i have a story about the dentist this morning ( Read more... )

i am already depressed about valentine's day.

the smell of my office depresses me. it's not that it smells bad, like feet. or poop. it's the smell of copiers and staples and paper and stale co-worker perfume that reminds me that i am in an office, the second i walk in the door. office.

i thought that by finally getting myself a new computer, ala aliens are good, i would feel inspired to once again become a prolific LJ-er. but sadly, a new computer does not guarantee funniness, insight or even a date from myspace. no, it only guarantees a huge chunk of change from my bank account and more internet stalking than is healthy.

eating at mcdonalds does not earn you the right to be high maintenance at the drive thru. you get what you pay for, mr. mercedes.

who gave me the bubonic plague this weekend?

which pervert has looked at my Friendster account 49 times in the last two weeks?

which is better:

owmyfinger77@gmail.com or pantsenfuego@gmail.com?

i mean, which is the most professional?

why did america west make me watch Mr. 3000 today?

i really mean it this year. really.