Monday, July 27
Woke up, fell asleep, woke back up, watched James and the Giant Peach, and now I am sitting on my bed typing this.
James and the Giant Peach only served to depress me, which depresses me, but I think it's just this late night "oh I'm so lonely and existential I'm but a speck of dust in big black space (token black universe) woe is me!" mentality. Some lines in the movie were funny.
And the guy who accidentally ate rat poison in Dumb and Dumber has a role in it, too.
Oh I'm so lonely and existential I'm but a speck of dust woe is me!
I am also hungry, because apparently I slept through lunch. Oh lord, at least my room is clean, I cleaned it because I thought I would be teaching in here tonight, but I didn't have to, but now it's clean so I feel less like a slob. But the bad part is I have no chair for my table, now, because my dad needed it for his bigger class, and now I'm too lazy to get it so I'm now having this in my lap and the fan of it is tickling me thighs. Oohee hee hee. Aroused? Should be.
Cricket cricket cricket cricket outside my window.
Attracting mates, that stridulation must be pretty damn sexy to them female crickets.
It's much different with humans, I guess. Not as simple as making noise to attract mates.
Or maybe it is.
Oh no here it comes!!!
Stopping myself before I get all teenage-philosophical on the Internet's ass.
Seriously, almost didn't catch myself there.
Still chirping. These crickets have been perpetuating their DNA over millions and millions of years so it has perfectly evolved to annoy the titties out of my vagina.
The noise could be much worse, though, if you think about it.
We're just lucky it didn't evolve to make the noise of like, I don't know, something gross or nasty. Like farts or something.
But I guess if we didn't like the noise enough, we would have killed all of them off a long time ago.
It works! Darwin was right!
I am shaking my fist to you, baby Jesus.
This fist is made of science and winner after winner after winner of the great contest called reproduction.
This is what my ancestors courted for.
Generations of sperm and egg, awkward face acne, unwanted hairs, and the sloughing of countless cells of the endometrium leading up to this unsorry SOB they call Matthew Kegan Park!
Roar!
(sorry mom)
James and the Giant Peach only served to depress me, which depresses me, but I think it's just this late night "oh I'm so lonely and existential I'm but a speck of dust in big black space (token black universe) woe is me!" mentality. Some lines in the movie were funny.
And the guy who accidentally ate rat poison in Dumb and Dumber has a role in it, too.
Oh I'm so lonely and existential I'm but a speck of dust woe is me!
I am also hungry, because apparently I slept through lunch. Oh lord, at least my room is clean, I cleaned it because I thought I would be teaching in here tonight, but I didn't have to, but now it's clean so I feel less like a slob. But the bad part is I have no chair for my table, now, because my dad needed it for his bigger class, and now I'm too lazy to get it so I'm now having this in my lap and the fan of it is tickling me thighs. Oohee hee hee. Aroused? Should be.
Cricket cricket cricket cricket outside my window.
Attracting mates, that stridulation must be pretty damn sexy to them female crickets.
It's much different with humans, I guess. Not as simple as making noise to attract mates.
Or maybe it is.
Oh no here it comes!!!
Stopping myself before I get all teenage-philosophical on the Internet's ass.
Seriously, almost didn't catch myself there.
Still chirping. These crickets have been perpetuating their DNA over millions and millions of years so it has perfectly evolved to annoy the titties out of my vagina.
The noise could be much worse, though, if you think about it.
We're just lucky it didn't evolve to make the noise of like, I don't know, something gross or nasty. Like farts or something.
But I guess if we didn't like the noise enough, we would have killed all of them off a long time ago.
It works! Darwin was right!
I am shaking my fist to you, baby Jesus.
This fist is made of science and winner after winner after winner of the great contest called reproduction.
This is what my ancestors courted for.
Generations of sperm and egg, awkward face acne, unwanted hairs, and the sloughing of countless cells of the endometrium leading up to this unsorry SOB they call Matthew Kegan Park!
Roar!
(sorry mom)
Labels: poseur, wannabe misanthrope
