20 November 2006

What the f*** happened yesterday?

Yesterday was, in my own words, what seemed like the pinnacle of my emotional imperfection. That's all we'll say. Something was weird, something didn't feel right, the planets didn't line up and I'm sure that on some distant planet, the laws of physics broke down and the planet imploded. Such is the effect of the deviations I experienced yesterday.

I'm cured now but I must make sure that kind of misfiring doesn't happen again. On Wednesday, for Thanksgiving break, I'm going back to Plano. Yes. Home. Once again, it is important to make the distinction between my transient place of residence and Home. Generally, there are two opinions of Plano 1) Heroin-addicts. I can't tell you how many times people have said "oh. That's where all the heroin addicts are...". Well, that's only because you hippies can't afford heroin, or you'd be hitting that too along with your cannabis. 2) There's "nothing to do".

Wtf? Of course there are things to do. The point of Plano isn't to provide a fun, party atmosphere for you. If you want to party, go to Dallas. If you want to laugh, go to Fort Worth. If you want to relax, go to Plano. For me, the choice is quite simple- [Broken sidewalk + Nastys + drunken idiots + frat idiots] or [Nice suburban atmosphere where I can walk (although there is hardly a need to walk) without people trying to spit on me or sell me things or trying to convert me into Socialism/Christian/Scientology/Etc]. Quite simple, no?


There's really only one flaw I see in Plano- too many Republicans. They don't really get in my way, so I'll return to my elitist bubble anytime.

I f***ing hate this armpit of a town. Plano rocks. Constantly, I'm plagued by idiots who have "financial problems" but are too damn lazy to get a job. I'll be honest and brutally honest. Doing things requires money. Having money requires 1) Rich parents or 2) Some kind of job. Scores of people "stay in their room" or "don't go out to whatever" simply because of a lack of money. Stop being fucking idiots and go get a job.

What else am I sick of? Hippies. Hippies that complain. Hippies that snort and pout and breathe through their mouth. Unreliable people, they are. When queried for a response as to "Why'd you do it?", a logical answer is no where to be found. They'll usually bring up some reason incorporating the words "feelings" or "felt like doing" or "just gotta relax sometimes, ya know" or "don't worry about it". Another common excuse is the divertion of blame - "Oh I was raised like that" or "It's my parents fault". The ONLY way I'd accept a divertion of blame is - "Oh it's my genetics" + actual genetic sequence proof (which includes matches to known individuals with your condition).

This is the hallmark of hippie-style - "don't worry about it". Naturally, there's a good amount of difference as to who says it. A tenured professor- his words are golden. A hippie, telling me to "not worry about it", is precisely when I start to worry, since they tend to do everything wrong.

I'm glad I didn't have any tests or homework this week, as last night would have messed me up. Alternatively, if I did have something due, it probably wouldn't have happened.

So cryptic.

2 comments:

kevin said...

Wow, I didn't know Red Alert meant so much to you.... It's just one loss.

r said...

i loled at kevin