Do I get my lap dance now?
Something that we'll prbably never be.
Is anybody else hell-bummed beyond belief that George
Harrison died? I was up at around four o'clock that
morning, watching VH1 and they had this special on him,
which seemed odd because it's usually insomniac theatre or
cardio-video or something on. And they had this little
scrolling text at the bottom of the screen, and as I was
reading it, I was thinking, "Oh my god, don't tell me he's
died," because I didn't want to know. I'm selfish like
that. And it said he passed away and my stomach litterally
dropped. Then I went to bed because I didn't want to be
awake when my dad woke up because he's spent 30 or 40 years
of his life worshipping this man. I mean, that's half of
The Beatles, the most incredible band in the history of
ever, gone. Augh, I don't want to deal with it. I'll make
myself believe that George and John are both still alive
and the entire group is touring in Japan.
And I think I need to be a professional song writer so I
can profit off of my angst.
And I still have issues. Nasty nasty issues. I've
appearantly been unofficially entered into an unofficial
contest amongst three of April's other best friends to see
who can get laid before the year's over. April gets it all
the time from her bootycaller (whom she insists on calling
a boyfriend.), Shelly is frickin' pregnant, and even 300
pound Alicia has beaten me to it. Her frickin' virginity
was washed away in a threesome. I was seriously depressed
and feeling an overwhelming sense of outdone-ness. It's
down to Samantha and me. Samantha has the freaking
opportunity all the time (well, almost all the time), and
keeps pushing it away from some unknown reason. I should
lose this battle. I don't wanna even be in the
competition. It's stupid and degrading. But then again,
so are we. That's it, I'm withdrawing myself from the
race. I don't care anymore. If I get it, I get it, and if
I don't, then I'm unhappy and depressed. That's all. Case
current mood: insecure
current tune: Ataris - San Dimas High School Football Rules
current advice: Don't get hot best friends, because they'll
make you look like chopped liver every day.