Suicidal Snowflakes

Just because I have a short attention span doesn\’t mean I…

I hurt deep inside–Ted, another dog please.

I weep tears of sadness for whoever was searching for Blue Beetle/Booster Gold fanfic and found my site instead. the only thing worse than looking for BB/BG fanfic is looking for Justice League superheroes as My Little Ponys. Which someone did last week. The people looking for Bruce Wayne/Jim Gordon fanfic’re less sad. They are peoples after my own heart. Of course… I have little room to talk. I think Guy Gardner and Mary Marvel should TOTALLY get together. TOTALLY.

There were some other sad things, none of whch were as funny as the BB/BG fanfic peeps. Otherwise I’d have remembered them long enough to report them here. I have been getting a lot of hits from Battlecore lately, which is odd. Guess James posted my blog URL over there. Hi Battlecore nerdlings *waves*

Ted actually grilled hotdogs with a blowtorch tonight at work. I think he’s doing twelve hrs straight because it’s the holiday so no happy fun grillness at Ted’s place tomorrow for the Ted. He’s relegated to a sleepy trip home, a quick snorting of the lifesavers off a Rostraver cop’s ass, and straight to bed so that he’s ready to do it all again tomorrow night.

Ted is also experiencing deep personal sadness over the terminal illness of his grill. It’s got a rusted leg, a gunky top and doesn’t look like the sweet sweetness that one expects from a device intended to turn the flesh of animals into carbon. Not to be confused with carbonite, of course. Think of it as a creamatorium for cow. And pig and whatever else they put in hotdogs. mmm.. cheesy hotdogs….

But anyways, it’s so bad Ted’s thinking about a new grill. Which is like really bad. Cuz I know Ted. He’s actually cheaper than I am. I know that’s hard to believe. Especially since I am too cheap to buy a chair to sit in at my computer. Or my husband’s computer. I’m sure he’d like it if I were less cheap and I’d part with enough cash to buy a walmart craptastic computer chair.

I NEED to put those pom-pons away. I brought them up out of the basement, and they’re glaring at me with angry angriness. Venge-ness even. Dude, I read about all the words Shakespeare made up, and I’m like ta hell with it. I’ll just make up words as I go along. vengefulness may be a “word” word. But it implies a fullness I’m not sure the pom-pons are capable of. Unless they became mutant sentient pom-pons at some point since I was in high school. Oh sweet Jesus. I was a cheer leader at one point AND on the dance squad. I didn’t realize how pathetic and lame I was until now. Mostly becuase I was dwelling on how I didn’t fit in with the “cool” kids on the cheerleading or dance squads. Holy hell. My not fitting in-ness was my superpower and I was too lame to see it.

No, wait. I wore sweat pants to school every day and I don’t think they ever matched my top. Nope. I was so fucking lame I was lamer than the truely lame cool kids. I lived off in my own private nerd-hell.

Thumbuddy didn’t want to go swimming in south park with me, and I missed my chance on Saturday. Hopefully mom’ll wanna go swimming with me tomorrow. Then I’ll feel less infinite sadness. What’s half of infinite sadness?? What’s infinite squared? Or the square root of infinite sadness. Mmm. Deep.

BTW, I saw Electra last night and it wasn’t as bad as everyone said it was. It actually had for me what the last run of the Electra series was missing before I cut it from my list–y’know, namely a point, the potential for redemption, and eventual redemption. Or at least character growth. The comic spent so much time going NOWHERE. It’s a comic, it’s serial, bla bla bla. There’s also nothing emotionally fulfilling for me, watching Electra kill scores of peoples.

I’m also not as think as you drunk I am. This is weird and the first time it’s ever happened to me–I’m actually hyper from the alkeehol. Hence the disjointed disjointedness of my posts. At least the last one was color-coded (or coated. man I was so deaf as a child). All red white and blue for the day er sumfin.

I also better get to see some damned fireworks tomorrow or there will be hell to pay. I wanna see shit explode, and I wanna choke on metalic dust like that one year. And I think I have pink eye. For real this time. Not like the last two times when I thought I had pinkeye and it was just allergies. This is for real.

July 4, 2005 - Posted by | Angst, Holiday

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