Too Much
It's an anthem.
I realized that I have like 6 posts that I started at various points that I no longer have the personality to finish.
Like, they're from weeks to months ago and I'm not that person. I don't know who that person was- or who this person is- but I know they're not entirely the same. Not the same enough to know what one another was thinking that's for sure.
Last weekend I drunkenly unraveled floss and made a little nest in Ryan's bathroom. To what end? Last weekend me is the only one who knew and she has died with that secret. Took it straight down. I am not entirely convinced that Issa didn't do it and blame me because I'm the usual suspect...but like, not in a gross Kevin Spacey way. Although, I did spend some of the evening sexually harassing Ryan. Issa is old hat. We've kissed performatively after t.A.T.u (All The Things She Said was a karaoke staple) - but...why is it spelled that way?
Sometimes when I yawn really big I spit like that acid dinosaur from Jurassic Park that kills Newman. It's horrifying. I don't know if it's normal, and I google so many things already I just can't bring myself to put that on the record. I wonder if Google employees use Bing just so no one knows their search history. Or maybe they only google weird shit at coffee shops using dummy accounts? They probably know how to cover themselves.
I don't. Google knows things. Things I'll have to kill people for.
After all, they host this blog, and this absolutely cannot get out to the general public.
I sort of love it when guests on late night shows make that corny joke. It's sometimes charming for someone to be unapologetically corny.
Today- the random bit of information I am presenting to you is that my favorite lyric in a song ever is: You checked your phone while I masturbated.
Google it.
So, I gave in...got myself coffee. Spent the money I could be spending on buying a house or paying off all my debt, as the olds on MSNBC would tell me. It's a damn shame I can't be more frugal. Who gives in to small pleasures? Losers.
I'm in much better spirits now. And the thoughts are there. Thinking away. Neurograd actually sent me an article he was assisting on about mice seeing things and how that registers in their tiny mice brains and what that means for all things seeing things. It was very science-y and very interesting and nearly incomprehensible to me. I'll probably re-read it. He's sent a few things that have been really interesting and not at all something I would stumble upon independently. All the things I read are political or media focused. Or Onion articles. And I will never apologize for that. Fucking an Onion contributor is on my list of life goals. I would drop out of school for it.
I think I might sleep with neurograd tomorrow? I'm not sure. He might not actually be into me that way. He might just be waiting for me to ask for a tutor. He said he wasn't using Tinder to get students...but that's what they always say. Grad students.
I really like him so far, though. Mostly because he knows things I don't understand. I don't know why I find that incredibly attractive. He's also pretty amusing. He's reasonably cute from an aesthetic stand point. Totally my type. Beaky nose at least. He's got light hair and blue eyes, so kind of uncomfortably similar to Scott...who is not actually my type. I think it's more the lanky intellectual aspect that is my type. If he wore contacts and dyed his hair he would be perfect- but I can't give another boyfriend a make-over. I don't really want to try to change people anymore anyway.
I realized that I have like 6 posts that I started at various points that I no longer have the personality to finish.
Like, they're from weeks to months ago and I'm not that person. I don't know who that person was- or who this person is- but I know they're not entirely the same. Not the same enough to know what one another was thinking that's for sure.
Last weekend I drunkenly unraveled floss and made a little nest in Ryan's bathroom. To what end? Last weekend me is the only one who knew and she has died with that secret. Took it straight down. I am not entirely convinced that Issa didn't do it and blame me because I'm the usual suspect...but like, not in a gross Kevin Spacey way. Although, I did spend some of the evening sexually harassing Ryan. Issa is old hat. We've kissed performatively after t.A.T.u (All The Things She Said was a karaoke staple) - but...why is it spelled that way?
Sometimes when I yawn really big I spit like that acid dinosaur from Jurassic Park that kills Newman. It's horrifying. I don't know if it's normal, and I google so many things already I just can't bring myself to put that on the record. I wonder if Google employees use Bing just so no one knows their search history. Or maybe they only google weird shit at coffee shops using dummy accounts? They probably know how to cover themselves.
I don't. Google knows things. Things I'll have to kill people for.
After all, they host this blog, and this absolutely cannot get out to the general public.
I sort of love it when guests on late night shows make that corny joke. It's sometimes charming for someone to be unapologetically corny.
Today- the random bit of information I am presenting to you is that my favorite lyric in a song ever is: You checked your phone while I masturbated.
Google it.
So, I gave in...got myself coffee. Spent the money I could be spending on buying a house or paying off all my debt, as the olds on MSNBC would tell me. It's a damn shame I can't be more frugal. Who gives in to small pleasures? Losers.
I'm in much better spirits now. And the thoughts are there. Thinking away. Neurograd actually sent me an article he was assisting on about mice seeing things and how that registers in their tiny mice brains and what that means for all things seeing things. It was very science-y and very interesting and nearly incomprehensible to me. I'll probably re-read it. He's sent a few things that have been really interesting and not at all something I would stumble upon independently. All the things I read are political or media focused. Or Onion articles. And I will never apologize for that. Fucking an Onion contributor is on my list of life goals. I would drop out of school for it.
I think I might sleep with neurograd tomorrow? I'm not sure. He might not actually be into me that way. He might just be waiting for me to ask for a tutor. He said he wasn't using Tinder to get students...but that's what they always say. Grad students.
I really like him so far, though. Mostly because he knows things I don't understand. I don't know why I find that incredibly attractive. He's also pretty amusing. He's reasonably cute from an aesthetic stand point. Totally my type. Beaky nose at least. He's got light hair and blue eyes, so kind of uncomfortably similar to Scott...who is not actually my type. I think it's more the lanky intellectual aspect that is my type. If he wore contacts and dyed his hair he would be perfect- but I can't give another boyfriend a make-over. I don't really want to try to change people anymore anyway.
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