There Is No Point

Responsible.

I am responsible now... I used to cry myself to sleep, wishing I could pay rent and buy groceries. I wanted nice things. Now, as I sit in a cafe, sipping a spicy chai and typing on my MacBook Pro, I recognize how my wants have shifted.

I was watching a movie the other night, where a character had practically every bone in her body smashed in some awful accident. As she sat in her hospital bed, morphine constantly dripping into her blood stream, I wished I had an excuse to be on morphine all day. Maybe in some sort of terrorist attack, where I lay out the bad guys and save the world, or at least the building.

I used to love opiates and hanging out, but now- I can't. I have to stay focused, but for what? Success? Presence? I just watched 2012 and I realize success is pretty pointless. However, like other rappers before me, I must get dat paper, y'all. Sure, I would rather be euphorically itchy all over while I tried, but then I yell at cats for "talking" too much.

I'm working on a book, but don't tell anyone... I don't want to subject myself to public ridicule. I was writing jokes, but then I lost the page I was working on, so I picked up some opiates and now am havein fuhn. Don't know what all these small townsie people are looking at... like their ticks don't make them itchie... I could have ticks, what do they know? One thing definitely havein: FUUUUUUUUUhhhhHHhhhn. I should go some where and masturbate.

OH THANK GOD THERE IS A NEW NOTIFICATION IN FACEBOOK!

Oh Thursday, being wasted is so "Friday" of you.

This just in my head: Maybe a guy binge drinking on a Thursday isn't so much "sad" as he is "innovative".

THE WEEKEND ISN'T EVEN HERE YET! A trend setter, the next day- EVERYONE is doing it (even pregnant people). Clearly this guy is someone to be looked up to, just ask my ex-boyfriend (also ask him if he got tested, so I don't have to).

A widely held belief is that a disease drives people to drink... or me (Hi Mom).

GET READY FOR "THIS IS LIKE THAT":

A Wednesday drunk is the Mark Zuckerberg of liver failure! He get's up, goes to work (unless he's committed), maybe he throws one down before brushing his teeth- maybe he doesn't brush his teeth. This guy doesn't smoke, but takes "smoke breaks" plugging away at his passion. He knows that sometimes you have to juggle your daily obligations with your personal ambitions and it's not really "stealing company time" if you're all balanced and shit. Tuesday drunk, well that's next level shit... over my head, so I wont presume to lend voice to it.

There is another side to this trend: the Sunday/ Monday drinkers... The weekend is really over, but they can't let go. S&M drinkers are Bruce Willis to the early 2000's. They've been riding The Fifth Element well into a regular spot on Friends, but they also know that Live Free Or Die Hard is a fun movie, making failed relationships and a disappointing existence worth the Whole Nine Yards.

It's Thursday and I ate a pint of ice cream... I like to think I am working on being a supportive wife to an important man, having "pregnancy cravings". Manifest Destiny over here!
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Date Rape Brownie

You ever think "I wish there were some way I could feel out of control without hurting anyone but myself."?

Eating Pot.

Let me just tell you- I didn't know I was in for anything but a snack, but the freezer had other plans. I was cat sitting for a friend and I wanted to eat some food I didn't pay for, so I went to the freezer and saw brownies (my 7th favorite!). I don't smoke pot, in fact I hate it, but you know what they say "heart disease is the leading cause of death among men over the age of 60?" no... the other thing: You are what you hate/ eat. I really didn't know what was to happen to me.

I was a pot brownie... Now I am a tortilla chip.

7 Hours In The Life Of Pot Brownie (an internal dialouge)

Oh boy, it's tough being brownie... kept in the freezer... I can't worry about that now, my head is disconnected from my gooey center and I'm clearly at room temperature. It's like I am a million delicious particles... what was that?! Where am I? I better get off the phone because I don't know what this person is saying "who is this?" oh yeah, hope he doesn't take that wrong... what just flew by me?! Oh- it's a chair... good, it's not moving. wow... wait... what am I holding? "hello?"... "who is this?" I gotta get to the couch. I'll just set my phone in this glass of water. Water is weird... woah, but it's everywhere. I wonder if there is a joke to that. No time now... what time is it? what does '3 o' clock' mean? I better stand up if I'm ever going to walk again [laughs]. I'm not even hungry, maybe I should do some yoga...

ONE HOUR LATER

why can't I eat almond butter and tortilla chips? It's so good... there is nothing else to eat... I've never eaten cat, but it sounds like a lot of work. I don't know if I will ever poop again. Batman makes a good point... What ever happened to women being so stupid in movies? Oh god... I wonder if I overlooked something in the cupboard... tahini? maybe with some maple syrup... oh yeah- I need some more chips.

END SCENE

Seriously, I can't talk about it anymore. It was the worst thing ever. So many of my peers enjoy pot, I tried to enjoy it, but it's a lot like being that one guy in a gang bang who really wishes women respected themselves more. I came up with a lot of useless ideas and ate my own weight in condiments; conversation scared me. I walked 5 miles home at midnight just to give my digestive system the upper hand in it's slow road to recovery. It's still mad at me. I can't believe I dated someone who did this all the time. I have to explain to my friend what I did now... which is not embarrassing... unless she asks me about her freezer burnt Mochi... then, it's pretty embarrassing.

Anyway, here's a video about it:

Girls Don't Poop!

My housemate reminded me tonight that girls don't poop. I almost forgot until he told me! How silly of me to be hoping to excrete all this food I'm eating through my anus, I guess it's back to the old purging board! Some women have been known to poop up to every nine months! I ate such a big meal tonight, with my housemate... I had to wait until he went into his room and then... I pooped. I pooped so hard. I felt guilty, knowing it makes me less of a woman. I had an impulse to yell down the hall "I'M POOPING! I'M POOPING!" part of me felt like Scarlett O' Hara... when she found all those carrots and was excited to eat. I was excited too! However, no one can know. Should I give it up for adoption or just throw it in the dumpster? Tell me quick because poop's getting all over my keyboard and is only minutes from becoming self-aware.

I often feel like Ms. O'Hara, but sometimes I feel like Malcolm X- all free at last, free at last... but the kind of "free" that makes me want to change my given name to a new Muslim name. Malcolm X was Martin Luther before he became King of the Panthers. True story, I teach history... or I dated a history teacher, he cheated on me, so I will cheat history. Who wins that battle? Me.

Some people think I am insensitive or racist. I don't know about that. Why, just today I was standing next to a black man on the bus and I didn't vomit or gush blood... I couldn't really have done anything because I was so worried about my purse! You know who is racist? This 2.5 year old boy I help take care of... He calls every black man he sees "Obama". What a little turd! However, we get along pretty well, I call every fat black woman I see "Precious".

There was a lot of poop talk in this one, plus more typical race stuff, then I threw a spin on it with a kid story, but brought it back with fat black ladies. I want you to see what else happened today: