all your tears and your silly fears, i will be your teddy bear. for you i'll suffer so much pain. your preaching that you care. do you care?

if you came here for the sole purpose of seeing some titties and haven't scrolled down at all...and haven't noticed there are no titties displayed....and are actually reading after realizing there are no tittie pictures, no boobie pics today!

we clear?

excellent.

i did have this entire post written out, and then i remembered it is thursday so even if people do come for more than the beer and the bitchiness, thursday equates to pretty much only looking at the purdy picture, so it's all about the fluff posts.

what i wrote wasn't really fluff, so it'll have to wait until later. hopefully by the time later comes i won't be nearly as livid, i'll forget how abso-fuckin-lutely trapped i appear to be from my perspective, and i'll just add it to the every growing heap of bullshit that i keep in the way way way way back of my mind, continue merrily with my whatever-i-don't-give-a-fuck-attitude, and the post will never see the light of blogland.


so, here..have some randomness:

the things that have perplexed me and/or pissed me off thus causing my ucler to sputter...
*cough*....today.....since the sun went down four hours ago...*cough*

• how absolutely inconsiderate people are of others is really getting perplexing lately. i mean i knew that the majority of people are inconsiderate fucktards who are so self absorbed and self-serving that they hardly ever look beyond themselves and their immediate wants and needs, but shit is getting absolutely ridiculous. while getting gas, this woman in a minivan nearly took out my car because god forbid she get off the phone and actually manuever the beast of a van she drives...nope, it's better to nearly slam into my vehicle than interupt whatever important conversation she was having. whore.

• while driving at a merry eighty fives miles per hour, this asshole in a 2000 e320 4matic station wagon decides he wants to change lanes, so he moves on over to my lane...no big deal, except he's going forty-two miles per hour...on the highway. and he never sped up. not once..not even when he was in the left lane...not even after i was honking at him along with the people stuck behind me going under forty miles per hour on the fucking highway. douchebag.

• i'm driving...and driving...and driving...and then i'm stopping. not at a light, or because people in front of the car in front of me are stopped or stopping. nope, i'm stopped in the middle of the goddamn road. why? because the douchebag in the explorer in front of me decided he didn't look as hot as he could, and adjusting his hat was in order to be as hot as he could be while driving, so he just slammed on his break, looked in his rear view mirror, adjusted shit accordingly, and then resumed driving. say it with me: "what the fuck?"

• while at a stop-light, i noticed that the light turned green and shockingly! the guy in front of me wasn't moving. i honked, he pushed the gas, i passed him, and what is the asshole doing? he's reading. reading while driving. it wasn't one of those "oh i'll read while i'm stopped at the light" kind of things, it was a eyes-continually-on-the-magazine type of deal. it was reading in a driving environment. and, that's the last driving thing i'll talk about.

• this girl in my white collar crime and secured transactions class is the ipitomy of everything wrong with women today. she's tiny, but she wears clothes that are too small for her...so rather than admitting that she isn't a size two and going up to a whopping four, she sits down and has this flub that comes spilling over her jeans that is visible from every angle. she honestly looks worse than i do, and i'm possibly twice her size. on top of that, she's tanorexic. i'm not sure where people got this sick idea that oompa loompa is a natural skin tone or that leather is a texture found in nature to begin with. step away from the tanning bed, put the self tanner down, and slather yourself with some moisturizer woman! it's taking almost all of my willpower not to forgo spending $900 on a new purse, and just using her and her skin to make one.

• i'm sitting...i'm relaxed--err, well as relaxed as i can be...i'm comfortable and content, and then all of a sudden out of fucking nowhere my boob starts to hurt. i think to myself "self? what the shit is that?!" and avoid the urge to shove my hands down my shirt to adjust things, figure out what's going on, and rub my poor wounded bubbie all better, because of course i'm in public. so? i ignore the pain and just brush it off as nothing more than the random daily aches and pains that come along with being female. i get home and do what i always do, which is change into my pj's with a quickness, and ta-dow! three quarters of the underwire is sticking straight out of the bra, and was sticking straight into my poor little sweater puppet. how does that happen?! how does a dull piece of wire manage to poke through a fairly thick layer of cloth and continue its course out of the lovely lace bra it belongs to and right into jabbing your tit. you'd think that it would stop once it something as dense as a giant ball of fat, but oh no! it just keeps protruding and carves a fucking hole right there in my bazunga. it feels lovely.

• i've come to realize that unless jeans are skint tight and appear to literally be paint on, they're going to do this poof thing that makes me look fatter than i am. no matter how much weight i lose, that fucking little poof is constantly present right where the button and zipper congregate in a holy and unsacred union to men everywhere. it fucking blows.

• why do people insist on wearing clothing with patters on it? i don't give a fuck what people say, if there is a pattern on an article of clothing, and that article of clothing doesn't conveniently fall into the "undergarment" category, it's just fucking wrong. i'm not talking subtle patterns--like dots on a skirt that add a little color, or lines on a shirt that make it look funky--i'm talking about patterns that make it damn near impossible for you to look anywhere other than that article of clothing, all the while inducing a form of blindness. a skirt with sixty million different color swirls on it is super cute...if you're two years old. a shirt with orange, green, blue, yellow, pink, and purple stripes is vomitous fantastic...if you're using it as a rag to dry off your car after you wash it. how am i supposed to pay attention in class when all i can do is stare at the train wreck of a pattern someone is wearing?

and that about concludes my bitchfest....oh, wait! i actually got stuck listening to the radio today for a little bit, and can someone please explain to me what the fuck is wrong with music? the sounds of my dogs shit hitting grass is more orotorily pleasing than the crap that's "hot" today.

anyway...on top of me bitching, why not add a fake smile to the mix?

and for those of you women (and men who are into that kind of thing and most likely belong to the "accented" minions) who haven't tried rimmels mascara, why the shit not?! get to it! get your ass on the bandwagon, because if i can even openly admit to my eyelashes look fucking awesome with it, well...then it's beyond the new hotness, it's quintessential.

happy hnt y'all!