Let The Hate Flow Through You

After vomiting a bunch of misery onto the page yesterday I feel the need to do what I do best, talk shit about other things in order to feel better about myself.

I'm not upset about anything specifically so I'll need to invent something. My coffee is cold. Fuck you, Obama. (its as reasonable as the other shit hes blamed for)

So my financial situation sucks, this couch really hurts my back, I think I have arm cancer(first recorded case) and I would bitch about how out of shape I am but looking at the stretch marks on the black girls arm on More To Love makes me feel anorexic by comparison. I went generic there because the first two references that came into my head were holocaust survivor and Calista Flockhart. One shouldn't be joked about and the other isn't very timely. Seriously, Calista had a serious problem. It was no laughing matter.

Where to go from here? I'll tell you! Pretend you're someone else. I discussed this with a co-worker today. I never went to proper college so I missed out on all the hilarious shit that goes on while missing out on the tedious shit such as classes. Luckily, I'm still of college age so its appropriate to hang out there. All the freshman will be moving in at Rutgers soon and now is the time to strike.

I can impress endless amounts of naive, overwhelmed 18 year old girls with a good act. Precocious hedge fund manager? Independently wealthy orphan? Drummer from band she's never heard of that "toured with Green Day?" All are possible. I like taking the business angle. Pretend to be an inventor. Adam Carolla talks about knowing you've made it when you can say "That's me."

You: "Are you familiar with Solo cups?

Girl, holding a Solo cup: "Well, yeah."

You: "That's me."

Now I worry about the girl being able to fact check. iPhones fuck with everything now. But she's probably too drunk to think about it, if she hasn't lost her phone by this point. This idea can definitely work if you've got enough friends willing to back you up and a hot female friend to come ask for a picture with you, the sausage king of Mercer County(double entendre!).

Now if only I weren't such a pussy...