01 May 2006
I could go to hell for that.
I like to stick my tongue out at old people. I like to drive insanely fast and my plan, if I ever get pulled over, is to blame severe cramping either due to female problems or due to stomach issues, depending on the gender of the officer. I hate people who drive white or navy blue or gold Ford Crown Victorias just for the hell of it. I flip those people off on a regular basis. I use a lot of curse words in regular conversation, including the eff word. That's bad. I don't use the cee word, cuz I'm a girl and I don't like the cee word used in general conversation about other females. I also like to teach small children bad habits, like making faces at adults. That's because I don't have kids and I don't plan on having kids and I think it's funny. I have a pretty sick sense of humor. I laugh at my own jokes. I don't think I can go to hell for that, but it makes me look pretty conceited. I rub my eyes until I see stars and am fully aware that this is what caused my astigmatism. I think the sign "For Sale By Owner" is absolutely fucking retarded. Who else would sell it? The neighbor? The ex-wife? I want to start a line of yard signs that convey those messages. "For Sale by Unpaid Mortgage Company: House Goes Cheap." I want to bite my dental hygenist, not all kinky-like, just because I want to. I don't like tools in my mouth. Heh. I like watching South Park, even though it's tasteless and crude. I like being tasteless and crude. Now, mind you, that is different from being white trash, although with the rise in popularity of tv shows like "My Name is Earl", white trash is getting to be pretty mainstream. I like to watch sappy movies, movies I've seen time and time again, for hours on end and do nothing else. I could survive on bread and cheese and juice for the rest of my life. I secretly love my hair and it's taken me about 25 years to come to terms with that. I really, really, really want to hit orange traffic cones with my car or a mailbox, but I don't want to have to pay to get it fixed. My car, not the mailbox, cuz I would be smooth enough not to get caught. Heh heh heh... See, deep down, I think I'm still the deviant I was years ago. I just got taller.