Saturday, May 21, 2011

Everyone In High School Had the Right Idea When They Chose Not to Date Me

SOS

Culinary glamour

So, the New Jersey chronicles continue. At least the people here spur really good Twitter/Facebook material. Boundless entertainment. I really no idea what to do with myself besides blog and continue my crusade for a studded punk vest. So thrifting is in the forecast. If anyone knows of any decent places to find heroin addict apparel please contact me.

Being home is so surreal. I can't even believe I'm in my third year of college. Time to start making a list of nursing homes! Living in New York feels like I'm in a inscrutable time vortex enshrouded with homework, hooker blood, and aberrant fashion compared to New Jersey. I'm used to living in a fast-paced environment. I like to stay focused and execute whatever task is at hand promptly, and coming home feels like I'm walking through caramel. It's so weird to see how many people haven't changed, when I feel like I've upgraded more than iTunes does in a month. And it feels great.


The Burger Pauper Queen

The most amusing thing is going out and running errands. I love coming into a store and getting stared at like I'm some whimsical fellow who just walked out of Narnia the crackwhore edition. There's also something magical about paying for your meals in neon blue tight pants and grenade-combed hair. I feel like it's foreshadowing the next 10 years of my life. It's a smorgasbord of fabulous. 


It's also easy to see, the people of Walmart will never own intellectual property. One can't even fathom the magnitude of discomfort I felt today when sandwiched between a cashier with the mental capacity of a jar of pickles and a customer schizophrenically recounting her incidents involving her lactose intolerance. I'm pretty sure this woman was so lactose intolerant that the melody of a nearby ice cream truck would have her on the floor. Moral of the story: refrain from going to Walmart as much as possible. 


So stay tuned for more tri-state debauchery. I'm going to go touch myself till I pass out nap. 

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