *get* him any day. Man! I am so glad I got all that off of my chest. Aren't you? I feel much better now.
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� Lysistrata 2003-2004
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