Never Underestimate the Power of the Cheesy Goldfish

Once again I come forth with overdue blog postage.

I don't really have much to say, really. I just felt like insulting the English language a little more with my pathetic drivel.

The goings on in the realm of me are the few, the bland. For the sake of.....I don't know...flying pigs, here's the bulleted overview

*I am still working at Happy Hell, amidst painfully cheerful, blue-clad newbies.
*Yep. Still broke.
*My truck of Doom is finally in the shop, for better or for worse (till death do us part. Heheh.).
*My rarely used cell phone is MIA.
*I spent a ridiculous amount of money on oodles of CDs at Amazon.com
*My oodles of CDs finally came in the mail. MUAHAHAHA.
*Newfound obbession with Within Temptation
*Realized half of my black shirts are missing.
*More wasting of the youth I never really had in the first place.

There it be.

What an interesting life I lead. Heh.

Bleating out a suspender-coated "Did I Do That"?

The Lord of all things evil really does spawn from the six.

Six strings.

Placed on a guitar, they make for utter and unspeakable torment of the soul (barring the existence of one, which in my case is a bit of a stretch).

Why?

Because after shelling out hundreds of dollars from a far too patient teacher....

I. Still. Suck.

Truely, when I came forth unto this world, my existence was cursed. Witheld from me at the very earliest moment, was the talent to do the one thing that I've always aspired. My brain was warped, and these claws of mine were poisoned. Never, will such a victory be mine. Forever will I wallow in the land of the utterly tone deaf, clumsily picking at an out of tune string.

Add a gravestone in the land of Bitter, we've another dead desire.

Mind you, I'll still keep these insturments of my demise, if only to serve as a true testament to the utter pointlessness of everything.

How I love pessimism.

In the land of Blah, the lethargic reign supreme

For some weird, unexplainable reason, I feel like being as asshole. Not to anyone in particular, but just to the world in general. And while I could go around and vhemently insult every person I run into....

....a loud, mental "fuck you" will have to suffice.

Ah well.

Such is the life of this antisocial zombie.

If you can't say something cynical, don't say anything at all.

I think this universe is beginning it's assault on my very existence.

Finally.

Heh. You'd think it would have stopped beating around the bush years ago.

But now, during a time when I should be thinking of rock concerts and glazed over sulking in the shadows what do I do?

Have the other car break down in the midst of 15 hour workdays.

Indeed.

Oh and Peaches...all those hopeful speeches you undoubtedly heard at your graduation about new beginnings and whatnot, just know this....

....it's the beginning of the end. *manical laughter*

Ah sweet cynicism. How I love it.