Oh, here's a cheerful site God Hates America. Brought to you from the friendly people at Westboro Baptist Church. You know, the same special people who put up the popular site, God Hates Fags. Damn, these people are special. They seem to be forgetting something major: if it wasn't for the fact that America (the country hated by God) is very tolerant of psycho religions (like their particular form of fanaticism), they'd be locked up, at best. At worst, they'd be painfully dead.
I don't have any patience for stupid people.
I was riding with a born-again Christian the other day. I had no problem whatsoever with his religion. I had a major problem with his attempts to foist his religion off on us, the hapless riders. If you have a personal relationship with Jesus, that's lovely. Keep it to yourself. If you feel ‘the spirit' in you, that's even better. Again, keep it to yourself. If you firmly believe that every non-Christian on the planet is going to hell when they die, keep it to yourself. If I wanted to hear about it, I'd have asked.
"Excuse me, sir, but I just wanted to know all the details about your relationship with God. For good measure, could you please quote Scripture at me, so that I know that you really know what you're talking about?"
I'm tired. I was up late last night talking to my friend Amy. I wouldn't have been up so late had Dirk woken me up when he was supposed to. Instead, he woke me up an hour later, saying that I needed that extra hour.
I'm on my second day without cigarettes. I decided to quit smoking (again) yesterday, because I want to go on the Pill. Remember, smoking on the Pill increases your chances of getting ovarian cancer by a billion percent (exact figure). I'm not feeling much in the way of side effects, other than pronounced boredom. I've become very used to stepping outside periodically for a cigarette.
To ease the transition, I've been singing a happy little song to myself. All day.
It goes:
I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves
Everybody's nerves
Everybody's nerves
I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves
And this is how it goes...
I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves
Everybody's nerves...
(ad infinitum)Who says Saturday morning cartoons rot your mind?
The people in Dirk's house have been having fits regularly lately. We returned a mic stand to Greg last night. When we came back, Aaron tore into Dirk, accusing him of "going behind his [Aaron's] back." It turned out that Aaron had planned to use the mic stand in his ongoing feud with Greg. Aaron needs to get laid. He's got way too much free hostility, and it's just going all over the place. I'm probably the only person who hasn't gotten it from him; that's probably because he knows what I'm capable of.
Aaron's said many times that I'm the only person in the world he's scared of.
To be honest, I must admit that I don't go out of my way to antagonize him. That's probably the real reason we get along.
Dirk has one very bad habit: the inability to get rid of evidence. Remember when we went to King's Dominion and got a hotel room? Dirk left the receipt on the table where his mother could find it. Which, of course, she did. Sunday night I took a pregnancy test at Dirk's house (my period's late again, which isn't unusual.). It came out negative, of course. I asked Dirk if he wanted me to take the box with me when I left, and he assured me that he'd take care of it.
He shoved it into a cupboard in his room, for his mother to find yesterday when she was moving some of her stuff out so he'd have more room for his stuff. She didn't say anything to me, of course. She never does. But Dirk told me about it when we went out. She just asked him a few questions; I assume to determine that I'm not pregnant.
Damn, I wish that boy was more careful. However, he insists that I told him I'd take care of the box.
My 21st birthday is coming up. My mother wants to buy me jewelry, but I'm not sure I want more useless stuff. Perhaps I'll make her buy me furniture. Feel free to start planning what you're going to buy me. Checks and major credit cards accepted.
JFK Jr.'s body has been found, last I heard. I guess the sharks didn't get him. Too bad.
I'm going to lay my head on my keyboard and go to sleep now.
