Standing in the Middle of Yesterday

i'm not waiting for the answers on a sunday afternoon
i'm just too drunk to remember why i always slip through
the drugs and fake ambition have been helping me to hide
but it's the endless television that has kept me inside

where does it stop?
where does it end?
where do we go?
why am i always complaining?

i'm not looking for forgiveness for the things that i don't know
i'm really not that different, you just made me think so

I'm ready for normalcy. Take your time if you need to, but the magical misery tour has done its damage on me, and like my high school graduation, I don't want to talk about it anymore. I leave you with some final thoughts. War is not the road back to normalcy. Controlled retaliation measures, maybe, but flat-out war will only perpetuate chaos in America. See: Vietnam. Also, the 9-1-1 crashes do not help our crippling economy. I suggest we put the flags away and support our country by spending more dinero instead. If we're so proud of capitalism, then let's put our money where our mouths are and buy lots of shit to resuscitate the economy. Finally, concerning the death toll, I refer you to writer Ray Kurzwell:

"A great deal of our effort goes into avoiding [death]. We make extraordinary efforts to delay it and often consider its intrusion a tragic event, yet we'd find it hard to live without it. Death gives meaning to our lives. It gives importance and value to time. Time would become meaningless if there were too much of it. If death were indefinitely put off, the human psyche would end up, well, like the gambler in the Twilight Zone episode."

Okay, no more from me. I shall be quiet on the issue from now on and watch the sins of our forefingers play out.

Happy new year to those whom I direct my slut tendencies! Don't let Rosh hour traffic stop you from visiting though. Oi!

My brother asked me to help him with his homework today, his homework for…PE. Apparently, nowadays in junior high school, kids have to think in PE. What's up with that? PE was meant to be a mindless class, like marching band, a sabbatical from the actual brainpower (or not) involved in academia. Here I was, however, looking at a study sheet for a PE volleyball skills test. This is so wrong. When are they ever gonna use these "skills" anyway?

God, I love having a car. In Los Angeles, no car. In Mountain View, car. It's like getting your dick re-attached. I LOVE IT! For some reason, three months of not being able to drive has made me a better driver. I mean, I can park straight now. How cool is that? Oh, I miss driving so much. I miss speeding up to block the intended exit ramps of cars who pass me on the freeway, as if my driving isn't good enough for them. I miss getting pulled over for driving without my headlights on and getting pulled over for driving with my foglights on. But above all, I miss driving with no hands. That's right. I'm a frequent Tyler Durden driver. The rush you get from driving on the 101 safe empty suburban streets "sin manos" is simply incredible. Sex while driving can't even compare. So, the next time you see a shitty beat-up '85 Thunderbird with the license plate WINIWIN (win, I win) on the road, take cover. Whoo!

(out of 254 votes)

greatest band in the world • 237 votes • 93%
eh • 8 votes • 3%
greatest band in the world…for me to poop on! • 9 votes • 4%

Thank you, Alex Roome.

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