I'm crabby

Thursday, March 22, 2007

I'm crabby

Yes, crabby. I've been going out too much lately and my brain is a little fried at this point in the week. I've been doing a lot of work, from home no less, which keeps me from being in the cheerful sunshine. I was hanging out with Brooke last night and our conversations always lean towards the weird. Add to that all of the art films I've been consuming lately, and the result is that I didn't get much sleep last night because I was having weird dreams about getting emails of pictures of strange naked men who can suck their own cocks. The dreams were so off and disturbing, I actually woke up and thought it really happened. So I'm a little crabby.

To indulge my shitty mood, here's a collection of bitchy things I read today:

Stop photographing yourself
. The majority of self-portraits are annoying and bad because humans are far too self-aware to photograph themselves in any sort of candid, honest way. Everyone puts on their photo face (usually mopey, serious, or blank), squints their eyes, and tries to look timid, shy, sensitive, and/or tough. It's really gay.


Don't go around the streets like happy-go-lucky all is right with the world brow lifted weird ocular "beaming" muscle engaged, light in the tip of your toes, hey look at him, hey look at me: I'm a fucking fraud leprechaun. [I add this in because it was basically me yesterday. 5 people called me a leprechaun and I was very self-satisfied in an obnoxious way. Go rainboots]


Would it kill you to not live like depressing Satan? Pedestal ashtrays piled with butts and a roommate named Andy who lives in a diaper he folded out of his curtain are totally unacceptable.

Don't take pride in your shitty work. You're like that Curlis Cue redhead my mom was dating who gave me a Curlis Cue toothbrush and windily explained how the curled bristles stimulate the gums. [Seriously, I don't even find what I do interesting]

Another day, more alleged strife at "The View:" Now, Elisabeth Hasselbeck apparently thinks Babwa has completely lost control over the show, and she's steaming mad that Rosie had a whole show devoted to her birthday.

According to Rush and Molloy, Elisabeth is still stewing over yet another on-air verbal smackdown from Rosie two days ago, and her anger only intensified yesterday, when the entire hour was all about Rosie's 45th birthday – the show was wall-to-wall Broadway musical numbers. What's more, says a R&M source, Hasselbeck "also thinks Barbara doesn't have any control over the show anymore." [I've included this so everyone can see how fucking ridiculous the women on that fucking abominable show are, not to mention how ridiculous the show itself is. Someone do the world a damn favor and off these bitches. It will cure cancer, I swear]




I think that's quite enough. I apologize for not being terribly interesting today. Hold on a sec: even at my worst, I'm still more interesting than most. Plus, if you've gotten this far, you've already read the entire post. You've wasted your own time, and I won't have any complaints about it. I'm going to go scowl now.

I hate everything,
Jillian